CHAPTER 117: I WANT US TO VISIT YOUR PAST

It turned out to be a false alarm.

Beauty immediately cleared her throat and wriggled free from the large hand gripping her waist—a scene straight out of a romantic TV drama.

But it didn’t quite suit her and Lucas.

"Thanks for earlier," she said, letting out a relieved sigh as she lowered her gaze slightly.

Lucas ignored her gratitude and strode straight toward the kitchen.

He knew the housekeeper must be baking cakes right now—the sweet, fragrant scent had already reached him.

"Strawberry cakes?" Beauty’s nose was sharper than a bloodhound’s.

The moment the aroma wafted over, her face lit up with delight.

Without hesitation, she dashed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen stood in a separate courtyard, its doors and windows wide open, allowing the rich fragrance to drift through the air as they stood beneath the towering tree in the yard.

Lucas reached it first, just in time to see the housekeeper arranging the delicate pastries on a plate—soft, pale-yellow glutinous rice cakes shaped like blossoms, each adorned with tiny petals.

They looked almost too exquisite to eat.

"Auntie, you always make these cakes so beautifully.

It feels like a crime to take a bite," Beauty mused, eyeing the golden treats for a brief moment before finally picking one up with her hands and popping it into her mouth.

The cake melted on her tongue—sweet, chewy, and infused with the subtle, lingering fragrance of strawberry.

"This is absolutely delicious."

With that, she picked up another piece and fed it to Lucas, who was standing nearby, staring at her as if she were an alien.

Lucas hesitated for half a second before parting his lips under Beauty’s expectant gaze.

He took a bite of the Strawberry cake, a faint smile flickering across his face as he gave a silent nod of approval.

The housekeeper brought out more pastries and arranged them on the table.

Beauty, with her hearty appetite, sampled each one, her face alight with delight.

Truly, nothing in this world was a greater invention than good food.

Lucas sat quietly beside her, not speaking, his gaze fixed on her as if deep in thought.

Only when Beauty had finally eaten her fill did he rise to his feet and reveal the true purpose of this trip.

Meeting her eyes, he spoke gently, each word deliberate.

"Beauty, would you like to visit your hometown—the place you once lived?"

His words wiped the smile from her face.

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her expression.

"But... isn’t this my hometown?" Lucas’s cool eyes shifted slightly as he replied in a measured tone, "I brought you here to take you back to the places you once lived.

This is just the first stop.

The next will be where you spent your childhood."

Her childhood?

Those memories were both hazy and vivid—so blurred that she could barely recall the faces of her family now.

Only their voices lingered in her mind, and even her father’s face seemed to have faded with time.

Yet the memories remained so vivid that they haunted her midnight dreams, bringing back childhood recollections—those painful, bewildering fragments that surged over her without mercy, leaving her no escape.

For her, confronting the past was far harder than facing the future.

"I can barely remember that place now," Beauty murmured, lowering her head, her fingers twisting restlessly.

"Just the name of a small town, dotted with lakes and lined with old, antiquated houses.

It’s probably a tourist spot by now.

But... I don’t even remember where my home was." "

It’s alright," Lucas said, his voice calm, a faint glimmer in his eyes.

"Your home is in New York now.

I just want to take you back to where you once lived—think of it as a short trip.

After all these years of teaching you to be a refined lady, it’s time for you to return to your roots and be your true self."

His large hand closed naturally around her wrist, and he led her out of the mansion.

The journey from Chicago to Pavilion would have taken nearly five hours by car, but Lucas flew his private jet, landing at the nearest airport in under an hour.

By the time they disembarked, dusk had settled over the land.

The unfamiliar surroundings, yet the familiar soil beneath her feet, made Beauty’s breath hitch.

Her head buzzed faintly, and each step forward felt heavier than the last.

Summoning her fragmented memories, she gave the taxi driver the address.

As the car moved, she stared out at the passing scenery—everything around her had changed.

After so many years, she recognized nothing.

The old houses were long gone, replaced by modern buildings erected in recent years.

"Sir, are you from around here?" she finally mustered the courage to ask the driver, a flicker of hope in her eyes.

The man, in his forties, had an honest face and an easy warmth about him.

Seeing her ask this, the driver immediately broke into a smile, his face crinkling with wrinkles.

"I’m a true local, born and raised here.

You two must be from out of town, right?

Just one look tells me you’re city folks here for a trip."

From the moment he first laid eyes on Lucas, the driver had sensed the commanding aura around him.

Now, sitting in the car, though the man hadn’t spoken a word, his impeccable attire made it clear he was someone of wealth and status.

"I used to live here for a while, but it was when I was very young.

My memories are hazy, so this trip is like revisiting the past," Beauty explained.

Gradually, she and the driver fell into an easy conversation, as if they were long-lost fellow townspeople catching up.

They chatted about childhood memories, and by coincidence, the driver happened to know the exact neighborhood where she had grown up.

He even drove them right to the area.

When they got out of the car, Beauty waved at the driver gratefully, her face lighting up with a warm smile.

It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

Sometimes, we’re far braver than we think.

What seems like an impossible obstacle might just be a single leap away—if only we dare to take that step.

Later, we realize the only thing truly holding us back is the barrier in our own minds.

The joys and sorrows of her childhood were all tucked away in this clean, unassuming little town.

The long sycamore-lined streets, the quaint little houses flanking the road—everything carried a nostalgic whiff of home.

"I don’t remember the exact spot, but I know there’s a big lake around here.

No matter how much things change, that lake must still be there," Beauty said excitedly, tugging at Lucas’s arm as she led him down the road.

He didn’t stop her, simply letting her loop her arm through his, his eyes crinkling with quiet amusement.

After walking for over twenty minutes, they finally reached the vast lake, its surface dotted with small fishing boats.

Night had fallen, and the water shimmered with scattered lights, while the cozy rural eateries along the shore glowed warmly in the darkness.