After spending three days at the Jenkins residence, Zionis returned to Cloud Harbor that afternoon. Zinnia unhitched the deer and, forgetting everything, found the house was eerily quiet. “Master?”

Zinnia slipped off her shoes as she stepped inside. She had told Nathan she’d be back tomorrow, but for some reason, she just felt a sudden urge to return.

Zinnia dropped her small backpack on the couch. Feeling a bit thirsty, she headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get some water. Freck milk was kept in the refrigerator. She took out a bottle.

The milk was ice-cold, so she placed it on the countertop. She tiptoed to search the upper cabinets for the milk warmer. Since she hadn’t been home for a few days, Nathan must have put things away.

Nathan was the one who organized everything, and since Zinnia rarely came into the kitchen, she had no idea where anything was. She crouched down and started opening the cabinets one by one.

As Zinnia opened a newly opened cabinet, a faint medicinal scent drifted out. She froze mid-movement, her hand paused in the air.

She moved aside a pot blocking the front, then reached in to feel around. Soon, her fingers closed around a bundle wrapped in brown parchment paper, which she pulled out. The subtle herbal aroma spread as the air circulated.

Without even opening it, Zinnia could already tell what herbs were inside. These herbs were typically used to treat hemoptysis, persistent blood-tinged sputum, progressive hoarseness, and even loss of voice.

Zinnia’s chest tightened, her white-knuckled grip on the herbal pouch betraying her anxiety. Her fingers trembled as she slowly unwrapped the packet.

Zinnia didn’t dare consider the possibility that something was wrong with Nathan’s health. What should have taken only a few seconds stretched into a full minute before she finally managed to open the herbal pouch.

As the herbal pouch opened, the medicinal scent intensified. Nathan had specially treated the paper to mask the smell. When properly sealed, no ordinary person would notice it, but Zinnia’s sense of smell was unusually acute.

Zinnia stared at the damp herbal dregs in her palm. She rubbed them between her fingers, gauging the moisture. ‘They must have been brewed this morning. Master didn’t have time to dispose of them,’ she thought.

Zinnia’s throat tightened, and she instinctively pressed a hand to her aching chest. She thought, ‘He really is sick.’

She folded the herbal pouch and put it back. She wiped the corners of her eyes, then stood up. Leaving the kitchen, Zinnia abruptly turned and headed for Nathan’s room.

She had already checked the study earlier; there was no sign of Nathan. Unless he’d gone out, his room was the only place left. Zinnia knocked gently on the door. “Master, are you there?”

She called again, her voice softer now, “Master?” There was still no response from inside. Zinnia’s eyes brimmed with growing concern.

She pushed against the door, and when Nathan still didn’t answer, she swung it open herself.

The room was dead silent, the curtains drawn, leaving the bedroom in darkness. A sliver of light from the living room crept in. Zinnia could make out a figure lying on the bed, beneath a thin blanket.

The light happened to fall across his face, revealing Nathan’s refined features. Exhaustion must have claimed him, and he didn’t stir at all.

Zinnia stepped into the room, where she could hear only the faint sound of breathing. She tiptoed to the bedside and sat down on the floor; her eyes fixed on Nathan’s hand resting outside the blanket.

Instinctively, she wanted to reach out and hold it. Her hand slowly reached out, inching closer.

“Zinnia.” Nathan groggily opened his eyes, startled to see a head peeking over the side of the bed. He instinctively withdrew the hand that had been resting on the blanket.

“Master,” Zinnia hadn’t expected him to wake up just then. She reached for his hand, but he withdrew it too quickly, leaving her fingers grasping empty air.

“You’re back this afternoon?” Nathan asked, his voice still thick with sleep. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.” He pretended not to notice the hesitant look on her face as he propped himself up in bed, clad in soft black silk pajamas.

The pajamas hugged his slender frame, accentuating his defined collarbones. Disheveled hair fell across his forehead, and his handsome face, still clouded with sleep, held a refined, slightly dazed allure.

Nathan looked down at the young girl by his bedside, his green, glistening eyes pooled with concern.

“I just suddenly wanted to come back.” Zinnia’s voice was still hoarse.

Nathan looked at her with concern. “What’s wrong? Did something upset you?” He instantly caught the unusual tone in her voice. He grabbed the curtain remote from the nightstand and pressed it.

The curtains slid open, letting in floods of light, though the day outside was gray and overcast, with barely any sunlight.

Nathan leaned down again, his worried gaze lingering on her.

Zinnia pressed her lips together, silent. ‘Should I ask if he’s sick? Why didn’t he tell me? How serious is it?’ The questions tumbled in her mind, but she didn’t know what to say.

Zinnia’s throat felt tight as if stuffed with cotton. She opened her mouth several times, but the words just wouldn’t come. Overcome with worry, her eyes instantly brimmed with tears.

Nathan knelt down in front of her, his voice gentle and full of concern. “Zinnia, what’s wrong? Tell me, please.” Seeing Zinnia’s eyes instantly well up with tears, Nathan grew frantic. He threw off the covers, got out of bed, and knelt before her.

“Zinnia, what’s wrong? Please tell me,” Nathan pleaded. He gently cradled Zinnia’s face in his hands, forgetting his own heartache. His entire being was consumed by her emotions.

Zinnia had been holding back her emotions, but seeing the deep worry in Nathan’s eyes, the dam finally broke. Tears streamed down her face in an unstoppable flow.

Her throat burned with painful tightness as if blocked by an invisible weight. She wanted to speak, but the words stuck in her constricted throat.

“Don’t cry, Zinnia. What’s wrong? Please tell me what’s bothering you.” The moment Zinnia burst into tears, Nathan was utterly at a loss.

Zinnia rarely cried. In the over ten years Nathan had raised her, she’d only been prone to tears as a child; as she grew older, she became less emotionally responsive.

She had cried so few times that one could count them on one hand. For her to break down like this meant something truly unbearable must have happened.

“Zinnia, I’m here,” Nathan said gently. Knowing she couldn’t stop crying, Nathan leaned over and wrapped her in his arms, softly patting her back and murmuring gentle reassurances. But the more he tried to comfort her, the harder Zinnia sobbed.

“M–Master,” Zinnia choked out, a painful tightness in her chest as she instinctively grabbed Nathan’s collar. Her body shook with violent sobs, and her face drained of all color.

“Zinnia, look at me.” Noticing her distress, Nathan’s heart lurched. He released her and studied Zinnia’s ashen face, then applied firm pressure to a point on her back.

He quickly retrieved a white pill bottle from his drawer, shook out a tablet, and pressed it between Zinnia’s lips. “Zinnia, swallow it. Now!” His voice was barely restrained. Nathan was growing anxious.

Zinnia’s throat burned with pain, every swallow a cruel struggle. But meeting Nathan’s worried gaze, she forced herself to swallow anyway.

“Zinnia, look at me. Don’t think about anything else and just focus on me. Clear your mind,” Nathan said gently. Nathan gripped her shoulders firmly, making her meet his gaze.

Zinnia’s chest heaved with choking sobs, but at his words, she forced herself to lock eyes with Nathan.

Zinnia gradually sharpened her eyes until Nathan’s face came into clear view, reflected in her teary eyes. Nathan gazed into her tear-blurred and hazy eyes; he thought, ‘It feels like needles are stabbing into my heart.’