Chapter 2

Looking at Mr. Whitmore's face, so certain that I'd embezzled money, I almost laughed.

The rare tropical poison inside Irene needed the best wild botanicals as a primer if it was going to be suppressed.

That hundred thousand wouldn't even buy half a root hair from a century-old mountain ginseng.

I knew I was only adopted by the Whitmores. To repay their kindness, I'd never once asked for money.

For five years, I'd worked three jobs a day to buy herbs.

To save money, I'd even gone deep into the mountains to gather them myself. More than once, I'd fallen from cliff walls and come back covered in injuries.

But I couldn't be bothered to explain.

When people have already decided you're a thief, trying to prove yourself only makes them wonder where you got the money and accuse you of putting on an act.

Irene heard the noise in the living room and came out with her cane.

When she saw what was on the floor, her eyes turned completely cold.

"I thought you were just playing petty tricks to take credit. I didn't expect your heart to be this vicious.

"Using poison like this to fool me. Are you hoping I die sooner so you can swallow the Whitmore fortune?"

I ignored her vicious words, crouched down, and reached for the small purple-clay medicine pot.

I'd searched old kilns everywhere for that antique pot because I needed the best possible extraction.

Inside it was the heart-protecting pill I'd spent three days and nights refining for her to take today.

Just as my fingers were about to touch the pot, the old woman slammed her cane down.

The purple-clay pot shattered instantly. The heart-protecting pill that had cost me endless effort was crushed mercilessly into the floor.

I lifted my head and looked at the old woman quietly.

So this was the family I'd poured my heart into saving for five years.

Tyler sneered from the side.

"What? Heartbroken over your junk?"

He glanced at the dense blisters and scars on the back of my hand from making medicine, his face full of disdain.

"Don't show off those disgusting hands to play pitiful. Who's that bitter little act for? It makes me nauseous."

Calmly, I bent down, picked up the old medical book, and patted the dust off it.

"Since you're all this confident, I wish Old Mrs. Whitmore a long life."

After that, I walked out the front door without looking back.

Tyler stood by the doorway with his arms crossed and sneered at my back. "Stop pretending you're noble. Without the Whitmore family, you won't even be able to afford food.

"Watch. In less than three days, he'll crawl back like a dog and--"

Before he could finish, every Whitmore face froze.

At the gate, a Rolls-Royce with a string of matching VIP plates stopped in front of me.

The door opened, and a middle-aged woman hurried out.

Under the Whitmores' stunned gazes, she walked to me and bowed respectfully.

"Mr. Whitmore, we've finally found you."

I recognized her and nodded faintly.

"Let's go."

She respectfully opened the car door for me. I sat in the back, and the door closed.

The Rolls-Royce drove away, leaving the four Whitmores standing there in shock.