The Shaw Family's mother and daughter are not easy to deal with, but Balthazar Shaw... he usually seems quite clever, yet when it comes to handling household matters, it's unclear whether he feels guilty towards this mother and daughter or what, as he doesn't notice Clara Philips' intentions.

"Nothing unhappy," Aunt Rong replied truthfully, then thought for a moment, "After coming back, her mood seemed pretty good, asking me to bring dinner upstairs, she ate it there."

Mason Nightshade nodded, "You can go rest."

"Alright!" Aunt Rong responded, tidied up a bit, and returned to her room.

Mason Nightshade got up and went upstairs, pushed open the bedroom door and peeked inside. Inside, the light was off, and a cold breeze blew out from the crack in the door.

Mason Nightshade furrowed his brows slightly and sighed helplessly in his heart.

Leaving the air conditioner on again while sleeping.

He pushed the door open and entered.

This habit is fine in summer, but in winter, leaving the air conditioner like this will surely freeze her.

Mason Nightshade wasn't overly worried, as there had been instances like this before. Aurelia Shaw is quite careless in her lifestyle and self-care; she habitually turns on the air conditioner without bothering about whether it's cold or hot. When she finally feels the chill, she is too lazy to turn it off, simply wrapping herself up tightly, burying herself in the quilt, head and all.

Mason Nightshade turned his head and indeed saw her curled up from the cold, holding a pillow in her arms, her head deeply nestled into her shoulder for warmth.

As for the quilt...

It had already been kicked to the ground, with only a corner barely covering her lower legs. Her ankles were slender and long, her jade feet white and delicate. Perhaps because she believed she was living alone, overly relaxed in her guard, her nightgown slipped to her waist, two long legs stretched evenly across the pillows, her seaweed-like black hair draped over her shoulders, spread out on the white bed sheets.

Though her sleeping posture was clearly unrefined, she appeared remarkably beautiful, like a sleeping beauty.

Mason Nightshade's heart raced, his deep eyes darkened momentarily, yet he quickly looked away, stretched his long legs, walked over, picked up the quilt, his eyes full of indulgent gentleness, his thin lips curved in a subtle arc as he sighed inwardly.

While his heart was reproaching her for not knowing how to take care of herself, his hands still diligently covered her with the quilt.

Aurelia Shaw seemed to sense something and slightly shivered.

Mason Nightshade suddenly stiffened, staring intently at Aurelia Shaw, but she merely shifted a little, found a comfortable position, and continued to sleep.

Mason Nightshade exhaled softly.

Approaching, he reached out and touched her forehead, his slightly cool fingers just grazed her skin; she shivered from the cold and her brows furrowed, revealing an unhappy sleeping visage.

Mason Nightshade froze immediately, belatedly realizing he carried the cold air from outside, which made her uncomfortable.

Mason Nightshade withdrew his hand, turned, and walked into the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Mason Nightshade emerged, wearing black silk pajamas, the belt loosely tied at his waist, his calf muscles taut, exuding nobility, cold arrogance, and the imposing presence of a soldier in his few strides.