My Child and I Married a Billionaire

After practically scrambling up the mountain for over two hours, Cecelia Archer finally reached the summit a step ahead of Damien Vaughn.

Looking up, a magnificent temple appeared before her.

An antique plaque was painted with two large, gilded words: Harmony Church.

’Didn’t he say he had work to do at the summit?’

’Don’t tell me he came to burn incense and pray?’

Cecelia Archer stood her ground, waiting to see what kind of stunt Damien Vaughn was about to pull.

After a two-hour climb, the only change in Damien Vaughn was that he had unzipped his down jacket. It was as if climbing a mountain like this was no different than a walk on flat ground for him.

He breezed past Cecelia Archer with a relaxed expression and, sure enough, entered the temple.

After exchanging a few words with the monk at the entrance, he dropped a few red banknotes into the Merit Box and came out holding two handfuls of incense sticks.

"I heard this temple is really effective—any wish you make will come true. Want to join me?"

Cecelia Archer nearly choked.

’He tricked me into climbing this high up a mountain so early in the morning under the guise of work, all just to watch! Him! Offer! Incense!’

’He’s a modern, independent man, a highly educated scholar with a master’s degree, and he still believes in this nonsense?’

Although Cecelia Archer didn’t believe in it and really wanted to roast him, she subconsciously knew not to say anything disrespectful in a temple and swallowed her dissatisfaction.

A large deity statue stood in the center of the prayer hall, and the incense burner was full of ash.

Damien Vaughn walked over and began to light the incense.

Watching his tall, straight back and his somewhat pious expression, Cecelia Archer found herself uncontrollably following him inside.

’Well, I’m already here. I’ve been climbing for ages. Can’t let it be for nothing.’

’Better safe than sorry. I might as well pray too.’

She took half the incense sticks from Damien Vaughn’s hand. The two of them knelt on separate prayer cushions, each praying for their own wishes. In a few moments, the ritual was over.

Outside the prayer hall, Damien Vaughn glanced at Cecelia Archer and said quietly,

"Alright, you’re free to go."

Then he started down the steps of the mountain.

Cecelia Archer was about to lose her mind.

’People really shouldn’t have too much free time. It drives them crazy... I’d better find a way to keep President Vaughn busy.’

Without the urgency of the ascent, and with the expansive view from the top, going downhill should have been a pleasure.

But Cecelia Archer hardly ever climbed mountains, and her knees weren’t used to this kind of exercise.

She could manage the ascent by gritting her teeth, but the descent was a disaster.

Her legs were trembling so badly they felt like jelly. With every step, her body pitched forward. The steps were steep, and she had a fear of heights to begin with. She was drenched in sweat after less than ten minutes.

Damien Vaughn wasn’t faring much better.

His legs were simply too long. The steps were an awkward height—taking them one at a time bent his knees uncomfortably, but taking them two at a time, while fine on the way up, made it hard to control his momentum on the way down. Besides, it looked ridiculous...

After suffering in silence for a while, as if by telepathy, they both turned to look at each other at the same time.

In the interest of getting down the mountain alive, Cecelia Archer took the initiative and moved to his side.

"I’ll walk with you."

’That way, if her legs gave out and she accidentally fell, Damien Vaughn could catch her in time.’

As soon as she finished speaking, Damien Vaughn pulled her in front of him. Cecelia Archer was one step below him, and he rested his hands on her shoulders.

"If you want to walk with me, you’ll have to be my crutch. Let’s go."

Cecelia Archer: "..."

She would take a step down, and Damien Vaughn would follow.

Although her legs were still weak, being held back by his weight made the feeling of pitching forward disappear. It was much more comfortable.

Likewise, Damien Vaughn felt much more comfortable too—though not physically.

Another day passed. The floodwaters had completely receded. Through Damien Vaughn’s coordination with the local authorities, they began post-disaster reconstruction efforts immediately.

Busy times fly by, and in the blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve.

It was impossible to finish rebuilding the houses and move in by the New Year, so everyone was destined to celebrate together. The village school was temporarily converted into housing.

Damien Vaughn took the male subordinates and villagers out to work, while Cecelia Archer and a group of women were assigned to stay behind to do laundry and cook.

It was like returning to a time of traditional gender roles where men tilled and women weaved. Everyone had their own duties, and the communal living was lively and cheerful.

The sky gets dark especially fast in winter, particularly in the mountains. With no streetlights, it was impossible to work past five in the afternoon.

When everyone returned, the New Year’s Eve dinner wasn’t ready yet.

With nothing to do, the young men from the engineering department crowded into the kitchen to chat with Cecelia Archer and watch her work.

Cecelia Archer had been assigned the task of making dumplings and had just finished rolling out the wrappers. Seeing that everyone was idle, she called them over to help.

Everyone swarmed out to wash their hands. They had just sat back down when Damien Vaughn walked in.

"President Vaughn."

"President Vaughn."

Everyone quickly stood up again.

Even though he was doing the same manual labor and wearing the same clothes as them, it was as if Damien Vaughn had been given special treatment. He was spotless, still as noble and elegant as ever.

His jacket sleeves were rolled up, revealing a pair of strong forearms. He waved at everyone, gesturing for them to sit, and surveyed the kitchen with a gentle expression.

"Getting ready to make dumplings?"

"Yes, President Vaughn. We were bored anyway, and making dumplings together is a fun way to liven things up. Do you want to help out too?"

With so many people crowded in here, the messy conditions, and the damp kitchen air, Cecelia Archer thought there was no way he would agree. But as it turned out—

President Vaughn, a man who had never set foot in a kitchen and whose hands had never known a day of housework, agreed in a heartbeat.

"Sure. I’ll go wash my hands."

By the time he returned from washing his hands, the spot in the very center had been saved for him.

Damien Vaughn went and sat down next to Cecelia Archer. Everyone eagerly started showing him what to do.

Damien Vaughn tried making a couple, and they turned out quite well.

Everyone showered him with praise: "President Vaughn, you’re so smart and so good with your hands. Your dumplings look beautiful."

"I think they’re pretty good, too."

Damien Vaughn suddenly acted like a kindergartener, looking at the dumpling in his palm with a satisfied expression.

"Who can help me take a picture?"

’It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever made a dumpling. I feel like I should commemorate this.’

"Me! Me! Me!"

Everyone quickly pulled out their phones.

"President Vaughn, smile!"

"President Vaughn, want to make a peace sign?"

Seeing that everyone was about to take pictures, Cecelia Archer quickly pretended to grab something and dodged to the side.

Damien Vaughn was in a great mood. He held the dumpling in one hand and gave a thumbs-up to the camera with the other.

They showed him the photos, showering him with more praise: "President Vaughn, you’re so incredibly photogenic! You look so handsome even in a casual shot. You should post it on social media!"

’Cecelia isn’t in the picture. When did she move to the side?’

Damien Vaughn glanced back at Cecelia Archer, who was pretending to be busy but was actually avoiding him on purpose. He frowned.

"Alright. Let’s all take one together."

"President Linden, come on, could you take the picture for us?"

"President Linden, set a timer! We’ll save a spot for you, come join us!"

Cecelia Archer was about to say she was fine, but Damien Vaughn spoke up in a low voice.

"This is a Vaughn Group photo. We can talk about it when President Linden decides to join the Vaughn Group."

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