The next day, a Saturday, Amelia Clarke finished a ten-hour promotional activity and rushed to tutor a rich family's child.
By the time she finished, it was already nine-thirty in the evening.
The tutoring took place in a villa district midway up South Hill in the suburbs; this district, named South Hill Villa, was a well-known gathering spot for the wealthy. Anyone who lived there was either rich or prestigious, travelled in cars, and hence there was no public transport. Amelia couldn't bring herself to take a cab due to the cost, so she had to walk up and down the mountain road for an hour. However, the pay was quite generous.
The wide mountain road was so deserted that there weren't even any pedestrians, let alone vehicles.
Shadows of trees loomed on both sides, and the wind howled. It was also a winter night, cold and eerie, but the streetlights were bright.
Pocketing the money she earned from tutoring, Amelia felt a pleasant cheerfulness. She was teaching a middle school student who had improved by thirteen ranks in a recent exam. The student's mother was so pleased that she gave Amelia some extra money as a reward. Amelia didn't feign refusal, gratefully accepting it. With the money she had saved up from before, she could send remittance home tomorrow.
The more she earned, the less she owed Isaac Taylor.
As she was thinking this, a dark figure suddenly shot out from the trees on the left and lunged at her. Acting on instinct, Amelia dodged, only to slip on the downward slope, tumbling uncontrollably downhill.
A monkey chattered as it climbed up the rocks on the right and leapt away.
After rolling a considerable distance, and when Amelia somehow managed to steady herself, her head was spinning. Just then, a car came driving down from above. She was right at a bend where the driver's vision was limited and couldn't see Amelia until they were almost upon her. The sound of the car engine was within arm's reach, and Amelia, startled, rolled on the spot, barely avoiding being crushed by the vehicle.
After the sounds of an emergency brake.
"Miss, are you all right?"
Amelia sat up with lingering fear, not feeling any pain but relieved to have survived the close call.
Someone asked from above, and she just stiffly shook her head.
"Miss Clarke? Why is it you?" The person exclaimed in surprise.
Amelia froze momentarily.
Looking up, she saw Benjamin Richardson's chubby face.
"What are you doing here?" Benjamin asked again.
"The student I tutor lives in the villa area up there."
Many college students tutored to earn living expenses, so Benjamin nodded, understanding, but then...
"Are you sure you're all right? Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
Amelia steadied herself against the nearby rock wall and stood up, moving a little. She felt some pain only in her knees and elbows, probably from rolling downhill.
"I'm not..." she began, intending to say she was fine, but another person got out of the car, and upon seeing him, the rest of her words stuck in her throat.
Benjamin immediately stepped aside respectfully, "Mr. Moreland."
Amelia stood quietly, her head slightly lowered, as the cold night wind blew, flicking the loose strands of hair by her ear.
Under the streetlight's yellow glow, the view showed a red mark on her right earlobe about the size of a small fingernail—the shape of a regular 'heart' with distinct edges and a hollow center, as if drawn by a 0.5mm red pen. It was conspicuous against her fair skin, resembling an exquisite tattoo.
Owen Moreland casually shifted his gaze away.
"Get in the car, we're going to the hospital," he ordered.
Amelia reflexively refused, "I'm fine, there's no need to trouble you..."
Owen just quietly watched her, and her words gradually trailed off.
His presence was overpowering, making it impossible to contend with his words, without him saying or doing anything.
Amelia inwardly scorned her own lack of backbone and followed Owen into the car.
By the time they arrived at the hospital, half an hour had passed.
After a thorough examination, as she expected, she only had some bruises on her knees and elbows but nothing serious.
The doctor disinfected the wounds and applied medication for her.
After leaving the hospital.
"Thank you, Mr. Moreland, goodbye." After expressing her thanks, Amelia Clarke tactfully walked towards the nearby bus stop.
It was already past ten, and there were not many people at the bus stop. She had only been standing there for a moment when a silver-gray Volkswagen stopped in front of her, with a man inside sporting a flaxen-colored mohawk hairstyle and dressed very punk.
"Beautiful, where are you heading? Let big brother give you a ride."
Amelia Clarke often encountered such situations and was used to it by now, shaking her head expressionlessly.
The man with the mohawk was not deterred; he opened his car door, stepped out, and approached her, his boldness amplified by the lack of people around.
Amelia Clarke stood still, her elegant eyebrows slightly furrowed, "What do you want to do?"
The mohawk man sized her up from head to toe, his gaze finally lingering greedily on her face, "Sister, big brother is a good guy, just wants to make friends with you." As he spoke, he raised his hand to cheekily touch her chin.
Amelia Clarke's expression chilled, she grabbed the mohawk man's wrist in one swift move, twisted it forcefully, and with a 'crack,' the man let out a scream like a pig being slaughtered.
Not far away, inside the car, Owen Moreland's mouth was curved in a sly, almost-smiling arc.
"Mr. Moreland, should we go over and help? Someone is trying to harass Miss Clarke." Benjamin Richardson was somewhat anxious.
Owen Moreland glanced at him side-eye, "Do you think she needs you to save her?"
"Uh..." Benjamin Richardson found himself speechless; it seemed she didn't need help.
"Drive over there," Owen Moreland ordered indifferently.
Benjamin Richardson hesitated for a moment, "But doesn't Miss Clarke not need our help?"
Owen Moreland didn't answer, merely glanced at Benjamin Richardson with an impassive look.
Benjamin Richardson's scalp tingled, and he quickly stepped on the accelerator to drive towards Amelia Clarke.
Amelia Clarke let go of the mohawk man's hand and then pushed him backwards, "Scram!"
The mohawk man, subdued by a girl and with his pride dented, couldn't just walk away in humiliation and yet couldn't accept it either. Enduring the pain in his hand, he viciously lunged forward, trying to grab Amelia Clarke. He refused to believe he couldn't overpower a mere girl!
Amelia Clarke's eyes darkened.
Her brother had intellectual disabilities and had been bullied by other children since he was young. She was only two years older than him and fought almost every day to protect him. At first, of course, she would lose. They had greater numbers. But gradually, she became more agile, and she could take down five or six boys bigger than herself at once.
So, dealing with a mohawk man was a breeze for her.
She was about to make her move...
"Miss Clarke," someone called out to her loudly.
The approaching mohawk man paused in his tracks, turned his head, and saw a Black Phantom parked in front of his Volkswagen.
"Miss Clarke, get in. I'll give you a ride home since it's on the way," Benjamin Richardson said, glancing at the twisted wrist of the mohawk man and suddenly feeling a twinge in his own.
His view of Amelia Clarke changed: he hadn't expected the seemingly gentle girl to have such strong combat capabilities.
All the windows of the Black Phantom were down, and Amelia Clarke glanced at Owen Moreland sitting in the back seat, who was focused on the laptop screen on his lap, seemingly oblivious to the outside world.
After a moment's thought, she stepped forward, opened the copilot's door, and got in.
The windows of the Black Phantom slowly rolled up, and the car drove away.
Behind the car, the mohawk man held his injured wrist, staring in the direction the Phantom drove off, cursing under his breath as he got into the Volkswagen.
The Black Phantom cruised on the wide roads of Capital City.
Amelia Clarke stared at the road ahead, with Owen Moreland behind her. Even though he hadn't done anything, she still felt a nagging tension, as if she was on tenterhooks.
Oddly, he had helped her again.
Why? She couldn't figure it out.