Urban Romance

I didn't know where I fainted, but I was finally woken by the sound of rain outside the window.
The southern rainy season always arrived abruptly. Bean-sized raindrops hit the glass, pattering loudly, eerily similar to the sound of crackling wood in the fire of my past life.
I sat up and touched the wound on my arm; the bandage had been changed.
A woman in her forties or fifties came in. "Miss, you're awake? I just made some porridge. You can have some if you're hungry."
"Who are you? Where is this?"
"This is the Lawson residence."
The Lawson family?
I looked puzzled at the person before me. Under her gaze, I seemed to realize who it was.
Lucas Lawson.
The name rolled on my tongue, feeling both unfamiliar and familiar.
He was the CEO of the Lawson Group, a feared titan of capital in financial circles, and also... the boy who always squatted outside the orphanage fence, watching me draw a

Liam found me when the osmanthus blossoms had already bloomed.
He stood under the camphor tree in front of the teaching building, wearing a black trench coat, his figure noticeably thinner than half a year ago.
The autumn sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on him.
"Come back with me." He got straight to the point, his tone carrying that undeniable command, just like countless times in our past life.
I hugged my painting tube and turned to leave without a word.
Inside the tube was my work for the Young Artists Exhibition, an oil painting titled Rebirth.
"Wendy Croft!" He grabbed my wrist, his grip so strong it felt like he might crush the bones. "Do you really enjoy hiding from me this much?"
"It's not hiding." I looked at him, my eyes calm like stagnant water. "It's not wanting to see you."
His pupils constricted sharply, as if stung. "But you... liked me, didn't yo

The motion-activated lights in the hotel hallway lit up one by one in response to Violet's cries, leaving a trail of cold light in their wake.
I watched Liam put his arm around her shoulder, watched him frown as he listened to her sobbing explanation, watched the lingering doubt in his eyes towards me gradually be replaced by pity for her.
"Liam, I really didn't know it would be like this..." Violet's nails dug deep into his forearm, the sleeve of her pearl-white dress stained with my blood, like a stark red camellia fallen upon it. "I just heard from a waiter that you passed out here, I was afraid you were in trouble, so I..."
Liam interrupted her, his voice tired, but he still wiped her tears away. "I know you didn't mean any harm."
His gaze when it turned to me was completely cold, like a knife dipped in ice. "Wendy Croft, do you hate Violet that much? To make her lose face, you'd even risk your own life?"
I laughed, clutching my bleeding arm. The smell of blood mixed with hysterical laughter rose in my throat, making me cough uncontrollably. "Liam Sullivan, you are hopelessly blind."
Old Madam Sullivan shuffled closer, her silver-topped cane tapping an urgent rhythm on the carpet. "You scourge! Our Sullivan family must have been blind to get involved with your Croft family!"
I straightened my spine. Blood dripped from my fingertips onto my red dress, blooming dark flowers.
I turned and walked towards the elevator, each step feeling like treading on blades. "You all enjoy the show. I wish you... a happy union till a hundred years."
As the elevator doors closed, I saw Liam still standing there, his brow furrowed into a tight knot.
When I returned to the Croft family home, the crystal chandelier in the living room was blindingly bright. My father slammed a teacup onto the coffee table, the fragments scattering near my feet. "How dare you show your face back here?!"
"Or what?" I tore off my blood-stained coat, revealing the bandage on my arm. "Die outside, so you can clear the way for Violet Croft?"
"Why would you say that?" My mother rushed over, wanting to touch my wound, but I turned my head away. "Wendy, how did you become like this? Violet is so kind, why do you always target her?"
"Kind?" I laughed uncontrollably, tears mixing with drops of blood falling. "So kind she drugged me? So kind she brought you all to catch me in the act? So kind she played the victim while I was bleeding?"
Violet stood at the staircase, watching me, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips.
Only when I looked over did she hurriedly lower her head, shoulders trembling slightly as if frightened by my words.
"You're talking nonsense!" My father raised his hand to hit me, but my mother held him back desperately. "How could Violet possibly do such a thing? You must have misunderstood!"
"Misunderstood?" I pointed at Violet, my voice shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind.
"Wendy, forget it, we're all family..."
"She and I are not family." I turned and stumbled up the stairs. "We haven't been since the day you picked her up."
The moment I locked the door, I slid down against it to the floor. The wound on my arm still hurt, but it was nothing compared to the ten-thousandth part of the old wound in my heart.
The day I left the Croft family, the sound of my suitcase wheels rolling over the bluestone pavement was monotonous.
A light rain fell from the sky, much like the weather the day I was kicked out of the orphanage.



I didn't know where I fainted, but I was finally woken by the sound of rain outside the window.
The southern rainy season always arrived abruptly. Bean-sized raindrops hit the glass, pattering loudly, eerily similar to the sound of crackling wood in the fire of my past life.
I sat up and touched the wound on my arm; the bandage had been changed.
A woman in her forties or fifties came in. "Miss, you're awake? I just made some porridge. You can have some if you're hungry."
"Who are you? Where is this?"
"This is the Lawson residence."
The Lawson family?
I looked puzzled at the person before me. Under her gaze, I seemed to realize who it was.
Lucas Lawson.
The name rolled on my tongue, feeling both unfamiliar and familiar.
He was the CEO of the Lawson Group, a feared titan of capital in financial circles, and also... the boy who always squatted outside the orphanage fence, watching me draw among the bellflowers.
The year I was fifteen, he was taken away by relatives from abroad. "Wait for 

Chapter 4