Seven years had passed, and Kristina had finally returned to her homeland, but she hadn't told the Olivers.

At the airport, she maneuvered a trolley stacked with suitcases as her tall coworker casually added one more bag to the pile.

Tapping her shoulder lightly, he said, "Appreciate it, Zero."

Kristina simply smiled without replying. During her years abroad, the Oliver family had never supported her financially. At her hardest moments, she had picked crops in fields and taken exhausting construction jobs just to get by. Compared to those struggles, hauling luggage was effortless.

Her colleague strolled beside her with empty hands, casually taking photos on his phone.

People passing by glanced at them and shook their heads, while a few couldn't resist making sarcastic remarks.

"Look at that. She's acting like a porter just to impress a guy. He must be rich, huh?"

"Some women are exactly like that. They're willing to do anything for money."

Hearing the unpleasant comments, Jason, who was there to receive important guests, unexpectedly thought of the girl he had sent overseas. Seven years had gone by, and he found himself wondering how Kristina was faring.

Had life forced her into a situation like the woman being mocked, making sacrifices to survive in a foreign land?

He immediately pushed the idea aside. That woman was likely motivated by financial need, but Kristina had received thirty thousand dollars every month from him for the past seven years without interruption.

Even in a high-cost place like Mekania, that amount was more than enough to ensure a comfortable lifestyle.

The university he chose for her wasn't particularly challenging. She only needed to complete her studies and collect her degree.

Seven years ought to have been enough for her to mature and gain some perspective. The time had come for her to return.

Thinking of this, Jason turned to Rylan Harrison, the CEO of AcePharma Group, and asked, "Didn't you mention traveling to Mekania to recruit that up-and-coming pharmaceutical specialist, Zero? When are you planning to go?"

Three days ago, Alexander Anderson, one of the nation's most respected scientists, passed away unexpectedly. As a member of the nation's top academies and recipient of a prestigious international scientific award, his death sent shockwaves through government institutions and pharmaceutical organizations alike.

AcePharma Group suffered the greatest impact, with several major pharmaceutical research projects suddenly losing momentum.

The company desperately needed a qualified researcher to take over and ensure those projects continued progressing.

Their top candidate was Alexander's most gifted student, the researcher known only as Zero.

At Jason's question, Rylan lifted his gaze from the game he had been playing on his phone.

He brushed a finger against the snake-shaped ear cuff decorating his left ear and replied lazily, "Zero is actually part of the Mekania delegation you've come to welcome."

Jason was momentarily stunned before it made sense. Rylan's influence extended far beyond business, and with his extensive connections, it wasn't surprising he had access to information others didn't.

Curiosity got the better of Jason. "How old is Zero? Is she from our nation?"

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Rylan replied, "Yes, she's our compatriot. I know nothing else about her. She's incredibly secretive."

"A lot of elite researchers prefer to stay out of public view," Jason remarked. "Still, it's unusual for someone of her caliber to leave behind virtually no trace of information."

While they were talking, someone nearby announced, "The delegation has arrived."

Both men turned toward the arrival gate. Moments later, a group of men walked out.

Leading the group was Hank Phillips. The moment he saw Rylan, he enthusiastically opened his arms as though preparing for a hug.

Rylan's brow furrowed. Avoiding the embrace, he simply offered a handshake instead.

Since the delegation was being welcomed on behalf of the government, Jason stepped forward and introduced himself smoothly.

Following a short round of greetings, Jason prepared to arrange transportation to their hotel.

Hank suddenly looked behind him and said, "Just a moment. We're still waiting for one more person. Ah, there she is."

Was the final arrival the mysterious Zero?

Jason and Rylan immediately turned toward the spot Hank was pointing at.

A tall young woman approached them. Dressed casually in jeans and a plain shirt, she was partially hidden behind a mountain of luggage, leaving only her bright eyes visible.

She was none other than the woman who had just been the subject of everyone's gossip.

As Jason considered asking someone to assist her, Rylan's calm voice cut through the air. "Hank, did you guys leave your hands at home?"

Hank and the other experts hesitated, failing to grasp the mockery behind his words.

The group looked at one another in bewilderment.

Still, even without fully understanding, they could tell it wasn't praise.

The local staff struggled to keep straight faces.

As expected from the CEO of the nation's leading pharmaceutical firm, Rylan's remarks always carried a sharp edge.

A light laugh sounded from behind the luggage trolley. The woman then emerged from behind the stacked suitcases and said, "Gentlemen, you've misunderstood. I was just doing my job."

Doing her job? To them, it only reinforced the impression that she was willingly doing all the heavy lifting to curry favor.

Rylan merely spared her an indifferent look before turning away, while Jason stood rooted to the spot, staring at her in disbelief.

The woman standing before him had graceful brows and long eyelashes. When she smiled, her eyes softened into crescents, and shallow dimples appeared at the corners of her lips.

Kristina? He found it difficult to reconcile this poised young woman with the girl from his memories.

At the same moment, Kristina's gaze landed on Jason.

The years appeared to have treated him kindly. His handsome features remained unchanged, and he still looked gentle and refined.

Bitterness welled up inside Kristina. So much appeared unchanged, yet everything had become different.

Her thoughts drifted back to seven years earlier. After drinking the juice Ellie had handed her, she entered Room 3206 expecting to find Jason. Instead, a complete stranger was waiting inside, someone who seemed to be in as compromised a state as she was.

The room had been dim, making it impossible for either of them to see the other clearly. What lingered in her memory was only the warmth of his solid frame and the chaos of that unforgettable night.

The following morning, she was jolted awake by a sharp slap delivered by Vicki Cole, Jason's older sister, who was married.

From then on, she was branded with accusations of being shameless and lacking any moral character.

Even after all these years, Kristina still couldn't comprehend it. She had been the one wronged, so why had Vicki distorted the truth and painted her as the one who had schemed against Jason?

She had only turned eighteen. In a single night, she lost her reputation, her virginity, and the future she had planned. Denied the chance to sit for the SAT, she was sent abroad carrying the burden of everyone's accusations.

Yet her suffering was far from over. Shortly after arriving in Mekania, she was robbed and left with nothing. When she eventually managed to borrow a phone and reach out to Jason, he dismissed her call as another attempt to gain his pity, ending the call and blocking the number.

A young woman stranded alone in an unfamiliar country was vulnerable to countless dangers. Kristina knew how close she had come to becoming another victim. Had she not crossed paths with two compassionate international students who offered help, she might never have made it through those difficult days.

Kristina adjusted the sleeve on her left arm, pulling it snugly into place. Then she raised her gaze to Jason and said calmly, "Uncle Jason, long time no see."

As the shock faded, Jason gradually composed himself, though a mixture of emotions welled up inside him.

His throat felt tight as he spoke gently. "Kristina, how have you been all these years?"

Kristina avoided his gaze, caught in silence.

Saying she was fine felt like a lie, yet admitting the opposite was difficult when she was still standing there breathing.

She couldn't force herself to say she was doing fine.

Over those seven years, whether she was homeless or seriously ill, she had received no help at all and survived entirely on her own.

For seven long years, he had never reached out to her. Even a single phone call had felt like an unreachable hope.

Perhaps she should have walked away on her own when they insulted her and labeled her as shameless.

Instead, she had been sent abroad and deserted, clinging stubbornly to the belief that they would eventually soften, dialing a number that never went through repeatedly until hope slowly eroded into despair.

Noticing her silence, Jason instinctively reached out his hand, intending to pat her head as he once did.

Kristina moved immediately to the trolley, using the action as a way to avoid his touch.

Jason's hand stalled in the air, stiff and uncertain, before slowly curling shut as he withdrew it.

The girl he remembered would have run straight into his arms, breaking down as she released years of bottled-up pain without restraint.

But now, she stood apart from him, distant and guarded, clearly still harboring resentment.

He tried to rationalize it. After all, he had sent an eighteen-year-old overseas alone; even with financial support, loneliness and fear were inevitable.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have repeatedly found reasons to return—sometimes claiming robbery, sometimes illness—anything to make her way back.

That realization left Jason with a dull ache in his chest. Even after seven years, she still failed to understand his good intentions.

Just then, a coworker approached to take his luggage. Kristina offered Jason a brief apologetic smile, saying, "I need to return to work."

As she moved past Rylan with the trolley, she cast him a brief, almost reflexive side glance.

She had encountered many handsome men in her life, Jason being one of them.

But this man carried a completely different presence—sharp, intense, and almost intimidating in his beauty, with deep-set eyes and a sharply defined nose bridge.

Still, he was a stranger to her.

Out of courtesy, she gave him a small nod and continued walking without pause.

Rylan turned his gaze away as well, and they passed without acknowledging each other further.

At that exact moment, a faint trace of lemon scent reached Rylan, triggering something buried in his memory.

The relaxed expression in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by sharp alertness. He inhaled again, focusing intently, his sense of smell unusually sharp.

That was it—fresh lemon blended with lavender, underlined by a faint woody tone.

Rylan's gaze snapped back to Kristina. That scent was identical to the one from the woman he had slept with seven years earlier.

"Wait," he called sharply after her.

Kristina turned toward Rylan, clearly startled, her eyes widening with visible confusion.

"Kristina, relax." Jason then stepped slightly away with Rylan, lowering his voice. "That's Kristina Jenner, the girl I took in. She was majoring in finance in Mekania. You don't actually think she's Zero, do you?"

Rylan didn't think the woman was Zero. But he saw no reason to tell Jason that she might be the woman who had slept with him seven years ago. The incident was known only to him, his bodyguard, Connor Howard, and his friend, Aaron Ford.

For seven years, Rylan had been searching for that woman, and that fixation had slowly turned into something bordering on obsession.

He looked at Kristina for a moment longer than necessary, silently committing her name to memory.

Once they reached the hotel, Kristina quickly began assisting Hank with the arrangements.

Jason watched her moving about so efficiently, a heavy, dull ache forming in his chest. The girl he once cherished now stood in service to others.

After seeing Hank to his room, Kristina brushed off the sweat on her brow and said casually, "I lost fair and square, so I carried everyone's luggage. If you lose next time, no backing out."

Hank groaned theatrically, covering his face. "Seriously? Last time I lost, you made me wear a dress and dance in the square!"

Kristina was about to respond when she noticed Jason approaching and shifted aside. "Uncle Jason, are you here for Dr. Phillips?" she asked.

"No. I came for you." Jason's voice softened. "Kristina, come home with me."

Home. The word no longer had a place in her life. Yet she didn't resist. A faint, unreadable smile touched her lips as she nodded once. "Alright."

Even though they had cut her off financially since she went abroad, they had still raised her and provided her with the best education from the age of ten to eighteen. That part of her past was real, and she couldn't simply erase it.

More importantly, she had come back for answers about seven years ago. Returning to the Oliver residence was unavoidable.

Inside the car, Jason broke the silence first. "You're just doing odd jobs in Hank's lab?"

Kristina hesitated briefly. Her position wasn't clearly defined, so she gave a small nod.

"Leave it," Jason said firmly.

Kristina turned to him. "Why would I do that?"

"That kind of work doesn't even reach ten thousand a month. How do you expect that to cover what you're wearing?"

Kristina glanced down at her designer clothes, a small, almost mocking smile flickering across her face.

Did he think she was living off him?

He didn't even realize her card had been canceled and never replaced.

Not once had he asked how she had survived all these years with nothing to rely on.

Jason's expression softened as if reassured. "The civil service exam is in four months. Study properly. I'll handle the rest for you."

Kristina tilted her head slightly. "Government jobs don't pay much either."

"You don't understand yet. It's about status; that's what secures your future marriage. You're not like those upper-class girls."

In his eyes, without family backing, she could only climb through effort alone.

She could tell he truly believed he was helping her.

The life he envisioned for her began where most people spent their entire lives trying to arrive.

But it wasn't a path she wanted.

She had her own direction in life, something that had kept her moving even in her darkest, poorest days.

She swallowed the ache in her chest and asked quietly, "Uncle Jason, are you not angry anymore?"

Jason paused, catching the implication behind her words.

He had long since let go of that anger.

He had been furious in the beginning, but time had long since diluted it. After years of navigating public life, those old frustrations over a teenage girl's defiance no longer mattered to him.

He gave a small, patient smile. "I was angry because you were reckless. But you've changed now, haven't you? You're not still blaming me, are you?"

Kristina lowered her eyes slightly. "I wouldn't dare."

She wouldn't dare voice it, but that didn't mean the resentment had disappeared.

Jason chose to ignore the underlying meaning in her words and shifted the topic to her life overseas.

"It was alright," she replied briefly. "Mostly classes, home, and the library."

To Jason, her tone sounded distant, almost like dissatisfaction, so he didn't probe further. The rest of the drive passed in silence as they headed back to the Oliver residence.

When they arrived, a wave of emotion washed over Kristina.

Seven years earlier, she had sat on that very swing, dreaming about what her future might look like. She had once picked roses from the garden and placed them carefully in Jason's room.

Now, the swing chains were freshly maintained, and the roses were still blooming vividly. On the surface, nothing here seemed to have changed.

"Kristina? Is that you?" a familiar elderly voice called from inside.

Kristina turned and saw an older woman stepping out in a deep magenta silk dress.

"Grandma," Kristina greeted, quickly moving forward to steady her.

Jason's mother, Nancy Oliver, wrapped Kristina in a tight embrace, her voice shaking with emotion. "Oh, sweetheart, you're finally home. The moment you left, I was filled with regret. A young girl like you, all alone in a foreign country with no family or friends... it must have been so difficult."

Kristina managed a smile, masking the sadness in her eyes. Back then, her phone had been stolen, but she still remembered all their numbers by heart. Once she got a new SIM card, she sent her contact to everyone. If anyone had truly cared, she wouldn't have gone seven years without hearing from them.

Jason spoke calmly, offering reassurance. "Mom, she needed time to grow on her own. See? She's come back perfectly fine."

Nancy held Kristina's hands and studied her closely. Though dressed modestly, every piece Kristina wore was clearly high-end, and the necklace at her collarbone alone was a luxury item worth a fortune.

Nancy nodded in satisfaction. "Go in first. Freshen up and rest. Rita has prepared your favorite chicken pot pie."

A maid quietly escorted Kristina upstairs. Watching her disappear, Nancy exhaled softly and said to Jason, "She's a grown-up woman now."

Jason remained silent, his gaze fixed on her retreating form, the white shirt drifting like a distant sail fading away.

Lowering her voice, Nancy added, "Just look at what she's wearing. Even though she hasn't stayed with us these years, you've clearly still provided for her."

...

Kristina pushed the door open and stopped short—the room inside no longer resembled what she remembered at all.

When she was young, Nancy had filled the room with soft pink tones. She used to lie under the canopy bed, imagining herself as a princess in a painted dollhouse.

As she grew older, she outgrew the childish decor but never felt entitled to change it since it wasn't her home. She only removed the canopy and replaced the bedding with neutral shades.

Now, the entire space had been redesigned into a muted, upscale aesthetic. Soft beige tones filled the room, and every piece of furniture looked custom-built with refined precision.

For a moment, she doubted she had entered the right place until she saw the vanity set, clearly arranged for a young woman.

Had the Olivers renovated it earlier, quietly preparing it for her return?

A wave of warmth stirred in her guarded heart. Before everything fell apart, they had indeed been kind to her.

Maybe it was time to explain everything properly. Even without their financial support over the past seven years, she had managed on her own—finishing her postdoctoral research at Blison University, joining Hank's lab, and now returning to establish her career.

She walked over to the wardrobe, just about to open it, when the maid's voice stopped her. "Please leave. This isn't your room."

Kristina turned around. It was the same maid who had brought her upstairs.

She glanced around the room again; it didn't really match Vicki's taste.

However, apart from Vicki, already in her forties, there wasn't any young woman in the household.

Could it be Jason's girlfriend?

Unable to hold back her curiosity, Kristina asked, "Then whose room is this?"

"Mine," a voice answered.

Kristina turned toward the sound, her eyes narrowing slightly in recognition.