Maeve said, lowering her eyes and changing the subject, "I'm short-sighted and can't see clearly. Be careful not to break the roots. If you kill the seedlings, Gilbert will give you a piece of his mind." Byron was left speechless. He ignored her, but his movements clearly slowed.

This piece of land was neither large nor small. With the three of them working together, they had almost finished transplanting the seedlings in less than an hour.

The first few rows of seedlings were Maeve's masterpieces. They were so neat that their arrangement seemed measured by a ruler. The middle section, Byron's work, was, to put it mildly, uneven.

Gilbert's section, at the back, looked quite decent. When he saw Byron's rows, he nearly hit him with his walking stick. "Look at yours, and look at Maeve's," he said. "You didn't bother learning from her."

Byron was about to explain when Maeve hurriedly said, "Gilbert, Mr. Byron is planting for the first time and has no experience. It's already quite good that he managed to plant them this way." She thought, At least they've been planted.

Watching her defend Byron, Gilbert said mischievously, "With his clumsy hands, you're the only one who finds his arrangement of seedlings good."

Maeve blushed, saying nothing. Byron squinted and smiled at her.

After entering the villa, Maeve followed Byron to the washroom. Washing her face, she said enviously, "I noticed earlier that, other than the outermost part of the garden filled with flowerbeds, the middle part is used by Gilbert to grow vegetables. It's such a large piece of land. It must look spectacular if the entire land were planted with vegetable seedlings."

She thought, It has always been my dream to buy a house with a yard where I can grow vegetables. It would be so fulfilling to harvest them.

Wiping his face with a towel, Byron said, "With Grandpa's energy, he won't be able to plant the whole area by next year."

"That's true. Gilbert's health isn't good," Maeve said, wiping water droplets from her face. "But we're here to help, aren't we?"

Byron paused, wiping his face, and looked at her with a half-smile. "Didn't you want a divorce? What's with 'we'?"

He left the washroom, leaving Maeve stunned.

After leaving the washroom, Maeve walked to the living room. At Gilbert's gesture, she sat opposite him at the chessboard. Looking around, she asked, "Gilbert, where's Mr. ... ahem, I mean, Byron?"

"He went upstairs to change clothes," Gilbert said, placing a white piece on the board. "Maeve, do you know how to play chess?"

Maeve nodded. "Gilbert, I only know a little and am not very skilled. If you don't mind, may I play a game with you?"

"That's great."

Gilbert placed a black piece and casually said, "Maeve, did the fake news about Byron's plane crash scare you?" He had subsequently heard everything that happened that day in the war from the hospital director.

Maeve was stunned. She pursed her lips and said, "Yeah. I was a little scared."

"Don't be fooled by the fact that he's the leader of the corporation and can get whatever he wants," Gilbert said, holding a chess piece and smiling. "In reality, he's hopeless, even when it comes to planting vegetables."

"But he doesn't need to know how to do that," Maeve said softly. "It would be odd if someone in his position knew how to plant vegetables."

She thought, With Byron's status, planting vegetables is probably a kind of mental torture for him.

Gilbert shook his head. "Have you seen my garden?"

"I've seen it."

"Who said people must plant only flowers in a garden? If I'm happy, I can plant vegetables and trees in it. Who said that's wrong?"

Maeve's eyes were filled with confusion. "Gilbert, I don't quite understand."

Gilbert continued, "Silly girl, perhaps vegetable seedlings aren't suitable for planting in a garden, but sometimes liking is more important than suitability. Human life is brief. Isn't the point to find joy?"

Maeve finally understood and thought, Gilbert is taking care of my feelings after I learned about Byron's true identity. He's trying to help me understand the situation so that I won't be bothered. I wonder how he figured out that I was bothered.

Maeve blinked back tears. "Gilbert, shall we continue the game?"

"Alright." Gilbert nodded with a smile.

Over ten minutes later, Byron came downstairs after changing his clothes. The moment he entered the living room, he saw them engaged in a fierce chess match.

Gilbert's chess-playing skills were superb. Even his friends often had a hard time winning against him. Unexpectedly, Maeve was able to hold her own and even draw with him.

A hint of surprise flashed across Byron's eyes. His gaze toward Maeve became deeper, revealing complex emotions.

Chess always tested one's temperament and patience; people's true nature could be seen through their playing styles. Maeve's style was completely different from her gentle appearance. She was decisive and aggressive, with each move driven by a fierce determination to destroy her opponent. Gilbert, on the other hand, was more shrewd and strategic. He understood that the chessboard was like a battlefield, and every move was a trap.

Naturally, Maeve's black pieces fell into a difficult situation. She frowned, thinking hard. Suddenly, she saw a slender finger tap a part of the chessboard.

"Place your piece here," his magnetic voice reached her ears. Byron held the armrest of Maeve's seat. When he leaned over, she turned her head. Her lips brushed against his chin.

Byron's back tensed. Maeve's eyes widened; she quickly turned her head back, but the tips of her ears flushed, which Byron noticed. Gilbert, sitting across from her, saw everything and smiled radiantly. His worry eased slightly.

"Byron, I'm playing chess with Maeve. What's with you coming over to cheat?" Gilbert asked, picking up his coffee cup. "Supporting your wife, huh?"

Maeve blushed. "Gilbert, I've already lost..."

"Ignore him," Byron said hoarsely. He moved one of her black chess pieces. "Grandpa, it's your turn."

Gilbert snorted and continued the game. Grandfather and grandson exchanged moves; Gilbert knew how to set traps, and Byron knew how to counter them. Maeve thought, Sure enough, Gilbert went easy on me just now. Otherwise, with the way things are going now, I would've lost long ago.

"Move over a bit," Byron said, his eyes fixed on the chessboard.

Maeve scooted over. It wasn't until she felt the warmth beside her that she realized they were cramped on the single seat. Maeve flushed intensely.

Fortunately, Gilbert soon put down his chess piece. "I'm not playing anymore. Rascal, how can you treat your own grandfather like this?"

Byron looked at the losing position of the white pieces with amusement. "Grandpa, you're making excuses to avoid losing again." Gilbert went to the kitchen to check on dinner.

Maeve secretly sighed in relief. Seeing Byron looking at her, she got nervous. "Wh-what's wrong?" she asked.

"I helped you defeat Grandpa," Byron said. "Where's my reward?" He tapped the chessboard. "It's not too much to kiss me, right?"