I Married the President-Chapter 60: Of All Virtues, Filial Piety Is Foremost

He didn’t answer directly, but the implication was obvious.

Melanie Sinclair was going mad with jealousy, but she quickly found a way to rationalize it. ’Hmph. She only got where she is by sleeping her way into Young Master Quincy’s bed. Trash is trash. What else can she do besides seduce men?’

’A useless piece of trash like Claire Sinclair, with no real talent, will definitely be tossed aside by Young Master Quincy soon enough.’

’And they call her "Young Madam." Pah!’

...

Once in the car, Claire held her mother’s memorial tablet, her head bowed in silence.

Adrian Quincy drove in silence. There was so much he wanted to say, but seeing the look on her face, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.

Half an hour later, the car arrived at Evergreen Garden.

Claire wanted to open the car door, but the moment her hand touched the handle, she flinched back in pain and had to switch to her other hand.

Just as she was about to open it, the door suddenly swung open.

Adrian Quincy was standing outside, holding the door open for her. "Out you go."

Claire shot him a strange look. ’He actually stooped to opening the car door for me? Has he lost his mind?’

After getting out of the car, Claire walked to the front door by herself and was about to look for her keys.

Adrian beat her to it, pulling out a key. He unlocked the door but didn’t go in immediately, instead gesturing for her to enter first.

An indescribable feeling washed over Claire. She stepped into the house, her first thought being to find a suitable place for her mother’s memorial tablet.

’But where would be an appropriate place to put it?’

As if reading her mind, Adrian said in a deep voice, "There’s a spare room on the second floor. You can put it there for now. I’ll have someone come and renovate it tomorrow."

"Would that be alright?"

Claire felt a little awkward. Some people couldn’t stand having objects related to the deceased in their homes, especially when they belonged to the wife’s family.

Adrian replied in his deep voice, "Filial piety is the greatest of virtues. Let me handle it."

"I want to do it myself."

"Don’t push yourself. Give it to me." The man firmly took the memorial tablet from her and turned to go upstairs.

Claire tried to follow him, but the slightest movement of her waist sent a wave of excruciating pain through her. She had no choice but to collapse onto the sofa to rest.

She carefully raised a hand and touched the sore spot on her back. Just a light touch almost made her pass out from the pain.

’But at least... I’ll never have to go back to that place again. No one will be there to hurt me, and I’ll no longer have to endure my family’s abuse. I’m finally, finally free.’

A short while later, Adrian came downstairs carrying a first-aid kit.

Remembering the last time he’d applied ointment for her—which had involved her pants—Claire’s face instantly flushed crimson. "Um, I can put the ointment on myself."

"How are you going to reach your own back?"

"..."

Claire had no comeback.

Adrian came and sat down beside her, commanding, "Turn around. Take off your shirt."

Claire didn’t move. It was just too humiliating. She couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Seeing she remained motionless, Adrian took matters into his own hands. He turned her around to face away from him. "I won’t look at your front. Go on, take it off."

Claire hesitated for a long time, but realizing she couldn’t possibly treat her own back, she finally gave in and obediently pulled off her shirt.

Across the girl’s fair back stretched a dark red bruise, a full twenty centimeters long. The sight was like a thorn stabbing into Adrian’s heart, leaving him stunned and unsure of what to do.

His hand trembled slightly. When it came to touching her wound, he hesitated, unable to bring himself to press down, terrified of hurting her further.

To ease her pain, Adrian tried to distract her with conversation. "Did your father... hit you like this before?"