The next morning, Scarlett rose early. The servants had informed her that the little boy no longer carried an electric charge, so there was no need to worry about a repeat of yesterday's incident.
Truth be told, she had rather enjoyed the sensation—it had been years since she last felt anything like it. "How is that boy doing?" she asked.
The maid dressing her smiled inwardly, pleased with her own foresight in preparing for this very question. "Madam, the boy from yesterday has woken up. He no longer shocks anyone, but according to Emma, he seems to be blind. And he refuses to speak—could he be mute as well?"
Scarlett nodded but said nothing more. Once the maid finished dressing her, she ordered, "Prepare some pastries. I wish to see the boy."
The maid was stunned. Never before had the mistress personally delivered food to any man. But then again, it wasn't entirely Scarlett's fault—yesterday, when Elliott had grabbed her, it had reminded her of how she and William had first met.
Yet she had another motive. For years, she had sent spies to Dali, gathering intelligence on the Rockefeller family, all for the day she could exact her revenge. But the imperial palace of Dali was teeming with martial masters, making her task impossible.
Now, this boy might just be the key. When she had seen him yesterday, she had recognized his potential—he had the makings of a martial prodigy.
Though he was five years behind the usual training age for children, she was confident she could accelerate his cultivation. With enhanced inner strength, he could serve her purposes.
The blindness was unfortunate, but surely it could be treated. At worst, she could assign someone to guide him. No one would ever guess her true intentions.
Elliott, meanwhile, was deeply troubled. He remembered dying—feeling exhausted, then slowly drifting into sleep as the pain in his body faded.
But the agony in his heart had only grown sharper. Then, without warning, a blinding white light had flashed, and he had lost consciousness. When he came to, he found himself lying on the ground.
A woman had been leaning over him, breathing into his mouth. She smelled lovely, but he was in no mood for such things. His eyelids were too heavy to open, so he had tried to push her away—only for an electric current to surge through his arm, numbing it and sending his hand colliding with her.
He hadn't understood why she suddenly collapsed, but he had been relieved to hear her promise to take care of him. What confused him more was the absence of Western medicine—instead, he was subjected to traditional Chinese diagnostics. When he learned he was blind, he realized his eyes had been gouged out.
Something about this place felt off. Was it just the blindness, or was there more to it?
"Greetings, Madam," a maid suddenly said respectfully. Elliott found it bizarre—were there still feudal households like this in the world?
"You may leave," Scarlett said. The maid set down the bowl without a second thought, ignoring the fact that Elliott hadn't finished eating. He sighed inwardly and fell silent.
A familiar fragrance reached him—the same scent from the woman yesterday. "Thank you, Madam," he said. "You saved my life."
Scarlett couldn't help but laugh. It had been so long since she last smiled, and hearing a child speak like an adult struck her as absurdly amusing. "No need for thanks," she replied. "Shouldn't a little boy like you find it tiring, pretending to be grown?"
Her voice was sweet, Elliott thought. But wait—what had she just said? A little boy? He reached up and touched his own body.
No… His frame had shrunk. No, no, no—I'm a dwarf now? First blindness, now this? God, just let me die already.