Reborn as Mr.CEO's Fat Wife-Chapter 949: Can We Consider This Growing Old Together?

Chapter 949: Chapter 949: Can We Consider This Growing Old Together?

On a winter night, two steaming bowls of noodles were served. Mary Scott took a bite and looked up at the man across from her in surprise.

The noodles were chewy, the broth rich yet not greasy, and there was a hint of sweetness added.

Mary had always thought that the "sweet" in sweet noodles was just a metaphor for harmony between couples. She never imagined that the noodles would genuinely have a sweet flavor. With one bite, all her anxiety, unease, and the chill clinging to her since that morning were gently smoothed away.

At this moment, even the look in her eyes as she gazed at David Locke was warm.

David, who hadn’t held high expectations for the symbolic meaning of the noodles, was also pleasantly surprised by the taste after a bite. When his eyes met Mary’s delighted expression, he couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, "Tastes good?"

Mary’s head nodded like a bobblehead doll. She hadn’t expected such an unexpected delight from a random noodle shop she had stumbled upon.

"If you like it, eat more." David said as he transferred a thin slice of beef from his bowl into Mary’s.

Mary felt a bit embarrassed by this gesture. She looked up at David and said, "You eat too."

David responded with a soft "Mhm." Maybe it was because of her unexpectedly gentle demeanor in the car earlier, but at this moment, everything about her seemed endearing to him. Suppressing the restless stir in his heart, he reached out and ruffled Mary’s hair before lowering his head to eat. Occasionally, he exchanged a few words with an elderly lady sitting nearby.

The lighting in the noodle shop was dim. An older man, who had mostly finished cleaning up, came out and spotted the elderly woman chatting with David and Mary. He muttered something to himself with a smile before heading off to busy himself again. The elderly woman, noticing this, turned to help him, and the two began talking about mundane details—deciding what time to open tomorrow, whether to buy more groceries.

Mary listened to the couple’s chatter, then glanced at their gray, weathered hair. Suddenly, it felt as though she had glimpsed the most humble, yet genuine, essence of love.

As they left the noodle shop, the old couple shut the doors behind them.

David, whose leg was still recovering, had re-casted his plaster today, making him walk very slowly. But Mary didn’t mind. She held his hand and matched his pace, one step at a time towards the car.

West Mountain belonged to the northern region, where snow fell frequently in winter. It hadn’t stopped snowing since the afternoon. In no time, both of their heads were dusted white. By the time they reached the car, Mary tilted her face up to glance at the man beside her. She suddenly remembered the elderly woman’s playful comment about how eating their noodles would lead to growing old together—and she couldn’t help but laugh.

David, seeing Mary also with snow flecking her hair, seemed to immediately understand her thoughts. He wrapped an arm around her waist and asked knowingly, "What are you thinking?"

"Thinking about how magical those noodles were. Do you think we’ll end up like them?" The winter wind and snow were biting cold, but nestled partially in David’s arms, Mary could only feel the warmth radiating from his palm through the thick layers of her coat. It emboldened her to ask questions she normally wouldn’t dare to venture into.

"Mhm, we will." David gently rested his chin atop her head and murmured. His voice was low, but in the wind and snow of this night, Mary heard it clearly. She instinctively lifted her head to look at him.

David leaned down and kissed the corner of her lips that had turned cold, then tenderly cupped her ear with his large hand. "Let’s get in the car," he said softly.

Mary didn’t refuse. She followed him into the vehicle.

The car didn’t stop at all this time, heading straight towards the hotel. Originally, Mary had planned to confess to David about her marriage to Lambert Norman in the M Kingdom. But the atmosphere that night was too perfect, so perfect it left her longing. The words lingering on the tip of her tongue were swallowed back. She let David hold her hand the entire drive, his thumb occasionally brushing over her fingers.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Mary noticed a crowd of people gathering at the entrance. Previously relaxed against David, she quickly sat upright. "What’s happening outside?"

Martin immediately called the hotel to inquire, and shortly after, he reported back, "It’s journalists who got wind of your arrival, along with fans of Adam Piers and Zoe Thatcher."

"Does the hotel have a back exit?" David frowned and asked.

As Martin was about to negotiate with the hotel, Simon Baker’s call came through first. After answering, Martin turned to brief them, "Director Locke, ma’am, Director Baker said that both the front and back entrances are blocked by reporters and fans. He has booked a new hotel for you temporarily. The coordinates will be sent over shortly. Your luggage will be delivered by Mia Anderson tomorrow."

David nodded. "Let’s go with that for now."

By the time they were settled into the new hotel, it was already eleven o’clock. Mary quickly showered, but with her hair still damp, she fell asleep slumped against the bed’s headboard.

When David finished freshening up and came out, he saw the exhausted girl fast asleep. He gently propped her up, carefully dried her half-damp hair, tucked the blanket around her, and then left the bedroom.

As soon as he stepped out of the room, the man whose expression had been tender moments ago grew cold and severe. Martin, who had just returned after grabbing a quick bite, instantly felt a headache upon catching sight of David’s face and greeted him tentatively, "Director Locke."

David cast a frosty gaze at Martin. "How’s it coming along?"

"Charlotte Leigh’s situation is irreparable. Duke Blue is trickier—he’s fled to the M Kingdom for now and can’t be retrieved immediately. However, with Charlotte’s fall, financial support for Blue will become unsustainable. With how extravagantly he spends, he won’t last long in the M Kingdom." Martin promptly reported their findings.

David’s expression remained grim. "And the police investigation?"

"That Mile insists it was an accident. It’s difficult to get him to talk. However, surveillance footage captured some of his actions. Once Master Brandon and Zoe wake up, it should be straightforward to press charges. Still, Duke Blue personally stayed out of the fray. If we pursue it, at best, it’ll pull his assistant down." Martin explained, though there was a hint of resignation in his tone.

Of course, he knew that while legal action might not touch Duke Blue, David Locke certainly wouldn’t let him off the hook.

In fact, compared to David’s methods, Duke Blue should rather pray for legal punishment.

"Send me his rise-to-fame records. The more detailed, the better." David instructed curtly.

Martin inwardly sighed, realizing his hunch had been correct. Yet, without hesitation, he swiftly sent over Duke Blue’s dossier to David.

David scanned through the information quickly, then looked up. "Track his movements and send them to Jerry Entertainment’s former president."

Martin was momentarily stunned but quickly recalled that Jerry Entertainment’s former president was infamous for his twisted tastes and unique proclivities, targeting both men and women. This individual had ruined numerous artists before fleeing to the M Kingdom after being exposed. It seemed there had been some entanglement with Duke Blue in the past. If Duke Blue’s whereabouts were handed to him...

Oh boy. Martin inwardly clicked his tongue. This move of David Locke’s—using one knife to cut another—was as ruthless as ever.

He had no doubt that Duke Blue was in for a miserable fate.

After that, shifting focus back, David’s gaze darkened slightly. "By the way, Lambert Norman has also relocated to this hotel. What have you dug up about him?"

Compared to the others, Lambert posed the real headache for David. "Director Locke, Mr. Norman is notoriously secretive. All we’ve managed to uncover so far is that he’s an American citizen, moved with his family to the M Kingdom during high school, had a prior marriage—but even his wife’s details are more obscured than his. No one has seen her. His appearance on the reality show ’Detectives and Wilderness’ is his first public reappearance since returning to the country."

"A prior marriage?" David grabbed onto this detail, his brows drawing together in a shallow frown.

"Yes, and the wife is extremely mysterious—but it’s true." Martin muttered, almost under his breath.

David nodded, a bit of the tension spurred forth by Lambert’s presence beginning to ease. If Lambert was already married, he had no right meddling with Mary. As for why Lambert’s background was so meticulously concealed, David could wager a guess or two.

When the Scott family fell into ruin, the Normans weren’t completely uninvolved. The difference was that, unlike the Scotts, the Normans had managed to extricate themselves—escaping the repercussions by emigrating with their entire family.

"We’re leaving for Swallow City tomorrow. Go rest." With the necessary questions addressed, David finally dismissed Martin.

Martin, feeling like he’d been granted amnesty, quickly retreated.

Once alone, David didn’t head to bed immediately. With the filming of his movie starting in a month, there was still much pre-production work to oversee. The unfinished meetings from earlier that morning remained to be resumed.

By the time David finished, it was 3 a.m. From the hotel, one could see the towering silhouette of West Mountain through the floor-to-ceiling windows—a gray, looming presence in the deep hours of the night. Lost in thought, David stood staring at the landscape for a few moments before remembering he wasn’t in Swallow City. Rubbing his temples, he turned and made his way to the suite’s bedroom.

Having been on the move for two days, Mary was sound asleep. She hadn’t moved an inch since David left, her peaceful expression soft and endearing. Yet, her eyes were still red from crying earlier and the wind had only exacerbated her swollen eyelids—making her look pitifully vulnerable.

David stood beside her silently for a while before shrugging off his outer coat and lying down on the edge of the bed.

His body was still cold, so he kept a slight distance from Mary. Yet, as if sensing his presence, she suddenly rolled over, snuggling directly into his arms.

David froze for a moment, then broke into a silent smile. He placed one arm around her, pulling her closer, and reached over to switch off the bedside lamp with the other.

...

At the hospital lobby.

Bertha Swift was so cold she could barely feel her limbs. She knew the northwest region was chilly, but she hadn’t anticipated it being this frigid. Despite wearing what she’d considered to be a thick coat, drafts seeped in from every direction in the gloomy hospital lobby, leaving her shivering uncontrollably. Beside her, Maria White wasn’t faring any better.

Bertha suppressed the sound of her chattering teeth as she glanced at the younger woman. "How is it?"

"I found it—on the top floor of the inpatient wing. But there are guards; we can’t get in." Maria replied, her voice trembling.

Bertha frowned. "If he’s safe, let’s just leave."

"What? No! I have to see for myself that Master Piers is alright." Maria was unwilling to leave empty-handed after coming all this way—not knowing Adam’s condition or even getting a glimpse of him.

Thinking back to the program team’s statement they had seen upon landing, and seeing the deserted hospital lobby now, Bertha hesitated. "Isn’t this a bit much? The program organizers already announced they had been rescued. They wouldn’t lie."

Truth be told, from the moment they’d read the statement, Bertha had regretted everything leading to this point. She didn’t understand what insanity had overcome her, allowing Maria to drag her all the way to West Mountain. Whatever issues Adam Piers had, what did those have to do with her?

Yet despite the rational voice in her head, she found herself swept along anyway—blindly letting Maria pull her, first to the production team’s hotel, then, finding no answers there, following some unsubstantiated tip to one of West Mountain’s shabby hospitals. Now, curled up freezing in the middle of nowhere, Bertha truly wanted to curse her own foolishness. Deep down, she had strong suspicions that Adam might have been whisked to Swallow City aboard Master Brandon’s private jet.

But watching Maria, freezing yet dogged in her search, and then considering her own predicament, she couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud.

Maria, oblivious to Bertha’s inner turmoil, stomped her numbing feet and spoke through chattering teeth. "The production team is the least reliable! Here’s an idea—we split up to look. Even if we can’t find Master Piers’ room, at least we can move somewhere warmer. If we stay here, we’ll freeze to death in this wretched hospital. Plus, don’t you think this place feels... creepy? You know the rumors about hospitals being places where people pass between life and death—who knows how many people die here daily? No wonder it feels so chilling..."

Despite the freezing air, Maria shuddered even more after her ominous remarks. She quickly concluded, "Alright, let’s head to the inpatient wing. There are more people over there at night."

Bertha had initially only felt cold, but Maria’s words brought an eerie chill to her heart as well. Though Bertha was a medical student and had worked as an intern in hospitals, she had never spent the dead of night in one—a place so deathly quiet, freezing to the bone, and completely deserted except for faint whispers of the wind. Spooked, she swallowed hard and turned to follow Maria.

The realization that Maria had seemingly vanished sank in moments later, leaving Bertha frozen in place. Where did she go?

Her racing heartbeat was only amplified by the fierce wind howling against the hospital’s cheap, poorly insulated windows, sounding like the wails of an angry spirit. Goosebumps erupted across her skin, and in a surge of panic, Bertha sprinted towards the direction Maria had gone moments prior.

Bertha wasn’t familiar with this hospital, but hospitals in general followed a consistent layout. Relying on what knowledge she’d gleaned during her medical internships, she eventually found the inpatient wing. Recalling Maria’s earlier words about Adam being on the top floor, she estimated Maria’s likely path and raced to the sixth floor.

It was labeled the top floor, but the building only had six levels. After circling the corridors and failing to find Maria anywhere, Bertha noticed two guards sleeping slouched near the nurses’ station. The nurse on duty appeared to be asleep in her office as well. This atmosphere, coupled with Maria’s earlier claim, suggested there was truth to the claim that Adam Piers might indeed be on this floor.

Unlike Maria, however, Bertha had no delusions of grandeur about seeking justice for Adam Piers. All she felt at the moment was exhaustion. At this point, she wanted nothing more than to disappear. The man’s attitude in the past had already made things abundantly clear—there was nothing between them anymore. If word got out that she had shown up at his hospital room late at night, she’d become a laughingstock.

With that bitter awareness settling in, Bertha turned hastily towards the stairwell, desperate to leave. However, just as she passed a certain room, a hoarse voice suddenly called out from within. Stopping in her tracks, she hesitated, caught between curiosity and self-preservation.

The door to the room wasn’t completely shut. Frozen in place, Bertha soon caught fragments of the voice within—the repeated plea for "Water... water..."

Glancing quickly back at the nurse’s station, Bertha saw the two guards still snoring deeply. The nurse’s office door remained closed. Her lips parted as though to speak, but no sound came. Pausing for a heartbeat, she gritted her teeth, intent on walking away. Yet the moment her foot was about to step forward, she turned back instead, pushing the door open.

Inside the dim room, a man lay on the bed, his eyes shut tightly. Yet he continued to murmur weakly for water. His throat sounded parched and raw. Even in the poor lighting, Bertha could see the overly pale complexion of his face. This wasn’t the Adam Piers she had known.

The usual dandy and slovenly air—gone. No arrogance, no slyness. The man lying here looked merely like a sick and weary mortal, frail and entirely ordinary. He appeared pale and depleted in ways she had never encountered before. free𝑤ebnovel.com

She’d convinced herself over and over again that she hated him. Yet here, in the cold confines of a humble countryside hospital’s unassuming room, Bertha couldn’t even identify her own heart’s direction anymore. A bitter smile tugged at her lips. Was she a masochist?

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