Norton Academy, a prestigious institution for the countrys elite youth, was home to two types of individuals: genuine prodigies and blue-blooded aristocrats. Eliza Doolittle, once a member of the latter group, had transformed into the former within a mere three months.
Exiting her vehicle, she greeted Charles Bingley and made her way towards the school gates, her presence causing murmurs and curious glances from her peers. Unfazed, Eliza offered a warm smile to those around her, her demeanor as soothing as the spring sun after a gentle rain.
As she entered her A-class classroom, the usual commotion came to an abrupt halt, as if time itself stood still. Students and teachers alike were captivated by her porcelain features and pure, radiant aura. It took a few moments for the collective breath to be released, and as the students and teachers regained their composure, their eyes shone with newfound respect and admiration.
“Eliza.”
“Lizzy.”
She responded to each greeting with a smile, placing her bag in her locker and取出 her morning reading materials. Indeed, three months were all it took to win over her classmates, who had once looked down on her, with both her academic achievements and her conduct. What might have been dismissed as a fluke during the first month exam had now become a undeniable fact: Eliza Doolittle was a top contender in the academy.
The morning reading session proceeded smoothly, with all eyes occasionally drawn to Eliza. Even the teachers treated her with a distinct deference, often seeking her input on challenging problems.
“Miss Doolittle, do you have any thoughts on this problem?”
Eliza would stand, articulate her solution with clarity, and the class would nod in understanding. Her teachers would express their satisfaction, commenting on her perfection.
With a shy smile, she would dim the flames of jealousy that flickered in the hearts of some, making them reflect on their own petty thoughts.
After school, as she made her way home, greetings followed her like a gentle breeze. Once inside the car, the concern from Charles Bingley was palpable.
“Miss, is your studies very taxing?”
“Not at all, it’s a journey one must persist with,” Eliza replied, her eyes as bright as crystal, despite the fatigue that tugged at the corners.
Compared to the boundless darkness she had faced, such hard work brought a sense of joy.
Charles filled the car with Eliza’s favorite music, doing his best to drive smoothly.
Back home, Margaret Hale greeted her daughter with open arms, her eyes brimming with pride.
“How was your day, dear?”
“Quite well,” Eliza handed her bag to a maid and turned to her mother, inquiring with a filial smile, “Was your day trying as well, Mother?”
The Doolittle family’s businesses, though nominally passed down to Andrew Doolittle, were in fact managed by the strong-willed Margaret. She thrived on it, seemingly oblivious to the domineering nature her role as a businesswoman imposed.
“It was indeed. The managers are so thoughtless...” came the inevitable complaint, to which Eliza responded with a patient, supportive daughter’s smile, leading her mother to the sofa to lend a sympathetic ear.
“By the way, how was your monthly exam this week?”
The sudden change of topic was expected, and Eliza nodded confidently, “I believe I did well.”
“Wonderful. You must come in first again this time.”
Though she had expressed concern for her daughter’s late studies that very morning, the demand for excellence remained firm.
This was Margaret’s vanity at its core: once the top spot had been achieved, it must be maintained to secure so-called maternal affection. It was, indeed, a profitable exchange. Eliza smiled and agreed.
“Of course, I am your top daughter.”
“You’re truly the best, just like your mother,” Margaret’s mood improved even more, stroking her daughter’s smooth cheek.
“I knew my Lizzy was the best. By the way, I have a charity event tomorrow. I’ll be visiting the Heartwarming Orphanage, so I won’t be having breakfast at home.”
Heartwarming—Orphanage?
The name struck a chord with Eliza, her eyes brightening with recognition.
How familiar, her sister had not yet approached her under the guise of blood donation; she must have used another means to enter the Doolittle household. It was no coincidence that a charity event would be scheduled at the Heartwarming Orphanage.
Eliza tilted her head, her gaze falling softly on her mother.
“Mother works too hard, you must rest early tonight.”
Her concern for her mother only served to increase Margaret’s satisfaction. Ever since the accident, her daughter, who had once been so disobedient, had become the apple of her eye, truly showing a great deal of understanding overnight.
After dinner, and exchanging goodnight wishes with her parents who verbally expressed their care, Eliza retired to her room. Once inside, her lips curled into a mysterious arc, her eyes burning with fervor as if she had found something deeply intriguing. Her appearance, however, remained gentle and enchanting, albeit with a hint of fanaticism.
Isabelle... Raised in the Heartwarming Orphanage from a young age, known as the most obedient girl with a doll-like cuteness.
It was unexpected how soon her mother would visit the orphanage again.