The Billionaire Who Saved Me - Chapter 36: Chapter 36

Nadia was usually a woman of few words, but now she was nagging. I knew she meant well, so I bundled myself up tightly and headed out.
My bodyguard was waiting outside the door. He froze for a moment upon seeing me, then fought back a smile and asked, "Madam, where are we going now?"
I replied, "Ashvale Home for Children."
He nodded. "Got it."
The car drove toward the orphanage. A gentle breeze drifted through the open windows, softly brushing against my face, soothing and comfortable.
Following Nadia's instructions, the bodyguard didn't turn on the air conditioning. He just opened the windows to let the natural air flow in, saying it was better for me.
The moment I sat in the car, I pulled off the scarf wrapping my head. I'd rather endure a headache or whatever in the future than suffocate under all those layers.
When we arrived at the orphanage, the courtyard was utterly silent—not a single person in sight.
I stepped out of the car and stood in the middle of the yard, gazing at the familiar buildings. My mother's words echoed in my mind. "The greatest joy for a person isn't how much they gain, but the happiness they find in helping others."
Since childhood, my mother had often brought me here, sharing treats and toys with the children at the orphanage. And through that, I truly experienced joy.
Now, standing here again, I was flooded with complex feelings.
My mom instilled in me a strong sense of kindness, yet she forgot to teach me about the darker side of human nature. I was so easily fooled by Oliver, and that was partly Mom's fault too.
Such thoughts felt unbearably guilty. As soon as they surfaced, I pinched myself hard to snap out of it. How could I think like that? If Mom knew, she'd be heartbroken.
Shaking off those messy thoughts, I walked toward the director's office. Along the familiar path, I arrived at the office and knocked gently on the door.
"Come in," a voice replied, and I froze. It wasn't the director's voice. The director was a kindly old woman with a gentle smile, but this voice was definitely a man's.
I figured Marlee must be out, so I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Behind the desk sat a man in his thirties. He was repairing a toy broken by one of the children.
The room was just as I remembered it. It had been three years since I last came, but nothing had changed. A row of bookshelves lined the wall, an office desk was worn from decades of use, and two chairs were placed for the visitors.
There was no other furniture in the office. The setup was the same, only older and dustier.
"May I help you?" the man asked, his face lighting up with a wide smile. He looked pure-hearted and kind.
I replied, "I'm here to see the director."
"I am the director."
"Huh?" His answer startled me, and I added, "Where's Marlee?"
"She passed away a year ago—suffered a heart attack and didn't make it. Were you one of the children who grew up here?" asked him.
He invited me to sit down and poured a cup of hot water. "Please, have some water."
My eyes grew wet. I hadn't expected the kind and gentle Marlee to be gone.
I fought back the tears, replying, "No, I'm not an orphan. I just want to do something good to build some merit for myself. I actually came to donate."
The man nodded. "Oh, I see. Thank you, ma'am. Please wait a moment. I'll get the accountant, so she can prepare a receipt for you."
"No rush on the receipt," I said. "I want to know, since the new director took over, is financial transparency maintained? How can I be sure that the money I donate really goes to the children?"
I was blunt, but the director showed no sign of offense. He replied, "Your concerns are valid. Every penny spent is recorded and cataloged. We ensure our finances are open and transparent. Anyone who donates can review the accounts anytime."
He paused, then added, "This policy was established by Marlee. As long as I'm the director, it will never be changed."
I smiled, "Good. Then please get the accountant here."
In no time, the accountant came with the receipt. But as we were about to complete the transfer, both of them froze for a moment.
The director looked at me with a hint of excitement in his eyes. "Are you donating 1.5 million dollars? Can it be done in installments? That's such a large sum. It might be too much to use all at once."
This orphanage didn't start as a government institution. Back when Marlee was still young, someone left a baby girl on her doorstep.
At that time, political upheaval was at its height, and there was nowhere to place adopted children. Marlee, unmarried then, simply took her in.
From that point on, every few months, more abandoned infants were left at her doorstep. As the number of children grew, and the influence expanded, the government eventually stepped in and officially established this orphanage.
For years, the orphanage had depended on donations to cover expenses. Many kind-hearted people supported them, but donations of this magnitude were certainly rare.
His words made me chuckle. I'd heard of paying bills in installments, but never donating in installments before.
I replied, "I can't donate in installments. I'm going to be quite busy soon and won't have time to visit."
The director laughed too. The accountant also chuckled on the side.
After finishing all the paperwork, the director personally escorted me to the door. Even after the car had driven quite far, I could still see his figure standing in the courtyard.
Coming back from the orphanage, I swept away the gloom I'd felt the past few days. My mom was right—helping others truly brought joy.
I felt happy, although the sudden fortune I had just acquired was gone again. Now, I had only about 80,000 dollars left for emergencies.
For an ordinary family, that sum might be enough to live comfortably for years.
But I was heading to the Knight family, one of the real high societies. According to what the instructor said during my training, that money might only buy one or two custom-made outfits for them.
But it didn't matter to me. I could always scrounge money from Mason. True or not, once I stepped through the Knight Manor gate, he wouldn't make me wear bargain-bin clothes.
Feeling smug about my own cleverness, I suddenly jumped at a voice behind me. "What are you thinking about? Your grin shows you're up to no good."
I turned around—well, it was who I was thinking of. Could I admit I was plotting against Mason? Of course not.
I replied, "I just came back from donating at the orphanage. I'm in a great mood. This is the smile of a good soul after doing a good deed. I feel like I'm shining from the inside out."
I shamelessly blurted out those words before they even crossed my mind.
"Yeah, you're pretty kindhearted. Looks like you donated all your wealth?" he asked.
"Yep, almost. My dad used to say, 'Money earned through dirty ways will go away just the same.' I think it's meaningful to use this money to do good," I said with complete confidence.
Mason crossed his arms, giving me a teasing look. "Don't make me laugh. Are you sure your dad said that? It's clearly from a book."
I rolled my eyes at him. "It doesn't matter. Anyway, that's where I heard it from."
Mason didn't argue over such a pointless topic anymore. Instead, he pulled a credit card from his pocket and handed it to me. "Go get yourself some clothes, bags, jewelry, or whatever you want."