Chapter 294

"Fate comes in two forms—blessed unions and ill-fated encounters. Take Christopher Garcia—that was your ill-fated match. Your true destiny still awaits."

Jessica River blinked in confusion. Blessed unions? Ill-fated encounters? These were entirely new concepts to her.

"Remember Daniel's last courtship? That was simply lacking fate's blessing. Like Charles Clark and Margaret Lee—I heard he even bought her lipstick, but her father demanded an exorbitant dowry—three hundred yuan plus the 'Three Turns and One Sound'!"

"Three hundred?" Jessica gasped. "With the dowry gifts? That's outrageous!"

"They say Margaret tried drowning herself afterward. The man who rescued her married her—the wedding's already happened."

Jessica hadn't heard any of this. Since her marriage, she rarely visited home except during holidays. The hour-long walk between Garcia Village and River Village might as well have been an ocean.

"What's meant to be will find its way," Emily Johnson sighed. "Truthfully, that girl wasn't worthy of Daniel. He's nearly six feet tall, hardworking, and handsome. That girl was barely five-foot-two, thin as a reed, with sunspots and a terrible temper."

Jessica studied Emily covertly. Her sister-in-law's porcelain skin seemed to glow, her slender fingers and raven hair making her look like a painting come to life. Her clothes were always exquisite.

The only flaw? She never worked the fields. But Michael could afford it, and her family often sent money and gifts.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever met," Jessica said earnestly.

Emily smiled, patting her head. "You'll blossom too. When you master dressmaking, working indoors will restore your complexion. Beauty follows naturally."

Dressmaking? Jessica's eyes lit up.

As Emily emerged, Martha River hurried over. "How did it go?"

"She's steadier now. But Daniel's situation needs resolving."

Martha's face darkened. The girl's family clearly wanted to exploit the situation for more dowry.

"Let them break it!" Martha snapped. "Compared to you, that girl's like dirt beneath your feet!"

By mid-August, rice fields turned gold, but admission letters remained elusive.

"Some in town received theirs," Michael reported after his daily post office visit. "For the city university."

"Ours are for the capital. We'll wait longer."

That evening, Olivia Parker arrived breathlessly. "Emily, any news?"

Had they failed again? Last year's disappointment was understandable, but this year they'd studied relentlessly—copying test papers, even forming study groups with Emily.

"Patience," Emily soothed. "The letters may already be en route."

What else could they do but wait?