CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 151: GETTING THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE TOMORROW

It’s been a while since they last met.

Poppy Hale has been preoccupied with matters at the factory lately.

Standing in the Hale Group’s factory, she did nothing but quietly stood there.

It was like the first time she followed Connor Lynch to a factory when she was a child.

Connor Lynch stood in the factory, gently stroking Poppy Hale’s hair, and softly said, "Poppy, whether or not you take over your parents’ business in the future, you must remember that the most important thing in this world isn’t making money, it’s life."

"As an entrepreneur, you must have reverence for life, reverence for nature."

"Having no conscience might earn more money, but it’s having a conscience that will let you go further."

At that time, Poppy Hale couldn’t understand what Connor Lynch was saying.

When it was her turn to stand in Connor Lynch’s position, she finally understood his state of mind.

The location of the Hale Group’s factory is somewhat remote.

Poppy Hale had just passed her second driving test.

There are two more exams waiting to be scheduled.

She’s been taking taxis to work lately, which is indeed a bit inconvenient.

Declan Hawthorne coming to pick her up today was unexpected, and after thinking it over, she remembered he should have been discharged from the hospital recently.

Everyone could feel how busy Poppy Hale was.

Declan Hawthorne also noticed.

Poppy Hale seldom replied to his messages.

Even if she did, it was often very late at night, selectively responding to a few.

On the way there, Declan Hawthorne even changed into a different outfit.

Poppy Hale’s gaze was constantly on the view outside the window.

Declan Hawthorne waved his fingers in front of her.

"What are you thinking about?"

Poppy Hale snapped back to reality, unexpectedly seeing Declan Hawthorne’s face.

He had lost weight.

After lying in bed for so long, it’s hard not to become thinner.

His hair had grown a bit longer; perhaps he hadn’t found the time to cut it yet.

Men’s hair, if not trimmed regularly every month, would grow into a mess.

Like a bush in a greenbelt.

But on Declan Hawthorne, these are not issues.

He still looked elegant and noble, with added hints of casual charm and handsomeness.

Poppy Hale gently shook her head and signed, "The factory matters."

She reached out and touched his hair.

Took out her phone to search for nearby barbershops.

After finding a few, she showed them to Declan Hawthorne.

Her actions were natural, as if she had done it many times, as if it was an indelible habit of caring for others.

Yet, Declan Hawthorne sensed an indescribable detachment.

Poppy Hale was too quiet now.

Not because she couldn’t speak.

A person’s language isn’t just in sound; it’s in actions, emotions, and eyes.

None of these had been conveyed to him by her.

In the past, even if she was uncomfortable, she’d wish to cling to him entirely, their gazes always glued together.

Declan Hawthorne caught that thread of restless anxiety deep inside his heart.

He grasped Poppy Hale’s slender wrist, pulling it closer to himself.

"There’s a clipper at home. You can cut my hair."

Poppy Hale opened her mouth, making a soundless "ah."

She had no experience in cutting hair.

Throughout her life, she hadn’t even tried cutting Florence Lynch’s hair.

Declan Hawthorne’s hair.

Just looking at it, she felt it was a style beyond her control.

She shook her head, decisively rejecting Declan Hawthorne’s suggestion.

Declan Hawthorne, however, was unwilling to give up.

"If you don’t cut it for me, then I just won’t cut it at all. At worst, I’ll grow it long like Old Man Shaw."

Allen Shaw kept long hair because of his long, slender face coupled with a pair of very alluring eyes, making long hair look romantically poetic on him.

Declan Hawthorne with long hair.

Poppy Hale didn’t even dare imagine.

Good-looking, indeed, as his face would look good even bald.

Poppy Hale burst into a laugh.

Using photo-editing software on her phone, she edited a picture of Declan Hawthorne with long hair.

It didn’t look bad, actually.

Morgan Sloan, in the driver’s seat, timely chimed in, "President Hawthorne, your appearance is tied to the company’s image. Please consider carefully."

Morgan Sloan thought he certainly didn’t care what hairstyle the boss had.

But the boss clearly wanted Poppy Hale to cut his hair!

As a competent Chief Eunuch, he had to understand what the Emperor was thinking.

Indeed.

Declan Hawthorne raised an eyebrow and said, "I can’t possibly go to the marriage registration office with this hair, can I?"

Speaking of marriage registration.

Poppy Hale blinked.

She typed on her phone to show him.

"Then I definitely can’t cut it for you. If it turns out bad, won’t the photos look ugly?"

Declan Hawthorne clasped Poppy Hale’s fingertips, enfolding them within his palm.

"It’s okay. Ugly, it’s just this one instance."

He feared Poppy Hale might change her mind.

Not want to marry him.

But he didn’t have the courage to voice this concern.

Poppy Hale had no choice but to nod in agreement.

She planned to search for haircut tutorials on her phone, but Declan Hawthorne took it away.

"Looking at it for too long might make you car sick."

"When are you taking the driving test?"

Poppy Hale roughly calculated, then held up two fingers in front of Declan Hawthorne.

It meant ten more days.

Today, she wore a white down jacket, with two fluffy balls at the ends, probably bought during college.

This gesture made her seem like she was back in her university days.

Playful and cute.

Declan Hawthorne intertwined his hand with Poppy Hale’s outstretched fingers.

Enveloping her soft hand firmly within his own.

"We’ll go and register tomorrow."

Poppy Hale nodded.

Declan Hawthorne looked into her calm gaze and felt a pang in his heart.

He tried to find excitement and joy on her face.

There was none.

Declan Hawthorne pretended not to see Poppy Hale’s calm look and smiled at her gently.

"Let’s drive the Wrangler there. I remember you said once your uncle mentioned using that car as your dowry. I’ve prepared it already."

Confusion was written in Poppy Hale’s eyes.

Was Declan Hawthorne buying that Wrangler because he remembered what she’d said before?

What man prepares the woman’s dowry?

Poppy Hale tugged on Declan Hawthorne’s hand, her fingers softly scratching his large palm.

Like a cat’s paw, neither painful nor ticklish, yet it tantalized Declan Hawthorne.

He sighed lightly in his heart.

Seeing Poppy Hale’s bright eyes and pleading gaze, he gave in.

"I know what you mean. After we get the certificate, it won’t be announced publicly, just to the family."

"But you must also promise me, if necessary, I’ll make it public."

Poppy Hale nodded.

She understood.

For the Hawthorne Group executives, the marital status among shareholders wasn’t a secret.

Marital status might even be an important assessment criterion.

She just wished for fewer people to know.

The Hale Group is still rebuilding. Too much early attention wouldn’t be good for them.

Morgan Sloan, driving at the front, now showed a sincere smile.

Quickly recovered from the overwhelming information, he smiled and said, "Congratulations to both of you!"

He spoke with enthusiasm and vigor.

"Tomorrow is bound to be a great day!"