Although Elsie shooed Elvis away in a hurry, Elvis was the type to stick closer than a shadow, with a skin thicker than the earth itself.


    Yet, he didn''t bother her, merely standing at a distance, silently observing.


    He watched Elsie working alongside the cafeteriadies, preparing a massive pot


    of stew. Despite her slender and delicate frame, she stirred the giant ck cauldron with ease, seemingly without breaking a sweat.


    She picked vegetables, washed them, chopped them - all with a skilled and efficient grace, without a hint of pretension or shyness, as if it was something she had been doing her whole life.


    Elvis, with his arms crossed, found himself increasingly captivated.


    Elsie was busy to the point of perspiration, a few strands of hair sticking to her cheeks, presenting a somewhat disheveled appearance.


    Yet, to him, she was breathtakingly beautiful at that moment.


    Although every time they met, she was like a delicate, wless piece of art, capturing the gaze of men and stealing hearts,


    This time, she was even more beautiful than ever, for she was brimming with life and authenticity.


    When it was time for dinner at the orphanage, Elvis, as a "friend" of Elsie, had the privilege of staying and sharing the meal with the children.


    Elsie and the other two teachers lined up, serving the kids their meals.


    "Thank you, Ms. Archer."


    The children''s voices were crisp and filled withughter.


    Elsie responded warmly, her hands never stopping.


    After a while, her long eyshes fluttered, and she paused, spoon in mid-air, as she looked up in surprise-


    Elvis was standing there properly, holding his te with eager eyes that met her shocked gaze. He smiled broadly,


    "Ms. Archer, I''d love some, heap it high, please."


    Elsie''s heart fluttered, and she bit her lower lip shyly, unsure of what to do next.


    Meanwhile, the teachers nearby glimpsed her blushing face and shared knowing smiles.


    "Let''s hurry and leave after dinner," Elsie whispered, her voice so low that only they could hear.


    But her spoon didn''t hesitate to fill his te to the brim.


    "I might take a little longer to eat all this. Besides,"


    Elvis leaned slightly forward, his gaze sparkling, "It''s not easy to see you. How could I leave without taking my time to admire you?"


    It was another one of his charming, flirtatious lines.


    Each time, Elsie''s heart raced, but she immediately forced herself to stay lucid, not to hope, and not to fall deeper.


    Because it was impossible, because she wasn''t worthy, because there was no future.


    Her origins as an orphan, raised by Avery, her body abused and mistreated by countless men.


    And her beautiful face, which only made her feel more insecure.


    She didn''t believe that Elvis could have genuine feelings for someone who bore the face of his own sister, someone seen as a pitiable and cheap substitute...


    In the afternoon, as the children went to their sses or naps, Elsie was in theundry room, sitting on a small stool, her delicate hands soaking in warm water, washing the children''s clothes.


    "Why not use a washing machine? This must be exhausting."


    She lifted her face to look at the man standing before her, then lowered her head again to focus on her task,


    "The kids'' clothes get very dirty, and machines don''t clean them well enough. I have to wash the extremely dirty ones by hand. The children here don''t have family to care for them, and the teachers can''t keep up, so I help with what I can. You, living a life of luxury, wouldn''t understand."


    "Hey, how could I not understand? I used to wash my little sister''s clothes and undergarments by hand."


    Elvis pulled up a chair to sit opposite her, shedding his coat and rolling up the sleeves of his ck shirt to reveal forearms taut withtent strength.


    "You washed them yourself? But your family must have had plenty of servants." Elsie''s eyes widened, incredulous.


    "For my own sister, of course, I had to take care of her. No one else was allowed to touch her," Elvis said with pride.


    Elvis skillfully took up a wet garment and began to scrub.


    A formidable agent, now showing a domestic side.


    Elsie''s voice carried a hint of teasing, "That''s kind of weird."


    Elvis'' handsome face darkened, "That''s called being devoted to my sister. You wouldn''t understand."


    But it wasn''t just because of that.


    Before their mother passed away, she had gathered her four sons and urged them


    to do everything in their power to take good care of their sister.


    "Don''t cry, don''t feel like I''m gone."


    "I''ll be watching over you from heaven, protecting you."


    Lost in thought, Elvis felt a lump in his throat and his eyes reddened slightly.


    "That''s nice."


    Elsie gazed at the reflection in the water that resembled Evadne, her heart tightening before quickly covering the reflection with a piece of clothing, "Ms. Evadne is truly fortunate."


    Same face, different fates.


    Evadne was the cherished rose, pampered and adored. She was just a puppet, manipted by others, despite sharing the same face.


    Avery, with his wild fantasies, thought of using her as a substitute.


    He really was a madman with a wild imagination.


    "Ms. Archer, what about you and your family?"


    As Elvis continued washing, he casually asked, "You spent all these years with Avery. Didn''t your family ever worry about what kind of life you were leading?"


    "I''m an orphan, raised in an orphanage. I have no parents, and even this name was given to me by Avery." Elsie''s voice was calm, her eyes devoid of emotion. Elvis smirked, "No wonder, you''re here volunteering. Trying to relive your childhood memories?"


    "Relive what?"


    Elsie chuckled, dismissively, "Relive how I was beaten, scolded, or starved for days on end?"


    Elvis'' heart skipped a beat, and he looked up at her in shock.


    "Not all orphanages are sanctuaries for children. Some can be hell on earth."


    Elsie''s hands were red from the washing, her voice soft as a feather, "In a way, I have to thank Mr. Chambers. If he hadn''t rescued me on that cold, hungry night, I might have died on the streets. It was he who took me in, allowing me to live until today."


    But what she didn''t say was that Avery had not led her to salvation.


    He had introduced her to a hell far worse than being beaten, scolded, or starved.


    "In the world of women, you indeed have an incredibly strong psyche." Elvis tried to look nonchnt as he wrung out his shirt, "If I were in their shoes, left with such a deep scar, I might never set foot in this ce again." "But there''s a saying, right? ''It''s because you''ve walked through the rain, that you want to hold the umbre for someone else.'' It''s precisely because I''ve suffered in ces like this, endured hardships, that I don''t want to see the kids here go down the same path. Seeing their happy faces truly fills me with joy." Elsie''s smile was as warm as the spring sun, her words heartfelt.


    Elvis'' lips pressed into a thin line, deeply moved.


    He knew, she wasn''t just helping the kids. She was healing herself, patching up the scars of her own troubled childhood.


    "Ms. Archer." At that moment, a teacher approached the door. "Could you pleasee here for a moment?"


    "I''ll be right there."


    Elsie quickly stood, wiped her hands dry with her jacket, and hurried off.


    Just then, Elvis heard a soft "clink."


    A silver objecty glinting in the afternoon sun.


    Elvis moved closer and bent down slowly to pick up the pendant Elsie had


    dropped.


    Squinting in the sunlight, he carefully examined it.


    Click-


    The round pendant popped open, revealing the unfamiliar face of a young girl.


    Her youthful and delicate features silently struck a chord in his heart.