He Went to Hell for Me, But I Let Him Go

The next morning, Celia rose early and left the house to settle her affairs.

Her death had been abrupt, and it wasn’t until last night, after hours of searching online, that she realized how many loose ends needed tying up.

But now that Lucas had someone he wanted to build a new family with, as his adopted daughter, she felt like nothing more than a burden. She didn’t want to leave him with the trouble of dealing with her aftermath.

At the registry office, when she explained that she wanted to terminate her own records, the clerk was incredulous and confirmed with her repeatedly.

“Miss, a record can only be terminated when someone passes away. Are you sure about this?”

Celia forced a wry smile and nodded. “I’ll be gone from this world in six days.”

Hearing this, the clerk assumed she had been diagnosed with a terminal illness. They gave her a look of pity, then glanced at her file and shook their head regretfully.

She was only eighteen.

The clerk didn’t press further and proceeded with her request.

After canceling her records, Celia arranged for a memorial portrait, purchased a casket, and even picked out a funeral outfit for herself. At each stop, she encountered curious or pitying looks, but she paid them no mind.

Her only thought was to ensure everything was arranged perfectly, so Lucas wouldn’t have to trouble himself with any of it later.

By the time she returned home, it was already evening. As she stepped through the door, she spotted Yvonne in the kitchen, wearing an apron and busying herself with dinner preparations.

Yvonne greeted her warmly as she walked in. “Celia, you’re back! I cooked tonight and was waiting for you to eat together.”

Noticing the bags in Celia’s hand, Yvonne’s curiosity piqued. “What did you buy?”

Celia shook her head without answering and headed upstairs to put her things away. Once everything was stored, she came back down and joined Yvonne in the kitchen.

“Let me help you.”

The two worked together in the kitchen for a while, chatting pleasantly. When Lucas returned, the villa was peaceful. There were no arguments or tense silences, only a surprisingly harmonious atmosphere.

Seeing this, Lucas couldn’t hide his astonishment. He knew Celia’s feelings for him all too well—her emotions were always written plainly on her face. In the past, she would never have gotten along with Yvonne so amicably.

Now, dinner was ready, and the three of them sat down at the dining table. They began their meal together in an unexpectedly calm and cordial manner.

During dinner, Yvonne remained exceptionally warm and attentive, frequently adding food to Celia’s plate.

“Celia, try this shrimp. It’s especially tender. I made it just for you.”

As her plate piled high with food, Celia hesitated. Though she now had a physical form, she was, after all, no longer among the living.

When she struck her deal with the King of the Underworld, he explicitly told her that during these seven days, while she could remain in the mortal world, she was forbidden from consuming human food.

Her hesitation was obvious, and she continued to avoid eating the dishes Yvonne served her.

Seeing this, Lucas noticed Yvonne’s growing awkwardness. His gaze hardened as he shot Celia a warning look.

“Yvonne made this for you. Eat it,” he ordered, his tone sharp and commanding.

Celia stayed silent but eventually picked up her plate, forcing herself to eat the food in front of her.

The moment the food slid down her throat, a searing pain erupted in her stomach as if her insides were being scorched by fire. Unable to endure it, she bolted for the bathroom, retching violently until the pain subsided slightly.

The sudden commotion left Yvonne teary-eyed, her voice tinged with grievance as she turned to Lucas. “Does Celia not like me?”

At her words, Lucas’s expression darkened. He patted Yvonne’s hand in reassurance. “Of course she likes you. Let me check on her.”

He stood and followed after Celia.

In the bathroom, Celia leaned against the sink, the pain in her stomach gradually easing. She glanced at her pale reflection in the mirror and exhaled softly.

It seemed her condition wouldn’t allow this after all. Perhaps she should find an excuse to leave the table soon.

With that thought, she turned and opened the bathroom door, only to find Lucas standing outside, his expression stormy.

Celia froze, assuming he was there out of concern. Gathering herself, she spoke up. “Uncle, I’m not feeling well. You should go back and finish dinner. I’ll just head upstairs to rest.”

She expected him to return to Yvonne after her explanation.

Instead, his face darkened further, and when he finally spoke, his words left her stunned.

“When I saw you and Yvonne getting along earlier, I thought you’d finally learned to behave. But it turns out you’re still up to your old tricks—throwing tantrums just to embarrass her.”

“Uncle, I wasn’t…” Her face grew even paler, a sharp ache spreading through her chest. She forced a faint smile, trying to explain herself, but he coldly interrupted her before she could finish.

“I don’t care what your excuse is. You’ll go back and finish that meal.”