Lianne Lianne grew up without a mother. Her father, Cameron Lianne, had to be both dad and mom as he raised her.
To Lianne, her father wasn't just a father—he was the pillar that held up her entire world.
The twelve-year-old girl was still in middle school. Her father had promised that the two of them would go on a trip before school started in September, and she could choose the destination.
Before she learned of her father's accident, she was at home flipping through National Geographic magazines, taking notes as she read, planning to surprise him when he got home.
The very moment she finalized their destination, she received the news: her father had died in a car crash.
For a child raised by her father alone, this was nothing short of her world collapsing.
Lianne stumbled to the hospital. The father who had been laughing and joking with her that morning had, by nightfall, become a cold corpse.
Her world shattered.
Unable to accept reality, she stood frozen, staring at her father's body beneath the white sheet. Her eyes, as if veiled in gray, were filled with the desolate, deathly numbness of a post-apocalyptic wasteland.
A clap of thunder boomed, violently ripping open the pitch-black sky. In an instant, a torrential downpour descended upon the entire city.
Imperia was a massive city; it was rare for a single rainstorm to blanket it entirely. But that night, the sky was an oppressive, dark mass, and the whole city was plunged into a deluge, as if it had transformed into a city of rain.
Late that night, Lianne walked out of the hospital and was instantly soaked by the downpour.
As the sky darkened, so did the world around her. She was utterly alone. Powerless, she sank to the ground, as if the deluge had cordoned her off from the rest of the world.
A hollow sense of despair assaulted her relentlessly. Something churned in her stomach, making her nauseous. She wanted to throw up, but nothing would come out. Only her eyes burned and swelled.
Her eyelashes, heavy with rain and tears, blurred her vision. When Lianne blinked, it was as if a star had fallen.
Suddenly, the rain stopped hitting her. Through the hazy blur of tears and rain, someone approached her at an unhurried pace.
Lianne was soaked through, her hair clinging to her pale cheeks. She lifted her face, dark eyelashes trembling, and peered at the newcomer through the damp mist.
The Ethan Sinclair of that time was twenty years old. He was wearing a hospital gown, but it couldn't conceal his innate, noble air.
With one hand, he held a black, steel-ribbed silk umbrella over her head. In a vast world being scoured by rain, she seemed so small that the umbrella easily shielded her completely.
It was an August thunderstorm, with chilling winds and dark clouds. Yet, to the east, a sliver of blue pierced through—deep, translucent, and impossible to ignore.
He was that splash of blue in a city of gray.
Ethan Sinclair extended a hand to her. His warm, deep voice pierced the cold cascade of rain and settled around her.
"Come with me."
In the darkness, his steady voice was so profound, imbuing her with a sense of infinite security and reliability.
In her world of silent, empty despair, it felt as if he was the only person left.
The girl grasped her lifeline.
Ever since she left with Ethan Sinclair on that rainy night, he had treated her exceptionally well. One could even say he doted on her.
Materially, he granted her every request. Spiritually, he ate meals with her and celebrated holidays by her side. Every warm moment in Lianne's past nine years was stamped with the name 'Ethan Sinclair'.
'The moon hung high in the sky. In every instant its silver light spilled through the cracks in the clouds to the world below, the sea washed over the land, and the heart became an island in an endless expanse.'
'No one is an island.'
'He was like concentric ripples on the water's surface, slowly spreading across the lonely island of her heart.'
The car pulled into the apartment complex. Moonlight streamed through the window, filling the cabin like a dappled river of stars.
Lianne pulled herself from her reverie and pushed the door open. Stepping out of the car, she stopped looking at the bright moon and instead gazed at the ground, lit by a dim streetlight.
In the driver's seat, Assistant Hollis unbuckled his seatbelt, took a small bag from the glove compartment, and got out.
Lianne turned to look at him.
Assistant Hollis held up a bag of cat food. "There's a stray over there. I figured I'd check on it while I'm here."
Hearing this, Lianne paused for a few seconds. Instead of heading upstairs, she walked toward Assistant Hollis.
A small wooden house enclosed an all-white Scottish Fold. Assistant Hollis squatted down and tossed food to it piece by piece. The cat happily swished its tail.
Assistant Hollis was a little surprised to see Lianne but wasn't worried. The cat couldn't get out of the enclosure, and he knew Lianne had enough sense not to get too close.
"Last month, Mr. Sinclair was coming down from your apartment and happened upon an injured Tristan."
Assistant Hollis said, playing with the now-healthy cat, "Mr. Sinclair had me take him to the vet. After he was treated, we brought him back and left him with the complex's security guard."
Tristan. That was the cat's name.
Lianne stared intently at Tristan, and Tristan stared back, its innocent eyes fixed on her.
'Tristan is a little cat who begs for affection, but I'm not.'
Lianne didn't linger. She turned and headed up the stairs.
THUMP... THUMP... THUMP.
And yet, the calm, steady footsteps were nearly inaudible in the vast, silent villa.
Liam Shaw twisted open a bottle of mineral water and poured it into God of Fortune's designated bowl. Hearing the footsteps, he stood and looked toward the sound. His boss was descending the staircase, adjusting his cuffs as he went.
"Mr. Sinclair," Liam Shaw said, his tone respectful but not stiff.
God of Fortune lapped up a few mouthfuls of water, then raised his head, his dark, gleaming eyes fixed on his master.
Liam then watched as the behemoth, so aloof just a moment before, eagerly trotted over to his boss, lifting its massive head to gaze up at him.
'...' 'What a two-faced dog!'
Seth Sinclair's well-defined hand ruffled the fur on God of Fortune's massive back. His gaze swept over, then stopped. His eyes narrowed slightly.
His long fingers parted God of Fortune's clean fur, probing the collar around his neck. He hooked a bracelet that had gotten caught on the metal tag and pulled it free.
Liam Shaw's eyes widened. He took a closer look at the bracelet with its two Red Jade pendants. His mind raced, and he quickly reached a conclusion. "It's probably Miss Lane's."
Besides Seth Sinclair, Lianne was the only other person who had touched God of Fortune tonight, and the bracelet clearly belonged to a woman. It wasn't a difficult deduction.
Liam was about to offer to take it and return it to Lianne, but Seth simply twirled the bracelet around his finger before closing it securely in his palm.
"The old master has been waiting. Go get the car."
His boss was heading back to have a late-night snack with the old master, so Liam immediately went to carry out his order. As for the bracelet, if his boss gave no instructions, he surely had his reasons.
Meanwhile, Lianne let herself into her apartment and flipped on the lights, instantly flooding the room with brightness.
'This luxury apartment is in a great location, close to the university, but it isn't my real home.'
Lianne smiled and shook her head.
'I haven't even figured out my own definition of 'home' yet, and here I am jumping to conclusions.'
'Not very rigorous of me.'
Her phone buzzed with an unread message. Lianne opened WeChat to check it.
Sophie Sheridan: "I can't even. The new guy in the lab is all flash and no substance. Completely useless!"
Sophie Sheridan: "The cell cultures need their medium changed on schedule—you can't leave them for too long—and he forgets every single time!"
Sophie Sheridan: "Lia, tell me, why are there so many 'spring bamboos' around even though it's already autumn?"
Lianne smiled at her friend's little inside joke. "Spring bamboo," a play on the words for "stupid pig."
She held her phone in both hands, her thumb tapping the keyboard. Just as she was about to reply, her eyes fell on her bare wrist.
'Wait, where's my bracelet?'