<h4>Chapter 435: The Pitiful Woman</h4>


    Room 909.


    Mrs. Harris was feeding E soup, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at E’s much thinner face.


    "Young Mistress, take care of your health. You’ll have more children in the future," she said softly.


    E gave a faint hum, saying nothing. Despite her illness, she remained calm andposed, though a faint trace of worry lingered in her expression.


    Her hand gently rested on her abdomen. After nearly twenty days in the hospital, she couldn’t help but wonder how much the world outside had changed.


    "Young Mistress, there are rumors outside that you and the Young Master are divorcing, but... I don’t believe it! Tell me, is it true?" Mrs. Harris asked hesitantly after E had finished the bowl of soup.


    E smiled faintly. Though herplexion was pale, her demeanor remained serene. "Mrs. Harris, when did you start enjoying gossip? The Young Master and I have always had a strong rtionship."


    Mrs. Harris looked at E, half-believing, half-doubting. Her expression showed no trace of pretense.


    But... people outside were iming she had a brain tumor. Looking at her current appearance, Mrs. Harris couldn’t deny that she didn’t look as vibrant as before.


    Still, Mrs. Harris found the rumors puzzling. It was normal for a woman who had just miscarried to look unwell. Why were people spreading such malicious lies?


    "I trust you, Young Mistress! You’ll live to be a hundred, I’m sure of it!" Mrs. Harris said reassuringly.


    "You must be joking. Living a few more years with a brain tumor is already quite good," a casual voice interjected. It was the nurse who hade in to check on E.


    This nurse was the same one who had previously "identally" brought up Tiffany to E.


    Though she was an actual nurse at the hospital, she had grown brazen after seeing E’s declining situation. Her wordscked any tact or concern now that Lucas and Luke had urgently left Country S, possibly due to issues with theirpany in Country W.


    With Eric and E supposedly divorced, the nurse felt an unrestrained sense of schadenfreude.


    "How can you talk like that? What kind of nurse are you? Do you think it’s your job to provoke a patient?" Mrs. Harris snapped, her temper ring.


    Mia stood to the side, silently watching.


    "What’s wrong with me being a nurse? I’m just speaking the truth," the nurse retorted smugly.


    "Oh, how are there so many people in this world who don’t know when to keep their mouths shut? Is this the level of professionalism it takes to be a nurse?" Mia sneered, rolling up her sleeves as if preparing for a fight.


    The nurse’s face flushed red, then pale. "You..."


    "Get out!" E’s expression turned stern. "A nurse like you, shouting and making a scene here—I have every right to file aint!"


    The nurse was stunned, staring at E. Normally, E didn’t say much, and rumors about her being a formidable figure seemed like exaggerations.


    But today, the nurse suddenly realized she might have picked the wrong person to mess with.


    Humiliated, the nurse slinked out of the room.


    Mrs. Harris wiped her tears again.


    E gently patted her hand. "Go take some food to the Young Master and see how he’s doing," she said softly.


    Mrs. Harris nodded quickly and left.


    Eric hadn’t been home in days.


    He had been living at the office, unreachable by reporters. It was as though he had disappeared from the world, leaving no trace.


    When Mrs. Harris arrived at LXL with food, she found Eric buried in an overwhelming pile of documents, not even looking up.


    "Young Master, I brought your meal," she said softly.


    "Thank you, Mrs. Harris," Eric replied tly without ncing up.


    Mrs. Harris looked at Eric’s weary face, her heart aching for him. "Young Master, why don’t you go visit E? She’s so bored in the hospital."


    Even now, Mrs. Harris refused to believe the rumors outside. She couldn’t ept that they were divorced.


    Eric didn’t respond, his focus entirely on flipping through the stack of documents before him.


    Mrs. Harris let out a quiet sigh. "Young Master, don’t be angry with her. She just had a miscarriage—how can she bear it alone?"


    Eric’s cold, detached eyes finally lifted to meet hers. "You’ve seen her?"


    "Yes."


    "How is she?" he asked, his tone still distant.


    "She’s doing fine... but I think she’s in a lot of pain," Mrs. Harris said urgently, her eyes pleading. "You’ve been married for so many years. Please don’t stay angry."


    "If she’s doing fine, then it doesn’t matter whether I visit or not, does it?" Eric’s voice was as cold as a winter’s frost.


    Mrs. Harris stared at him, stunned. He had always been gentle and kind before—how could he have changed so drastically? Did this mean the rumors about their divorce were true?


    "Young Mistress is so pitiful..." she murmured, her voice breaking.


    "Mrs. Harris," Eric interrupted, his tone softening slightly but still firm, "please leave after delivering the meal. I have too much work to do, and I hope you understand."


    Seeing that he wouldn’t be persuaded, Mrs. Harris could only leave in tears.


    Eric was the kind of man who, once he made up his mind, no one could change it.


    Despite the endless rumors swirling online, life carried on.


    Eric remained buried in work. The sharp decline in stock prices meant even more issues to resolve, and there was no end to his daily workload.


    Another two weeks passed.


    Eric never appeared at E’s hospital room again.


    By now, no one thought the rumors of their divorce were untrue. Lucas and Luke remained in Country W, leaving E to fend for herself. If even her biological father had abandoned her, how could anyone expect Eric to return?


    Still, E was well taken care of by Mia, Mrs. Harris, and a newly assigned private nurse who almost never left her side.


    Some people asionally spotted E on the balcony overlooking the hospital garden. She would sit quietly, knitting sweaters and baby clothes.


    No one could clearly see her face, though—no one was allowed to get close.


    But her behavior, to others, seemed all too predictable.


    After all, a woman who had miscarried, was facing death, and had been abandoned would naturally copse emotionally. Perhaps she was simply lost in her own world, knitting baby items as if living in a delusion.


    One day, Mia helped E out of her room to take a short walk.


    Eventually, E sat down on a bench in the corridor and said softly, "Mia, can you call Eric? Ask him when he’lle to see me."


    Mia froze for a moment. E hadn’t mentioned Eric once in the past days, so it was clear she couldn’t hold it in any longer.


    "Alright, wait a moment." Mia dialed Eric’s number, but his response was curt and cold before he hung up.


    Mia’s face turned ashen. "E... he said he’s busy and doesn’t have time to see you."


    E’s pale face lit up with a faint, bittersweet smile. "That’s fine. I’ll just wait a little longer."


    Mia remained silent as she helped E back to her room.


    From a distance, several nurses who had been watching the exchange shook their heads in pity.


    "She’s so pitiful—miscarried, diagnosed with cancer, and even Eric abandoned her."


    "Yeah, how can a woman be so strong?"


    "She’s probably gone mad. She’s living in a delusion and won’t ept that they’re divorced."


    "That’s what I think too. Even her own father hasn’te back for her. Poor woman. Judging by herplexion, she probably doesn’t have much time left."