Landon was carried onto the car and transported back home.
Household staff tended to him diligently, placing him on the bed, summoning a doctor to reset his dislocated wrists, and periodically checking if he'd awakened with food.
Landon kept his eyes shut.
Until the staff grew worried and quietly entered his room, startled by what they found.
Landon, eyes open, stared blankly at the ceiling.
His face lacked any color, pale as a corpse.
The staff jumped, regaining composure after a moment, timidly asking, "Mr. Rhodes?"
Landon didn't seem to hear, giving no response.
The staff exchanged glances, sighing helplessly.
Who could blame Landon for ending up like this?
Landon spoke for the first time a day later.
"Steward, return that money to Penelope."
With Creations in turmoil, Rhodes would see relief. He wouldn't keep a penny of it.
Hearing Landon spoke, the steward relieved and promptly agreed, casually asking, "Sir, would you like to eat something? Food is essential, you haven't eaten in a day."
Landon fell silent again.
For three days, the mansion was eerily quiet.
Landon lay in bed, sometimes staring at the ceiling all night, unblinking. His gaze was haunting under moonlight.
Other times, tears would silently soak his pillow, more than half of which was wet.
Rumors spread that Landon had lost his mind over love.
He truly woke when his assistant came to give a routine work update, despite Landon never responding before.
This time, he suddenly sat up.
The assistant mentioned, "Sir, there's a philanthropist event for African children, focusing on medical aid and education..."
Just hearing this, Landon sat bolt upright, his body still stiff, but his eyes gradually regained life.
The assistant jumped, "Sir? Are you interested in this project?"
But with Rhodes just stabilizing, there was likely no interest in such charity events.
The assistant dared not say so, afraid to push Landon back into his shell now that he was "alive" again.
"Yes," Landon rasped, "Go to the company now. I want to learn about this event."
For three days, Amber's face and words echoed in his mind.
He had been avoiding Sunny. He knew that as long as Amber lived, he had a chance to make amends, to beg for forgiveness, to mend some of the damage he'd done.
But not for Sunny. Sunny was gone forever.
He could never undo the harm he'd done to Sunny...
Even if Amber forgave him, Sunny wouldn't.
Sunny would never forgive this uncapable father!
So, when he heard of this event, he instinctively thought of helpless Sunny.
The child on a deathbed, whom he refused to look at more than once, was of his own bloodline.
If there were more children like Sunny in the world, he would do his best to help, as if to assuage his own conscience.
Back at the company, the decisive Mr. Landon returned...
