Then, Charles Northwood’s voice on the other end of the line was filled with deep frustration. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝘯𝘦𝘵 "I thought, with our relationship, you’d be the first to find me no matter where I was." Nia Mitchell bit her lip, leaning against the massive glass. She watched the Chef preparing the Sweet and Sour Ribs and about to cook some eggplant. "You should know that if you had told me, I would have appeared before you in the shortest possible time, regardless of the cost. But... you didn’t say anything. Nia Mitchell, you didn’t look for me." Nia Mitchell scratched her head and turned towards the Living Room. "It’s precisely because I know your personality that I didn’t tell you. I’m doing fine now, and it’s not as if this outcome is necessarily bad." If it weren’t for Hendry Hampton, how would she have met Uncle Peary? "I’m back," Charles Northwood suddenly said, changing the subject. Nia Mitchell was stunned for a moment. He said he’s back? He came back? "Back? Back to Capital Town?" "Yes, I’m at the airport now. Will you... pick me up?" "Of course! I’ll call Fiona Sutton, and we’ll go pick you up together—" "No need," Charles Northwood suddenly interrupted her. "Just you alone is fine. I called Fiona Sutton earlier. She’s busy now." Nia Mitchell couldn’t imagine what Fiona might be busy with, but she didn’t dwell on it. "Oh, then I’ll leave right away. Wait for me there." Nia Mitchell hurriedly hung up the phone, ran upstairs to change her clothes, grabbed her small bag, and then PATTER, PATTER, PATTER, she dashed downstairs. "Madam?" the butler asked, looking worried. Every time he saw her dashing about, he couldn’t help but worry. "Mr. Jin, I’m going out to meet a friend. I won’t be home for dinner tonight." As she said this, Nia Mitchell had already run to the Entrance Hall and was starting to change her shoes. "Meeting a friend? Does the Young Master know about this?" Looking at the time, if Young Master Peary isn’t working overtime at the Company, he should be home soon. "I’ll call and tell him." Nia Mitchell finished changing her shoes, stood up, opened the door, and was about to leave. "Let the driver take you," the butler urged, hurrying after her to the Entrance Hall, ready to instruct the driver. "No need, I’ll take a taxi. Bye~~~" Nia Mitchell hurriedly opened the door and dashed out. Charles Northwood called her after he’d already arrived at the airport; wouldn’t he have to wait for a long time? The mere thought of him sitting alone and bored at the airport made Nia Mitchell wish she had a pair of wings to WHOOSH straight to her destination. Watching Nia Mitchell’s retreating figure, the butler couldn’t help but shake his head. Is this the energy of youth? Just as Nia Mitchell got into a taxi and drove off, a Rolls-Royce passed by, going in the opposite direction. Maxwell Peary got out of the car, carrying a briefcase in one hand and loosening his tie with the other. Coincidentally, the butler hadn’t closed the main door yet, and Maxwell Peary walked over from a distance. As Maxwell Peary reached the Entrance Hall, he began to change his shoes, his eyes already scanning the Living Room. Nia Mitchell isn’t in the Living Room? Could she be in the Bedroom? "Dinner is ready, Sir. Are you planning to eat first, or...?" Maxwell Peary slipped on his house slippers. "I’ll go check on Madame first." With that, he headed upstairs. At that moment, the butler’s heart was struck by what felt like two enormous words: Damn! Didn’t Madam say she was going to call Young Master Peary to tell him she was going out and wouldn’t be home for dinner? What’s happening now? How am I, an old man, supposed to handle Young Master Peary’s unpredictable reaction to this?