OBS Chapter 103 Constance's Request
Chapter 103 Constance's Request
After the middle-aged man saw the situation inside the car, he tightened his fingers slightly and almost slammed the car door shut, as if he wanted to completely seal everything inside the car.
His face showed barely suppressed anxiety. He quickly stepped onto the gravel road, not bothering to brush the dust off his trouser legs, and ran to the young woman holding the black cat.
After hesitating for a moment, the middle-aged man walked around behind the young woman, leaned down slightly and whispered a few words quickly in her ear, his breathing extremely soft.
As the young woman listened to his words, her fingertips unconsciously tightened around the black cat's soft fur. The cat in her arms twitched its ears in dissatisfaction, but she was completely unaware, and her expression changed involuntarily.
Surprise and doubt alternated in her eyes, and even the faint smile on her face faded a bit.
After the middle-aged man finished speaking, he took a step back, stood quietly to the side with his shoulders drooping, and waited for her next instructions.
The young woman's fingertips gently traced the black cat's back, her gaze slightly lowered, landing on the cat's head in her arms, as if she were weighing her options.
"Move the carriage to the side of the wooded road and notify the guards to come immediately." After a moment's thought, the young woman looked up and gave the order, her voice low but carrying an undeniable certainty.
"Yes, Miss." Upon hearing the order, the middle-aged man immediately bowed and responded, then turned to begin his work.
He instructed two servants standing guard by the driveway to lead the carriage to a secluded spot, while sending his personal male servant quickly to notify the nearest guardhouse.
This area is a well-known wealthy neighborhood in the city, with each block having its own guardhouse and staff on duty around the clock.
The guards arrived quickly. The lead guard had barely peeked through a crack in the car door when his face turned pale. He hurriedly closed the door again, waving his hands repeatedly, saying that this was beyond his authority and that the city's police station must be notified immediately.
The guests who had been chatting around the table all gathered around, whispering amongst themselves and glancing frequently toward the carriage, all curious about what had happened inside.
But the carriage had already been led to a secluded spot on the forest road, where guards stood with their arms crossed, coldly forbidding anyone from approaching.
No one could see what was happening inside, and the curiosity in the discussions intensified.
Several distinguished guests, holding wine glasses, gathered around and tried to strike up a conversation with the young woman holding the black cat, subtly probing for information about what was happening inside the car.
But she handled the situation with composure and grace, maintaining a polite smile while remaining completely discreet without revealing a single detail.
The middle-aged man stood guard by the carriage, speaking in hushed tones with the head of the guardhouse. His aura was cold and hard, and no one else could get a word in edgewise.
Chris had already helped the limping Jonathan to the infirmary next to the main building of the villa.
The villa is extremely large, with a magnificent main building located in the center of the estate, and three well-designed annexes on either side.
The neatly trimmed lawn spreads out along the terrain, connecting with the endless deep green woodland, and a small, shimmering lake is nestled in the woods not far away.
When Chris helped Jonathan pass by, he couldn't help but click his tongue in his mind. Could it be that even that lake that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see was on private property?
At this moment, Chris was standing outside the infirmary room, his hands folded and hanging naturally in front of him, his back gently leaning against the cold wall.
His gaze would occasionally drift to the lawn outside, where he could see many servants in uniforms setting up the party venue in an orderly manner.
Long tables covered with cream-white tablecloths with gold trim are laid out along the lawn, and are already filled with cold cuts, fruit tarts and various drinks in crystal glasses.
Even in broad daylight, there are carved and gilded candlesticks placed at intervals on the table, and servants are bending over to light the white candles one by one with long-handled candles.
It was full of ritual.
Meanwhile, from inside the tightly closed room, Jonathan's gasps and groans could be heard intermittently, mixed with the doctor's soft words of comfort. Even through the door, one could tell that the person inside was in great pain.
Chris couldn't help but mutter to himself, "This guy's injury is probably really serious this time. I hope he won't blame me."
Ultimately, he pulled the horse back at the crucial moment when it charged, otherwise Jonathan would have injured more than just a few toes.
As for what happened inside that carriage...
Chris was certainly interested as well.
The carriage was made of rare ebony wood, and the wheels, edged with silver, were engraved with exquisite patterns. It was clearly not something an ordinary person could afford, and the person inside must have been of high status.
The carriage door remained closed until he helped Jonathan away, and no one came out.
This means that something really happened to the people inside.
But the person should still be alive.
Just now, as he was helping Jonathan pass by, he subtly activated a wisp of his spirituality and clearly sensed the slight but regular fluctuations in the airflow inside the carriage.
That's a sign that a living creature is breathing steadily.
Just as Chris was lost in thought, he heard light footsteps coming from the end of the corridor, accompanied by a slight ripple in the air caused by a skirt sweeping across the floor. The footsteps were heading in his direction.
Chris keenly sensed someone approaching, and immediately turned his gaze away from the lawn outside the door, looking straight at the door panel in front of him, pretending not to have noticed anything.
"Are you Mr. Chris?"
A gentle female voice came from beside him. Chris turned his head, a perfectly timed look of surprise on his face, nodded slightly, and said with a hint of disbelief, "Miss Constance, what brings you here?"
The black cat that Constance had been holding in his arms was nowhere to be found.
She was wearing a moon-white fitted long dress and walked slowly toward Chris, followed by a young man and a young woman.
Both men were dressed in well-tailored aristocratic casual wear, with exquisite patterns embroidered on their collars and cuffs, clearly indicating that they came from extraordinary backgrounds and were not from ordinary families.
Chris's gaze casually swept over the two people behind Constance, then subtly returned to her.
"I've come to check on Jonathan," Constance said softly, meeting Chris's gaze.
In Chris's eyes, she still had that faint, just-right smile on her face.
It was as if nothing that had just happened by the driveway had affected the young noblewoman in the slightest.
Whether he heard the conversation outside or not, Jonathan's screams inside the room suddenly rose a few decibels, becoming distinctly tearful.
"Ah~"
Hearing the screams coming from inside the house, Constance frowned slightly, and for the first time, his expression changed noticeably.
"Is Mr. Jonathan so badly injured?" She covered her mouth with her right hand, which was covered by a white lace-trimmed glove, her tone carrying just the right amount of surprise.
Chris noticed all the changes in her expression.
He always felt that Miss Constance didn't really care about Jonathan's situation.
Every expression on the other person's face seemed to be rehearsed in advance, as if they were acting.
But he wisely kept quiet and remained leaning against the wall, standing outside the door without moving.
"So what if he stepped on your foot? Everyone knows what kind of person Jonathan is. He's just putting on airs to gain sympathy." The young man behind Constance suddenly spoke up, leaning against the pillar in the corridor with his arms crossed, his face full of undisguised sarcasm and his tone full of disdain.
"You can't say that, Brother Anderson. Jonathan was just unlucky to have this happen to him." The young girl with fluffy, light brown twin ponytails next to Anderson immediately frowned and tugged at Anderson's sleeve to speak.
Chris's gaze involuntarily swept over there.
In his opinion, the young lady's expression was much more sincere, with a hint of worry in the corners of her eyes, indicating that she was genuinely concerned about Jonathan's injury.
"Heh, you're just too young and naive to be fooled by someone like Jonathan," Anderson said with a cold laugh, shaking off her hand without any politeness.
"You, you're only a minute older than me! Stop pretending to be an elder!" The girl with pigtails frowned and glared at Anderson, her cheeks puffed up with anger, her tone full of dissatisfaction.
Chris watched the siblings argue silently without saying a word.
Constance surprisingly did not intervene in their argument.
She glanced casually at the two people behind her, then her gaze returned to Chris with a hint of inexplicable curiosity.
Chris noticed her gaze, smiled back, but was unsure what Miss Constance wanted to do by coming all this way.
Chris already felt something was off about the fact that the other party had specifically asked Jonathan to invite him to the party.
Inviting someone with whom she had no connection and a vastly different social status to such a private aristocratic party simply because she had helped her stop a frightened black cat in the alley earlier is completely illogical.
The thought of the black cat.
Chris's gaze unconsciously swept past Constance's side before he suddenly realized what was happening.
Where did the pure black cat that the other person almost never let go of, which they carried in their arms wherever they went, go?
Constance looked at Chris, his composed smile suddenly fading, replaced by a perfectly measured apology. He took a half-step forward and lowered his voice, saying, "Excuse me, Mr. Chris, there's something I might need your help with."