"Don't let uncle give me a house... and don't give me any expensive gifts. I don't really have any use for them."

Julian Grant responded with a couple of "mm-hmm"s, while tidying up the suitcase, his mind occupied with something far more important.

He had bought a few gifts, secretly tucked away in the corners of his luggage, each one carefully selected.

His plan was perfect. Every morning, upon waking up, he would give The Vault a low-key yet luxurious gift, and when The Vault was moved, he would give a gentle kiss. Once The Vault gradually let down his guard, he would have his mom drop some hints to help nudge things toward marriage. That way, if it didn't work out, The Vault would at least understand his intentions. And if it did work out... well, need he say more?

Julian Grant was quite pleased with his plan, but perhaps due to lack of rest in the previous days, he slept deeply once he finally relaxed. The next morning, by the time he woke up, The Vault was already gone from the room.

The romantic scene he had imagined—waking up at dawn and putting a gemstone necklace on The Vault—never happened.

He hadn't even started, and he'd already failed.

Annoyed, Julian Grant climbed out of bed, rummaged through the nightstand for the gift box containing the necklace, stuffed it in his pocket, and went to look for The Vault, hoping to make up for it.

He jogged down the hallway to the first floor, calling out The Vault's name. As he turned into the living room, he was stunned by the unfamiliar scene before him.

The once-empty living room was now packed with all sorts of things: formal dresses, coats, rows of shoes, and all kinds of jewelry and necklaces.

The clothes were all the latest arrivals, and the jewelry was Mrs. Grant's treasured collection from over the years.

Julian Grant looked at the priceless, intricately crafted piece in Mrs. Grant's hand, then felt the jewelry box in his own pocket, his voice trembling.

"...Mom?"

Mrs. Grant looked up at his words, beaming, "You're up? Go find something to eat yourself. Oh, wait, do you think The Vault looks better in this sapphire necklace, or this diamond one?"

The Vault stood there numbly, her expression a mix of forced cheerfulness and barely-held-together resolve.

Julian Grant suddenly understood.

—He'd miscalculated!

With three people in the family all loaded, someone else had beaten him to it!

Julian Grant strode forward and said, "Mom, stop trying to win over The Vault with money. She's not the type who cares about that. If you keep giving her things like this, she might not even be happy."

Mrs. Grant belatedly felt a bit embarrassed. "It's just that I haven't been a mom in so long, I'm a little out of practice."

Julian Grant: "??" So after I grew up, I'm not your son anymore?

Mrs. Grant held The Vault's hand, her face so gentle it was impossible to blame her. "Sweetheart, do you think I'm being annoying?"

Of course, The Vault said, "No, I'm actually quite happy."

Mrs. Grant, reassured—whether it was out of politeness or sincerity—immediately perked up again. "That's good, then let's just pick a couple fewer things. How about we pick one for New Year's Eve first?"

·

Julian Grant still didn't manage to give his gift, mainly because, after seeing the comparison, he felt embarrassed to give it. As a result, he was a bit downcast for the next few days. Even though he tried hard to hide it, The Vault still noticed.

In the end, it was The Vault herself who discovered Julian Grant's little secret in the nightstand. She even saw the date and message he'd written on the card inside, which made her both amused and touched.

She quietly put everything back, and only took them out again on New Year's Day.

Julian Grant was waiting in the living room. When The Vault came out after changing, he went over and took her arm. At first, he didn't notice, but then, looking more closely, he realized The Vault was wearing the earrings he had picked, the necklace he had picked, and the diamond hairpin he had picked.

His eyes widened, so surprised he couldn't form words. "You, you, you..."

The Vault smiled, "What about me?"

Julian Grant took a deep breath, finally calming himself. He gave The Vault a big kiss on the cheek, his eyes overflowing with joy. "You look beautiful."

Author's note:

Spring Festival extra—end

Extra: Harry Forrest 01

8:25 AM, Trident headquarters.

The Vault arrived punctually outside the designated game room, just about to enter, when she saw Harry Forrest walking over from a distance.

She deliberately waited at the door, and as Harry Forrest passed by, she greeted him.

The Vault smiled, "How's work going?"

Harry Forrest pressed the button on his chest, took off his suit jacket, let out a breath, and smiled, "Not bad."

His department was in charge of technical support, filled with young people passionate about their work but not very skilled at handling complex social situations. Everyone was simple and a bit silly, exuding a goofy vibe every day.

Harry Forrest was still in the learning phase, gradually getting involved in Trident's business and corporate culture under his colleagues' guidance... Though he felt the corporate culture was unnecessary—those people were so wild they'd even write fanfiction about their young boss in the backend, disguise it as spam, and send it to the boss's account, just for the thrill of dancing on a knife's edge.

Harry Forrest really enjoyed this kind of life, but at the same time, he was hesitant. He didn't know if he should tell his teacher that every day, she was starring in melodramatic romance dramas inside the brains of Trident's staff.

#Cold and Ruthless Overlord VS Affectionate Puppy Husband#, #Golden Genius Brain VS World's Richest Person#, #Passionate CEO: Genius Wife, Don't Run#, #Beautiful Lady: There's No Man I Can't Handle#... and other such ridiculous things.

Harry Forrest looked deeply at The Vault, and decided to forget it.

No need to pollute her world.

The Vault caught the flash of complexity on his face, a bit puzzled, so she changed the subject, "Are you nervous?"

Harry Forrest didn't answer, just lowered his head slightly.

The murder case scenario that Trident had been developing for so long was finally about to enter public beta, and the protagonist was Harry Forrest himself. For him to return to the scene of those years and face the predicament head-on was perhaps a cruel challenge. But the pain of being wrongfully accused was deeply etched in his soul, the source of all subsequent tragedies. He had fantasized countless times about what would have happened if he could have walked out of the detention center back then.

Such fantasies were useless.

But, aside from himself, no one could help him walk out of that past.

"It's nothing." Harry Forrest looked up and smiled lightly. "It's all in the past."

But The Vault was very serious: "I'll bring you out of it."

·

Welcome, player, to the fully immersive live simulation game [Crime Scene Analysis] (special limited-time scenario). Your chosen role is [Investigator]. All case-related memories have been locked. Please use the available clues to find the real culprit and reconstruct the scenario.

Role: QC (You are now a public official.)

Player rating: 97 (You've beaten 99% of players nationwide!)

Character fit: 100% (As long as you don't tarnish the profession's image, you can play yourself without restriction.)

Story progress: 50% (You've caught a suspect who looks very suspicious.)

[Note] This game is auto-generated based on big data and criminal records. Please carefully distinguish the clues that appear in the game.

The familiar transition fog shrouded The Vault's vision. Her mind went blank for a moment, unable to function right away—clearly, a lot of memories had been blocked this time. She frowned, adjusted to the feeling, quickly skimmed the scenario introduction, and then closed the interface.

The scene gradually became clear, revealing her surroundings.

She was sitting behind a desk, sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating the whiteboard in front of her. There were a dozen photos pinned to it, with all sorts of dense connections—obviously, a meeting had just ended, wrapping up the case summary.

The Vault lowered her head and flipped through the open notebook on the desk, following the contents.

Before long, there was a knock at the door.

The person knocked politely twice, but didn't wait for her response before coming in.

The Vault recognized Julian Grant, pointed to the chair opposite, and gestured for him to sit.

Even though nothing had happened yet, the livestream chat in The Vault's room was already buzzing. To be precise, the viewers had been overexcited for a long time—before The Vault had even officially logged in, they'd already flooded the comment section.

A quick glance showed it was basically a massive, shameless family reunion.

"Here you are! The Vault daddy, I've been waiting for you for so long, why are you only showing up now? Your long-lost son is already an adult—if you keep neglecting me, I won't recognize you anymore, okay?"

"Wife, if you don't show up soon, I won't be able to afford raising our kids. Look, the kids we have could form a whole country. [Moved]"

"Thinking of you for 365 days!"

"My daughter isn't a newbie anymore, right? Why is this inspector still following her?"

"I knew this inspector was always using his position for personal gain—turns out I was right."

"Looks like three generations of The Vault's family have gathered in the comment section."