Rebirth of the Wife in Despair

Chapter 163 Anything Else

Amidst the enchanting backdrop of Moulmore, Remdik, Elm shared glimpses of his solitary journey, capturing the ethereal beauty of the aurora and a charming selfie with a reindeer.

Dressed in a black storm suit, his hooded coat adorned with strands of hair dusted with Blake frost. Elm’s images elicited a gentle smile from Eileen.

Her gratitude flowed through a message: It’s beautiful. Thank you.

Thank you for experiencing these sights on my behalf.

In the distant reaches of Moulmore, Elm traversed the icy landscape alone, his tent emitting. wisps of smoke against the harsh winter backdrop.

Despite a significant fifteen-hour time difference between Remdik and his home country, Elm remained unperturbed as he embarked on a solitary journey. Along the way, he crossed paths with other travelers who were also reveling in their holiday adventures.

A voice in Remdikian called out from behind, “Elm, it’s time to eat.”

Seeing the reply he got from Eileen, Elm chose not to respond. Instead, he stored away his phone and exited the extended tent.

On the eve of New Year’s Eve, the company granted everyone time off, and Eric and Vera were busy decorating the residence with red lights that adorned the glass windows, swiftly infusing the home with a festive atmosphere.

Sharon, having injured her waist, returned from the hospital to the Swan residence just in time for the New Year, although Eileen wasn’t sure how long she would stay this time.

Enjoying a rare day off at home, Eileen didn’t want to waste her time. With a bag on her back, she descended from upstairs.

Sharon emerged from the kitchen, saying, “The New Year is almost here; where are you planning to go?”

“I’m going to the library to borrow some materials.”

“We’re on holiday; why are you still studying? Take a good rest at home. I’ve made some brownies; they’ll be ready soon.”

Just then, another voice rang out. “Ms. Eileen, there’s a letter for you in the mailbox!” A housekeeper held a thick stack of envelopes. “In this day and age, it’s strange that people still send letters, especially all the way from Remdik.”

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When she heard the housekeeper’s words, the first person that came to Eileen’s mind was Elm.

Eileen accepted the letter, unfolding its contents, as Eric and Vera returned with their shopping spoils, each carrying two large bags in their hands.

the housekeeper

nodded, his gaze directed at the individuals

already had a sense

his way of returning the favor? Or perhaps a New Year’s

then, Sharon emerged from the kitchen, cradling a tray of freshly-baked brownies. “Mr.

so much? We can’t possibly consume

brought a cup of warm milk and sandwiches to the person lounging on the couch. “What are you looking at, Ms. Eileen?

Eileen responded. Every picture Elm had sent

delicately unsealed the envelopes, ensuring the seals remained intact. Inside, nearly a hundred photos awaited, along with a USB drive tucked within

drawn to

“What’s Eileen looking

a letter from a friend. I recall that Eileen has a friend with the last name Smith,” Sharon

it’s Elm? I remember, he participated in this year’s winter camp, held

shifted her gaze toward Eric,

shoulder. “Inform Father,” she stated, “I have my final piano

Eileen, won’t you have your

I won’t; don’t bother preparing then in the future.” She took a bite of her sandwich and left the house with those words.

realization that Eric had been drugging her milk for five years cast

the car, she headed to the

swiped her identification card, found a computer, and eagerly connected her USB

folder, unveiling a video that

from Hulbury to Musbane, spanning over seven thousand

laugh escaped Eileen’s lips, accompanied by a stirring emotion that warmed

sleeper berth by the train’s window captured the most enchanting vistas along the journey. While the train swiftly traversed these fleeting landscapes, Elm skillfully slowed down the frames, allowing her to savor every

Eileen found herself

I could see it for myself

in the afternoon, Eileen, emerging from the library, chose to

call promptly. “What is it, Ms. Eileen?

it, and I appreciate it. The photos you captured

the other end, reminiscent of just waking up, responded indifferently, “Mmm, got it,” before adding, “Anything else? I’m about to sleep

see the original footage? The unedited version,”

nonchalance, Elm replied, “So many requests, not happening! Goodbye.” The call concluded

moment to

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