Perhaps because she saw Cain standing in the rain for so long, the kind florist offered him an umbrella.
Cain tried to pay, but the shop owner only smiled gently and said, "Just return it to me tomorrow."
The florist was an elderly woman with a kind face—her smile made her look even more elegant and warm. The moment she saw Cain, she could immediately tell this young man carried a heart full of love, on his way to confess to someone dear.
"Making a good appearance is also a way to gain extra points in your beloved's eyes. I wish you success," she said.
Cain took the umbrella and was momentarily stunned, as if he hadn't expected himself to be so obvious.
He nodded seriously, thanked the florist, and stepped into the rain.
But almost as soon as he walked a short distance, Cain's expression tightened. He heard footsteps—judging by the sound, more than five people were following him.
It seemed these people had finally run out of patience and were ready to make a move.
In an instant, Cain snapped the umbrella shut and bolted with impossible speed!
The pursuers clearly hadn't expected this. They immediately sprinted after him.
"This way!"
One of them roared as they rushed into a narrow alley. But only seconds later, a scream tore through the rain—Cain hadn't simply run away. The folded umbrella in his hand had become a weapon, and in a flash, he had already taken down several pursuers.
However, their numbers were far from small. More figures began appearing, moving in quickly. Cain frowned and continued running—he needed to reach a busier street. Though judging by the determination of these people, they didn't seem like they would back down…
At that moment, a sharp whistle of air sliced through the downpour. Cain looked up just in time to see a man in black dropping from above, swinging a metal rod straight toward him.
Cain's eyes widened. He immediately threw himself backward, narrowly avoiding the strike.
And now, he was almost completely surrounded.
Cain knew he had no way out.
He stared at them coldly and said in an icy voice, "What the hell do you all want from me?"
One of the men laughed and stepped forward.
But at that moment, a gunshot suddenly rang out from afar.
The group froze for a second, then immediately moved faster.
Cain wasn't weak, but being surrounded by so many—especially a group with training and coordination—meant he quickly fell into a disadvantage, overwhelmed from all sides.
Footsteps thundered from the distance, growing louder and closer.
Cain kicked aside a man blocking his way and dashed forward with all the speed he could muster.
But just then, one of the men who had fallen earlier suddenly sprang up and lunged at him, swinging a metal rod.
Cain was already running out of strength. He tried to dodge, but still failed to escape the blow that smashed squarely into his head.
His body collapsed to the side, nerves seeming to shut down entirely. His limbs felt powerless, unable to move even an inch.
"Chairman!"
Voices erupted behind him—angry shouts—while the men in black were quickly subdued.
Cain's vision grew more and more blurry. In the end, the only thing left in his fading sight was the bouquet of gardenias lying far away, trampled during the chaos—its white petals scattered in the mud.
Saphen…
Saphen…
Saphen…
Cain kept whispering the name until his consciousness sank completely into darkness.
"Achoo!"
In his room, Saphen suddenly sneezed several times in a row. The tip of his nose and the corners of his eyes were slightly red, and he could already feel his breathing becoming stuffy.
6677 became worried. "Master, are you really alright?"
"I just took medicine."
Saphen glanced at the clock—it was nearly ten at night. It seemed no miracle was going to happen. The scenario that was meant to unfold would unfold.
He took a sip of water, turned off the lights, and went to bed.
But his sleep was far from peaceful. His body alternated between hot and cold, and his mind was a chaotic mess, tangled and heavy.
6677 watched Saphen trembling nonstop, placing its front paws on his forehead, frightened out of its mind.
It paced anxiously across the bed, circling around Saphen, calling his name—but received no response.
Fortunately, by dawn, Saphen's condition finally stabilized a little.
He blinked, his vision blurry, and the sharp pain shooting through him made his brows knit together. Tears immediately welled up at the corners of his eyes.
"Saphen! You finally opened your eyes— you scared me half to death!"
6677 practically threw itself onto him the moment he woke, crying loudly.
Saphen felt its soft fur brushing against his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak, only to realize that his throat hurt so badly and felt so constricted that he couldn't force out a single proper word.
He gasped, steadying his breathing with effort, and mumbled, "Cain…"
By reflex, he wanted to call for Cain—only to remember a moment later that Cain wasn't here anymore.
Saphen stared blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds, then tried to get up. But the moment his feet touched the floor, his legs gave out, sending him collapsing to his knees. The coldness seeping up from the tiles made him tremble.
Instinctively, he rubbed his forehead. He hadn't expected the illness to hit so suddenly. As expected, winter and he were mortal enemies.
6677 jumped in fright when Saphen suddenly collapsed like that.
It hurriedly clamped onto the back of Saphen's shirt with its teeth, tugging him backward. "Why are you suddenly getting out of bed?! Get back up there! What are you trying to do?!"
Saphen forced out, "Water."
Hearing that shredded, painful voice, 6677 panicked and sprinted out of the room.
Saphen lay back in bed, turning his gaze toward the door.
A moment later—thud thud thud—6677 made its "graceful" return.
It was walking on its hind legs, holding a plate with both front paws, and on that plate was a glass of water.
Its perfectly round belly wobbled with each step. Even half-delirious with exhaustion, Saphen couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you laughing at? Drink the water!" 6677 scolded.
Saphen took a sip. The relief was immediate. He looked at 6677 and smiled faintly. "Just… suddenly realized you're kind of adorable."
Because of the fever, Saphen's skin was pale, with a faint flush blooming at the corners of his eyes. His smile only made him look even more beautiful—fragile in a way that stirred a protective instinct.
Normally, seeing Saphen in such a weakened state was almost impossible.
6677 slapped a paw over its chest and huffed, "You noticed my adorableness only now?! Too late!"
Saphen chuckled softly and said nothing.
…
Early that same morning, at the Cross family's private hospital—
Cain slowly opened his eyes. Pain coursed belatedly through his nerves, making him shudder and his breathing turn unsteady.
Bruises of uneven purples and greens mottled his skin. Blood stained his forehead and the corner of his mouth. And that was without counting the other injuries across his body. Fortunately, nothing was broken. Considering the weapons those men had used, Cain felt these surface wounds were far lighter than expected.
But he couldn't shake the strange feeling that he should have been stabbed…
Just then, the hospital room door swung open. Cain instinctively turned his head and saw Mason walking in, carrying breakfast.