Serve No One This Life (Angela and Jonathan)
Chapter 12

Angela had only one major class in the afternoon. After finishing her class, Angela planned to go straight home. Although she now had a place to live, she didn't have much money on her. The Kins Family believed that as long as they provided her with food and she didn't starve, she should be grateful. Angela left the school gate and waited for the bus while opening her phone. Out of habit, she wanted to go online and check if there were any part-time jobs on the app. But when she opened her phone, she felt a bit frustrated. It wasn't a smartphone, so she couldn't really replace any jobs with apps. She could only make calls and send text messages.

After a while, a black sedan suddenly stopped in front of her. Subconsciously, she looked into the car and saw the back window slowly rolling down, revealing a man's deep and three-dimensional face. His expression was as cold and indifferent as always, exuding an air of nobility untainted by the mundane world. Jonathan glanced at Angela and said slowly, "Get in the car." Angela was stunned for a moment, not understanding what he meant. The man frowned and said in a low voice, "There's blood on your skirt." Upon hearing this, Angela immediately blushed, anxiously looking behind her. Sure enough, there was a small red mark on the back of her blue skirt. Although it was already September, the weather was still hot, and this was the only skirt she had. Embarrassed and angry, Angela covered the red mark on her skirt with one hand, but unfortunately, Jonathan saw it. She felt so embarrassed that she wanted to disappear on the spot. "Get in the car!"

Jonathan's cold voice came again. At this moment, the driver's door opened, and Sebastian, the driver, got out of the car. He smiled kindly and opened the back door, gesturing for her to get in. After thinking fo a moment, Angela didn't want to be overly shy and got into the car, feeling embarrassed. But in her current situation, she didn't dare to sit on the seat, afraid of dirtying it. Angela lowered her head and could only squat down, looking like a helpless little creature. Sebastian closed the car door and sat in the front driver's seat. He turned his head and asked Angela, "Miss, where do you live?" "In the military district compound, on Northcity Avenue," Angela answered cautiously, not knowing where to put her hands and feet due to the embarrassment. Jonathan looked coolly at the crouching Angela and asked, "Isn't it uncomfortable to squat like this?" "It's not uncomfortable. It's fine..." Before she could finish her sentence, Angela, due to nervousness, hit her head on the car roof, causing her pain and making her too afraid to make a sound.

The rebuttal came too quickly, and she felt a bit awkward, burying her head even lower, not daring to breathe loudly. Jonathan pursed his thin lips into a straight line, glanced at her, took off his suit jacket, and threw it onto the nearby seat. "Use this as a cushion." Angela widened her eyes in surprise, her fan-like eyelashes trembling. This suit obviously had a high price tag. She had to figure out how to afford her meals now, so how could she dare to use such an expensive suit as a makeshift cushion? She couldn't afford it. Seemingly aware of her thoughts, Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I need to extort money from a student like you?" Well... Angela accepted it, thanked him, and then carefully stood up and sat in that spot. The car sped along the road, and to avoid awkwardness, Angela kept her gaze fixed or the window. The bright car window reflected Jonathan's profile: handsome and unparalleled, clean, and clear, all while still exuding the maturity of a man. How could such an outstanding person die two years later? It was such a pity. Soon, the car stopped at an intersection. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, thanked them, and immediately jumped out of the car. For some reason, Sebastian also opened the car door and called her back. Sebastian hesitated briefly before finally asking, "Miss, have you always lived in the military zone?

Are you familiar with an elderly woman named Charlotte?" Upon hearing this name, Angela raised her gaze with curiosity. "You know my grandmother?" "Is she your grandmother? Can you tell me where she is now?" Sebastian's voice carried a hint of excitement. Angela nodded, but her expression turned somewhat sad. “My grandmother passed away three years ago." Sebastian seemed to have a hard time accepting this news, disappointment filling his face. Sebastian wanted to say something else, but in the end, he chose not to. He smiled kindly and said, "We arrived too late. Alright, young lady, you may go upstairs." Angela nodded, turned around, and walked back, her mind filled with speculation. Was Sebastian looking for my grandmother because of Jonathan's illness? In my previous life, did Jonathan die because they couldn't replace my grandmother? Before she took a few steps, a hurried voice came from the car. "Master Jonathan, what's wrong?" "The medicine, where is it?" Sebastian anxiously searched through the car's storage compartment. He distinctly remembered placing spare medicine there, so why couldn't he replace it? Angela's footsteps paused, and she quickly ran back, opened the car door, and got in. She saw Jonathan with a pained expression, his brows tightly furrowed, his face as pale as paper, and cold sweat seeping from his forehead. With one hand supporting his head, the veins on his neck were pulsating. Jonathan fell ill?

Angela was startled by this scene and instinctively reached out to feel his pulse. A few seconds later, Angela pursed her lips, roughly understanding Jonathan's condition, along with the scent of herbal medicine emanating from his body. There was the aroma of magnolia bark, Centralis fungi, and diazepam. And these were all herbs used to treat insomnia, excessive dreaming, and mental weakness. Especially diazepam. Its use indicated that the situation was already very serious. Long-term sleep disorders would make a person irritable and mentally exhausted. Treating it as a simple sleep problem would be futile. Instead, with the passage of time, it would only worsen. Jonathan opened his eyes, his black pupils as cold as ice, with a crimson tint at the corners. He gasped and turned his head, his face shrouded in darkness. With great effort, he managed to utter a few words, "Please keep your distance from me!"