Chapter 371: Through the Floor-to-ceiling Windows

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Clara Whitmore and Daniel Whitmore sat in the café's garden patio. The glass partition revealed Helen Whitmore and Spencer Hale facing each other inside.

Helen's expression shifted from initial bewilderment to solemnity, finally settling into visible remorse. The conversation clearly wasn't going smoothly.

Spencer stood up to leave when Helen suddenly said something.

He lit up like a candle flame, instantly radiant.

Resuming his seat, their discussion continued.

This time Helen became more animated. Her previously wooden demeanor regained its vitality.

When they concluded, Spencer extended his hand again. "Mr. Whitmore, pleasure doing business."

Helen didn't hesitate this time. She stood and shook his hand. "Thank you. Our discussion would've gone smoother if you'd shown me the proofread manuscript earlier."

Spencer shook his head. "Words are sacred. They tell stories, convey emotions, celebrate beauty—but should never become tools for moral coercion."

Helen sighed softly. "You're a good editor. Hopefully this time..."

She wouldn't repeat the same mistakes.

During the ride home, Clara couldn't resist asking, "Mom, what do you think of Spencer?"

"Grounded. Sincere. Genuine."

"So you reached an agreement?"

"Yes. I'd nearly given up hope, but his authenticity moved me. Things can't possibly get worse than now—might as well take this chance."

Back home, Clara gasped while reviewing the contract details.

Helen looked up. "What's wrong?"

Daniel immediately leaned in. "Problem with the contract?"

Clara shook her head. Not only was the contract fair, it leaned favorably toward Helen.

The crucial point—

This contract signed the author, not the book.

Spencer had broken industry norms by directly contracting Helen herself.

After explanations, Daniel and Helen finally relaxed.

Clara forwarded Spencer's profile to Helen—his resume, signed works, and bestselling IPs he'd developed.

After reviewing, Helen murmured, "He's this accomplished?"

Clara simply said four words: "Top of the field."

The next day, DecaCulture Publishing transferred the advance to Helen's account.

Daniel counted the digits aloud. "Ones, tens, hundreds... Two million?!"

This only covered print royalties for four books. Future editions or derivative rights would bring additional percentages.

Helen hadn't expected Spencer to move so quickly—as if fearing she'd change her mind.

Clara gaped. "Mom, you're incredible!"

Helen flushed slightly. "I never expected..."

Truthfully, she didn't believe herself worth that sum.

They'd agreed on one million, yet the amount doubled. Though Spencer had mentioned fighting for better terms, the figure still shocked her.

Then Spencer called.

"Mr. Whitmore, received the payment?"

"Yes, but the amount—"

"One million is the agreed print royalty. The extra fifty thousand was my negotiation. The remaining fifty thousand is the mini-drama adaptation advance for The Lantern."

"Adaptation rights? Before publication?"

"Exactly. That's your influence."

Helen never imagined she still held "influence" after all these years away.

Though Spencer had mentioned it, she'd assumed it was politeness.

That night, Clara's bank account suddenly gained two million.

Seeing the balance alert, she froze momentarily before throwing off her blankets. Barefoot, she dashed to the adjacent bedroom—