After finishing middle school, Byron dropped out and returned home. His mother had tried to insist that he attend high school in town, but ultimately, her wishes couldn’t compete with the will of the family’s patriarch. In the end, Byron stayed behind, tending sheep and feeding pigs on their small farm.

Ivy smiled and nodded. “Yes, that’s right. Ivy.”

“Okay, I… I’ll remember that.” Byron tapped his own head, grinning sheepishly, his smile even more earnest than before. “Well, I should get going…”

“Alright, goodbye.”

Ivy waved at him, though she knew, deep down, that the two of them would probably never cross paths again.

She would never return to this place.

But what Ivy never imagined, not even in her dreams, was that her story with Byron—Silly, as everyone called him—was far from over.

Three years later, Byron found work at a factory in town. In his spare time, he encountered a computer for the first time.

Slowly, he caught up with the times, learning to surf the web like the city folks did, and even set up a social media account.

With painstaking effort, Byron tapped away at the keyboard, letter by letter, recording everything he had witnessed and endured in his mountain village—the heartbreaking stories of women and children being trafficked. He wrote it as a piece of nonfiction and posted it online.

At first, no one paid attention. But gradually, his posts attracted more and more readers, until his account started gaining real influence.

He was overjoyed when, through the friend who had helped him land his job, he managed to get in touch with Ivy again.

Ivy was deeply shaken after reading his account. She believed that stories like these needed to be told, to warn others and prevent further tragedies.

She reached out to a publishing house, and soon, the book was released. It became a sensation.

Thanks to the success, Byron received a substantial royalty payment and caught the attention of the media.

By that time, his father had already died of illness in prison.

Byron lived with his frail, aging mother. Life was hard, but at least it was peaceful.

His fame as a writer with cerebral palsy spread across the Internet. Knowing the regret in his mother’s heart, Byron used his newfound influence to ask the media to help post a notice, hoping to find his mother’s long-lost family.

No one had really believed that, after more than thirty years, they would ever find her relatives.

But, as it turned out, the army of online sleuths rivaled Sherlock Holmes himself—just a few months later, they actually tracked down Byron’s maternal relatives.

Sadly, his grandparents had already passed away, but there was still an older sister and a younger brother.

After more than thirty years, the family was reunited across mountains and oceans. The moment was so moving that several media outlets came to cover it. Watching through her screen, Ivy wiped away tears, overcome with emotion.

By the time Ivy left the village office, it was already afternoon.

After her tears, she felt lighter, as though the weight on her heart had been washed away.

Jamison had stayed quietly by her side the whole time.

When they got into the car, and he saw that her color had returned, he reached over and gently squeezed her hand. “Feeling any better now?”

Ivy nodded, then suddenly remembered Jamison’s injury.

She turned, concern etched on her face. “What about you? Does your wound still hurt? Can you manage?”

A faint smirk played at Jamison’s lips. “So you finally remember to worry about me.”

Ivy flushed, embarrassed.

But as she looked at him more closely, she frowned. Something seemed off—his face was a little too red.

She reached out and took his hand: sure enough, his skin was warm, almost hot.

Chapter 344

“Are you running a fever?” Ivy gasped, quickly turning to press her palm to his forehead, then touched her own for comparison. The difference was obvious.

“You didn’t realize you were burning up?” she asked anxiously.

Jamison leaned back, exhaustion in his eyes. “I’m a doctor. Of course I knew.”

But when she was falling apart, he hadn’t had time to think about himself.

Looking at his face, Ivy understood immediately.