From a distance, Julian and Seraphina watched the intimate scene unfold like a slow-burning fuse.

Jealousy bled into Seraphina’s vision, tinting the world crimson as she tracked every movement between Evelyn and Adrian. To her eyes, the familiarity between them wasn't just suspicious; it was scandalous.

"Julian, look at him," she hissed. "Your cousin treats Evelyn better than his own blood. He’s introducing her to the town officials, handing her money and coupons... does that look normal to you?"

Julian’s chest tightened with a dull, nagging ache. Watching Evelyn pour water for Adrian had struck a chord of memory he didn't want to play. He remembered the factory rallies, how Evelyn used to bring him water with rock sugar dissolved in it to cut the heat. Now, that cool relief was being offered to another man.

Seraphina waited for the realization to dawn on him, but Julian’s mind refused to go where she wanted.

"Adrian is your cousin, yes," she pressed, her voice a sharp needle, "but he’s only four years older than you. He’s barely eight years older than Evelyn. In the grand scheme of things, they’re the same generation."

Still, Julian remained silent, his brow furrowed in stubborn confusion.

"I’m saying their relationship isn't ordinary!" Seraphina finally snapped, losing patience.

Julian turned a dark, warning look her way. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I think it’s... unseemly," she spat. "A hidden affair. Something shameful."

Julian’s eyes widened, his jaw locking so tight his teeth creaked. A string of words exploded from him, hushed but violent. "Seraphina! You have a heart condition, for God’s sake—not a mental one! Do you even hear the garbage coming out of your mouth?"

It was the first time Julian had ever raised his voice at her in anger. Seraphina’s face flushed a deep, humiliated red. "I’m not making it up! Look at how he pampers her! Look at the life you're living—does he care? He ignores his own cousin to play guardian to a woman whose engagement was just broken. You don't find it convenient that they both ended up in Qingfeng Town?"

Julian was fuming. He knew exactly why Adrian was cold toward him, but Seraphina was blind to the family's internal shames. "Stop this nonsense, Seraphina! It’s impossible. It can’t happen."

"And if I'm right?"

Julian leaned in, his voice vibrating with a low, guttural intensity. "It is categorically impossible. Even if our engagement is over, we were betrothed for five years. If my cousin touched her, he’d be throwing his entire political career into the fire. He’d be ruined."

Besides, Julian knew a secret about Adrian’s "physical condition"—a private shame that made a romantic entanglement with any woman, let alone Evelyn, an impossibility in his mind.

Seraphina didn't know the source of Julian’s ironclad confidence, but the doubt remained. They were too close.

"Drop it," Julian warned, his eyes dark with a sudden, brooding authority. "If a word of this reaches Adrian’s ears, I won't be able to protect you."

Seraphina bit her lip and looked back. Evelyn was gone. Adrian stood alone among his colleagues, silhouetted against the backdrop of the distant, emerald mountains. He had shed his jacket in the afternoon heat, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that looked lean and powerful. He looked every bit the rising star—refined, yet possessing a rugged, tireless strength.

Compared to the tired men around him, Adrian radiated a magnetic capability. For a fleeting second, Seraphina felt her own heart flutter. She had never considered him before, but if a "low" creature like Evelyn could catch his eye, why couldn't she?

Then she looked at Julian. No—she knew how to handle Julian. She had him pinned under her thumb. Adrian, however, was a wolf she didn't know how to tame.

"Break's over!" Barrett’s voice boomed through a megaphone, shattering the quiet. "Back to the fields! Move it!"

As the others shuffled back into the heat, Seraphina remained behind in the shade of the trees, citing her delicate health.

The afternoon sun was a physical weight. In the fields, the workers moved through a shimmering haze of heat, their clothes soaked through with salt and sweat. Julian, the pampered son of a factory director, had long since abandoned his dignity. No matter how much Mark goaded or insulted him, he simply couldn't move his scythe any faster.

"Julian! Caleb! Are you statues or men? Move!"

"Caleb, if I see you daydreaming again, I'm reporting you to Barrett!"

"Dominic! Get your brother in line! If our group finishes last, we're going to have words with you useless lot!"

Caleb was too exhausted to even argue. He was hot, he was tired, and he felt like he was dying. "Evelyn... I hate you," he whimpered, tears of sheer frustration mingling with the grime on his face as he stacked the wheat.

"If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be in this godforsaken countryside! I’d be home, eating popsicles in front of a fan!" He wept and cursed, cursed and reaped.

Evelyn, meanwhile, had made a strategic move. After a quick word with Barrett, she had transferred herself to the "Elder and Children" unit. Since she was technically an "extra" worker, the move was framed as an act of fairness to the other competitive teams.

When Seraphina realized what had happened, she immediately ran to Barrett to lodge a complaint. Barrett wiped the stinging sweat from his eyes, his patience for Seraphina having evaporated hours ago.

"I gave your group two extra men, and you're complaining about one girl helping the old folks?" he barked. "Am I the village chief, or are you? Mind your own business and stay out of mine!"

Seraphina stood there, face burning, as the surrounding workers chuckled at her expense.

By sunset, despite Mark’s frantic pace, the "dead weight" in their group proved too much to overcome. When the final tallies were called, their team sat at the very bottom of the rankings.

To everyone’s surprise, the Elders and Children hadn't fared poorly at all. The seniors had decades of muscle memory and technique that the city youths lacked, and the children, bolstered by Evelyn’s constant, sugary encouragement, had worked like ants.

"Look at those city boys," Evelyn had whispered to the kids throughout the day. "They’re flagging. If we just push a little harder, we’ll leave them in the dust! We don't need to be first—we just need to make sure we aren't last!"

Her psychological warfare had worked. They finished third from the bottom.

For the losers, the atmosphere was funereal. Finishing last didn't just mean losing face; it meant they were disqualified from the upcoming teacher selection at the local school. Instead, their "reward" was a week of the most back-breaking, foul-smelling job in the village: hauling and spreading fertilizer.

"There was only one teaching spot anyway," Seraphina said, trying to soothe the bruised egos. "Even if we qualified, the odds were against us."

Hazel, covered in dust and trembling from exhaustion, turned a look of pure vitriol on Seraphina. "Shut up, Seraphina! You have to qualify to have a chance. Now, we don't even have a seat at the table because of you!"