Skip to content
Novel Catalog
Chapter 11: She Will Beg Them in the Future
Yvette’s voice was soft, almost too gentle, as she spoke. “Wynter, I’m sorry for my mom’s behavior. Since you don’t want the money, maybe it’s best to stay away from the Yates family from now on.”
She paused for effect, her gaze never meeting Wynter’s. “You seem like you can handle yourself, but Mom’s pushy ways might bruise your ego more than help.”
Her words, delivered with such grace, caused those around them to glance from Yvette to Wynter, noting the stark contrast between the two women. Yvette appeared kind-hearted, well-mannered—an embodiment of civility—while Wynter, in their eyes, seemed to take advantage of the situation and show nothing but disdain.
A few people in the crowd behind Hilda shook their heads in disapproval.
Wynter, however, simply smiled lightly, as though she understood exactly what was happening. Yvette, on the other hand, couldn’t bring herself to meet Wynter’s gaze. There was something about her behavior today that unsettled her.
Was it because the Yates family had pushed Wynter aside? Was she bitter and seeking revenge?
Just three months ago, Wynter had been obedient and subdued, but now, she acted as if nothing mattered—speaking freely, without the restraint she’d once shown.
Yvette frowned. What did Wynter expect from the Yates family? They’d taken care of her for over a decade. Did she really consider herself an heir to the family now? How could she possibly believe that?
Despite her feelings of guilt, Yvette couldn’t shake the thought that Wynter had lost her mind. Still, she kept her composure and spoke in a voice that could almost be described as comforting. “You know, Yve’s right,” she said sweetly. “Sometimes people from small towns, like yourself, can be a little too sensitive. You might not always recognize the good intentions of others.”
Hilda, who had been silently observing the exchange, chimed in with a smile. “Exactly. Psychology studies show that young people, especially those from rural areas, often struggle with understanding others’ intentions. They’re more concerned about public opinion and sometimes misjudge what’s offered to them.”
She turned to Wynter, her tone softening as if she were offering advice. “You’ve come to the city now. Let go of past grievances and take a moment to truly see what’s around you. There’s so much to learn.”
Wynter listened with amusement, her lips curving into a smile. Then, almost out of nowhere, she asked an unexpected question. “Are you the Madam Gibson who claims to cure all diseases?”
Hilda stiffened, taken aback by the question. “Yes, that’s me. Why do you ask?”
Wynter’s voice remained calm, her tone casual, though her words were sharp. “I’d suggest you be careful. Misjudging others is one thing, but failing to properly educate your students and letting them treat people recklessly? That’s a far bigger issue.”
She paused, letting her words settle before adding, “Right near the traffic lights, one of your students is still kneeling. Would you care to take a look?”
Hilda’s expression faltered. “No, my student wouldn’t…” she began, but before she could finish, a young man, dressed in medical student attire, came rushing over in a panic.
“Madam Gibson! It’s bad! Luke… he’s kneeling in the street and can’t get up!”
The color drained from Hilda’s face. The elegance she had been radiating moments before vanished, leaving an awkward silence in its place.
Hilda, clearly flustered, turned and headed toward the traffic lights without a word. Her dignified composure was shattered, her face now a mix of disbelief and embarrassment. As she left, she shot Wynter an enigmatic look—as if accusing her of harboring some grudge.
Wynter, however, paid her no mind. She knew exactly what had been happening behind the scenes. Hilda, from the Gibson family, had long been exploiting the practice of medicine for fame and profit. Her students? Utterly unqualified. If Wynter hadn’t stepped in, the Gibson family would have continued to tarnish her reputation with their mediocrity.
As she watched Hilda’s retreating figure, a quiet thought formed in Wynter’s mind: It was time for a replacement. Someone more competent, more capable, would soon take the Gibson family’s place in her world.
Meanwhile, Wanda, who had been observing the entire exchange, couldn’t help but feel a small spark of amusement at Wynter’s audacity. This girl, who had never left the countryside, had no idea just how insignificant she was without the Yates family’s support.
Now, she had gone and offended Madam Gibson, someone with considerable power in Southdale.
Wanda couldn’t stop herself from smiling inwardly. Wynter will need to beg them for help one day, she thought. Mark my words.
