Rayn, his mind alight with the secrets revealed at the dinner table, slowly walked toward his bedroom. He felt a deep, profound restlessness that transcended mere curiosity; it was a soul-deep ache demanding answers.
He opened the large glass door of his balcony and stepped out. The cool, damp air was rich with the sweet fragrance of blue lilies and the stronger, intoxicating perfume of Peony (Mǔdān) flowers blooming nearby. The scent filled the room, bringing a strange sense of heightened alertness. Rayn sat down on one of the outdoor chairs. Slowly, almost silently, the first flakes of snow began to pour down from the heavens—an impossible sight in the humid Hong Kong hills.
He watched the descending snow, the calm, white descent momentarily settling the frantic churn in his heart. He stayed there for nearly an hour, watching the snowfall transform the tropical garden into a monochrome dreamscape.
He eventually went to bed, but the calm was temporary. The need to sleep was overridden by the relentless, burning questions. He tried to force himself to rest for two hours straight, but his mind refused. He glanced at the old clock on his bedside table—an antique his mother had proudly won at auction for one hundred and seventy thousand yuan. It showed the hour was approaching 2:00 AM.
He gave up on sleep, quietly leaving his bedroom. He walked down the silent hall and paused at his mother's door. He gently pushed it open. Valerie was in bed, but her lamp was still on, and the windows were open, allowing the fragrant air to circulate. He noticed the soft glow of her smartphone screen in her hand.
Rayn quietly left her room and went into the kitchen to make a black coffee. As the coffee machine began its familiar, comforting hiss, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Make a coffee for me also," a soft voice requested.
Rayn turned back, his red eyes calm and knowing. "Mom! I knew you weren't sleeping. That's why I came straight to the kitchen to make coffee for both of us."
Valerie smiled, a hint of genuine surprise mixing with pride. "How did you know I wasn't asleep? I was very still."
Rayn explained his flawless observation: "It's simple. Whenever you truly fall asleep, you always close both the windows and turn off the lamp. When I came to your room, your lamp was still on, and the windows were open. I also saw your last activity on the family chat—you were still online. That's how I confirmed you were awake."
Valerie's eyes gleamed with pride at his extraordinary observational skills. Rayn was exactly the genius she knew him to be. Rayn made the coffee and handed the cup to Valerie.
She took a sip, the warmth comforting her. "Why didn't you go to sleep, Rayn?"
"Just old memories," Rayn replied, looking down into his cup. "They're flowing back now, disturbing me."
"Is it the dreams?" she asked, her voice instantly curious and concerned.
Rayn nodded. "Yes. The same memories that always follow me, making me uncomfortable. They feel more real now, Mom."
They talked for a long time, the black coffee and the still night lending itself to intimacy, until the auction clock turned past 4:00 AM. Rayn finally stood. "We should try to sleep, Mother. Otherwise, we won't wake up until afternoon."
Valerie and Rayn returned to their respective rooms. Rayn lay in bed, and this time, the scent of the nearby lily flowers seemed to settle his heart immediately. He closed his red eyes and finally slipped into sleep.
As soon as he was under, the sleep was violently fractured. Rayn listened to a woman's voice—a voice of shattering, terrifying power. It sounded regal, ancient, and undeniably royal.
The sheer command in the woman's voice caused the entire Earth to shake beneath him. The impact was so powerful that the buildings and mountains in his subconscious vision trembled, but they were not destroyed; the shaking was a massive psychic pulse, a beacon of raw power. The woman's voice bypassed all physical barriers and directly reached Rayn's subconscious mind:
"Rayn! Rayn! Rayn!"
Rayn instantly found himself standing in a vast, cold black void space. The powerful voice echoed everywhere, demanding attention. Rayn, no longer afraid but desperate for truth, shouted into the void:
"Hey! Who are you, and why are you calling my name? Why do you always come to my dreams?"
The woman's voice replied, tinged with relief and triumph: "Rayn, it's you! I tried for approximately six months just to talk to you, but this time, it worked, and it finally reached you!" She asked, her voice desperate, "Where are you?"
"I am in China!" Rayn shouted back. "But who are you, and what is this place? Where are you talking from?"
The woman's voice resonated with immense authority: "My name is Beatrice, and I am the grandmother of yours, child. I want to talk to you."
Hearing those words—"You are my grandmother"—shattered Rayn's lifelong emotional defense. Subconsciously, a flow of tears instantly streamed down his face. His red eyes, which usually looked so cold and scary, were now streaming like a river. The tears were neither happy nor sad; they were an overwhelming torrent of complex emotions he didn't even know he possessed: shock, relief, grief, and the sudden, incredible fulfillment of his life's single mission.
Rayn spoke, his voice cracking with shock, curiosity, and excitement: "You are my grandmother? Where are you until now? Did you know where my mother and father are? Please tell me! I want to know!"
Beatrice started to speak, but her voice instantly began to fade. The black void space filled with looming, colossal statues of the previous leaders of the Chenwongo family—ancient, powerful figures of royalty. The void space began to shake violently, and the vision collapsed.
Rayn bolted upright in his bed, drenched in sweat, his red eyes wide and streaming with tears. He quickly wiped them away.
He got out of bed, his mind racing. Is this woman who talked to me really my grandmother? Or, as Mom always suggested, is it just another crazy, stressful dream?
The sun was now fully up. Rayn walked out onto the balcony, his face upset, his mind still cycling through the shock of Beatrice's voice. Valerie, Ken, and Rhea were already there, gathered near the dining set.
Valerie immediately saw Rayn's distress and quickly intervened, trying not to disturb him. Ken, about to break the silence with a joke, was stopped by his mother's sharp gesture.
Valerie addressed her son: "Ken, go to your room and start packing your clothes immediately. You, me, and your girlfriend, Rhea, are leaving this place right now."
Ken was stunned. "What about Rayn? You are going to leave him?"
Valerie's expression was grim. "First, leave the place, and I will explain everything after we are safely in the car."
They quickly packed their luggages and got into their cars. Once safely speeding away from the estate, Valerie, her voice low and filled with years of held-back fear, began her confession.
"Ken, I have hidden some things from you and Rayn. I didn't find Rayn in a dustbin. Years ago, a man covered himself entirely in a black robe—a man radiating immense power—handed Rayn to me. He only said one thing: 'One day that comes, I am going to come and take my son away.'"
Valerie continued, her voice trembling. "You remember the major, inexplicable accident you saw on the news that happened fifteen years ago—the one that destroyed the financial tower in Shanghai? That was the same man. He did that major accident to show me how strong he was and what he was going to do if I didn't take care of Rayn. I have always feared this day. I think that day is going to come very soon. In this situation, it is better to leave him alone so he is not a target, and we are not leverage."
Meanwhile, back at the vacated Hong Kong estate, Rayn was frantic. He quickly scanned the empty rooms, the silence echoing their panicked flight. His heart didn't feel abandoned; it felt profoundly betrayed. Why had they left him? Why hadn't they taken him? He rushed to Valerie's room, searching for an answer, and noticed a small, hidden safe beneath a loose floor panel—a safe he knew existed but had never accessed. He opened it with a code he'd deduced years ago (their founding company's initial stock price).
Inside, tucked beneath business papers, was a tiny, worn leather-bound diary.
Rayn snatched the book and flipped immediately to the most recent entry, his red eyes wide and desperate, scanning the elegant script penned by Valerie.
Reading the diary shattered him; he learned her apparent love was built solely on fear. He retreated to the balcony, grappling with the desolate need to redefine everything he thought his life had been.
Then the war still going on in the Aetheleon planet.