The first day of the trip passed in a blur of exhaustion and long hours on the road. It was exactly what one would expect from a budget tour. They had only visited the Colosseum, and the rest of the afternoon was spent shuffling between various shopping stops. The people on the tour were less than pleased, but there was little Mr. Anderson could do—it was the company’s itinerary. At this price, visiting too many tourist spots would have put the travel agency out of business. By the time they returned to the hotel, it was already past 11 p.m. Mr. Anderson, after seeing all the elderly tourists safely to their rooms, collapsed onto a sofa in the lobby, thoroughly exhausted. As Emily passed by the front desk, the receptionist called out to her. “Miss Carter, there’s a package here for you.” “A package?” “Yes,” the receptionist replied, handing over a slim envelope. “It was delivered this afternoon. Since you weren’t here, we signed for it. Please check for any damage.” The packaging was intact, and the envelope was thin—just a few sheets of paper inside. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” Emily walked her uncle Bert back to his room first, then returned to her own in room 2307. The room was exactly as she had left it. Sitting down on the sofa, she carefully opened the envelope. Inside were several sheets of A4 paper, one of which bore an official seal. Upon closer inspection, it was an offer letter, accompanied by additional documents outlining the job’s details. The offer was from the same British real estate company that Emily had mentioned to Amy earlier, the one she had been most satisfied with. It was a major firm, backed by powerful investors, and had ambitious strategic goals. It was a perfect fit for a young architect like Emily, who was eager to make her mark. And the salary they offered was nothing short of impressive—€3 million per year. In the field of architecture, this was a top-tier salary, typically reserved for only the most renowned senior architects. The offer was clearly a statement of intent. Emily called Amy back. “Did you reply to Stardream Group yet?”Amy sounded confused. “No, not yet. Do you need me to send a reply now?” It was already past midnight. “No, it’s fine. Get some rest. Good night.” Still puzzled, Amy hung up. Emily stared at the offer letter in her hand, lost in thought. If Amy hadn’t sent a reply, then the fact that Stardream Group had proactively sent her an offer, and with such an incredible salary, meant only one thing—they’d had their eyes on her for quite some time. In a way, it was a good thing. She liked the company, and they clearly liked her. It seemed like a perfect match. The next morning, Emily received a phone call from Stardream Group. The voice on the other end was polite and professional. “Good morning, Miss Carter. Apologies for disturbing you. This is the President’s Office at Stardream Group.” Emily paused for a moment, glancing at the caller ID. Sure enough, it was a British number. “Yes, this is Miranda.” “Good morning, Miss Carter. I’m calling to confirm that we’ve sent an offer letter to your hotel. Did you receive it?” “Yes, I did,” Emily replied. “But I was wondering—how did your company get my hotel address and phone number?” “Oh, we contacted the organizers of the Pritzker Prize. They provided your details.” Emily remembered the form she had filled out before the award ceremony. It had included her contact information, including her hotel address. Satisfied with the explanation, she felt more at ease. Privacy was taken very seriously in the UK, and she doubted there would be any kind of data breach like she’d seen happen in other places. “Our president holds you in very high regard, Miss Carter, and we would love to have you join our company. If the salary isn’t satisfactory, we’re open to negotiations, and other benefits can be discussed as well. If you’re available, we’d love to invite you to our office to talk in person.” Emily thought for a moment. “I’m dealing with some personal matters at the moment. The earliest I could return to the UK would be next week.” “Understood. Would next Monday at 2 p.m. work for you?”Emily checked her schedule and nodded. “Yes, that works.” “Great. We look forward to meeting you then.” “Likewise.” She had barely hung up the phone when it rang again. Was there something else they needed to discuss? “Hello? This is Miranda…” “I know who you are,” Jackson grumbled. “Come open the door. I’ve got dumplings for you, and they’re scorching hot. Ran halfway across town to get them.” Jackson? Emily jumped up and hurried to the door. Jackson stood there, wearing his usual camel-colored coat, looking travel-worn but determined, holding several takeout boxes in his hands. He stepped into the room. “Miss Carter, it’s practically noon. Why are you still in bed? Eat, sleep, repeat—are you trying to live like a pig?” Emily quickly gathered the scattered documents from the coffee table to make space for him. “Careful, don’t burn yourself.” Jackson glanced at the papers in her hand. “Offer? From which company?” “… Stardream.” “The one in the UK?” Jackson sat down on the sofa, patting the spot next to him for Emily to join him. “Stardream’s a good choice. You’ve been in the UK for three years now, so you’re familiar with it. But their market is small. If you join them, you’ll likely be traveling all over the world.” That didn’t worry Emily, though. She had other concerns. “Jackson…” She hesitated. Had he already forgotten what happened just two days ago, in this very room? She had turned him down, but here he was, acting like nothing had happened, casually dropping by with dumplings. Jackson gave her a playful look. “I called you a pig, but you’re still overthinking things. What, did you expect me to never talk to you again just because I got rejected? That’s not how life works, you know. I’ve been through worse. You still had Vincent Norman around then; now you’re just with your uncle! It’s not like I’ve lost all chances. Why should I give up?” ... He did have a point.“When are you planning to start?” Jackson asked. “Next Monday,” Emily replied. “I’ll head to the airport with my uncle over the weekend. He’s flying back to New York, and I’m heading to London.”