Oscar parked his car outside a farmstay on the outskirts. It wasn’t until Amelia got down from the car did she notice the name of the place—Happy Farmstay.

The corner of Amelia’s mouth twitched. What a simple name.

“This place belongs to one of my friends. Let’s head inside,” Oscar informed, walking toward her.

As soon as they entered, a fancily dressed server walked over and bowed with a smile. “Mr. Clinton? They are already waiting inside.”

Oscar hummed in reply.

“Mr. Clinton, this way, please.” The server then motioned them toward the inside.

On the way to their destination, Amelia had sighed in awe of how luxurious the farmstay looked. She had thought that it was an ordinary farmstay, but the farmstay had some vintage elements added to it, so it now looked elegant and lavish. Moreover, the farmstay seemed spacious—Amelia was sure that the owner must have invested a hefty sum in it.

ones who were not born into wealthy families had earned their wealth

there were around

with most of them being curious

not as unwelcoming as she thought

two men from her wedding four years ago, but not

aren’t you? If I were to have a

to Amelia, “He’s my childhood friend. There are government

nearly

Jacques Ford. It’s a pleasure to meet

and Oscar

a pleasure to meet you too,” Amelia greeted as she shook his

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