"If you changed partners, would you get a tattoo for them?" She meant to commemorate her first love. Not to commemorate him. If it were any other partner, would she step into that tattoo parlor without hesitation, and say: Get a tattoo, to commemorate the breakup? When the topic of tattoos came up suddenly, Nora Scott was momentarily stunned, taking a second to recall the tattoo on her forearm. With her finger, she tugged at the fabric of her sleeve, pulling it towards her elbow, revealing the light blue tattoo, and she looked down at it for a couple of seconds. Even she couldn’t help but feel curious— What was her mood when she first got this tattoo? Something from five years ago, too far in the past; she had grown accustomed to the mark on her body, but long forgotten the reason behind it. Nora furrowed her brows slightly, lifted her gaze, and nonchalantly looked at Pedro Langley, saying, "Hard to say. But, it’s indeed uncertain." Pedro’s eyes darkened a bit. Instantly, the atmosphere cooled by several degrees, the room was warm, yet a chill still wafted through the air, seeping into the pores of the skin. Sensitively detecting the awkward atmosphere, Nora figured it wasn’t appropriate to say that answer directly, thought about it, and added, "You didn’t mind, did you?" The response she got was Pedro’s increasingly gloomy expression. This heartless woman, he shouldn’t have asked her! Something that seemed trivial to Nora had solidified the atmosphere, she pondered for a moment, internally sighed it was unnecessary, then raised a brow, "How about you ask again, and I’ll answer anew?" Pedro said nothing, got up, and walked straight towards the study. Afraid that saying another word to her would unleash his pent-up anger. He took a few steps, and Nora called out to him again. Hearing his name, Pedro stopped but didn’t turn back, only his eyes showed slightly dulled emotions, with a brief flash of hope: Had she come to her senses, intending to say something nice? Unexpectedly, Nora opened her mouth and asked, "Someone sent me a few pieces of redwood, maybe I could make you a set of tables and chairs or something?" After a brief pause, Pedro turned slightly, frowned, and asked, "You’ll make it by hand?" Two sharp gazes pierced through, as if inescapable daggers jabbed in, Nora guiltily avoided them for two seconds and said, "I could take care of the design of the blueprints." After two seconds of silence, Pedro remained wordless and stepped into his study. The sound of the door slamming shut was quite loud. Nora was left bewildered. Quite a few items were placed in the living room. Mostly local specialties, from all over, both meat and vegetarian, food and drink, abundant and colorful. In addition, there were also jewelry, crafts, photography equipment, postcards... Her gaze fixed on an unopened box, Nora was slightly surprised. Though Jack Carter seemed carefree, he was actually very diligent, and while unpacking the parcels, he made a list, noting down the names, cities, and gifts of the senders. She picked up the list from the table, browsed through the various names and items, and scrolling all the way down, she was quite surprised. Taking out her phone, she sent a message to Boss Alex. [Nora]: What’s going on with this year’s ’supplies’? Receiving so many gifts was indeed unprecedented. She had a rather mixed group of friends, many of whom were loyal and would go all out with just a word, but each had their own life and didn’t constantly keep track of her birthday or go out of their way to prepare gifts. In previous years, she would receive some gifts sporadically, but never this grand. Importantly, most of the people on this list were strangers to her. Moreover, the ones she knew mostly sent local specialties. It’s the unfamiliar ones whose gifts were rather costly. By her discernment in jewelry and antiques, there were several pieces worth seven figures or more. The moment she sent the message, Boss Alex replied. [Boss Alex]: Forgot to tell you, since you didn’t attend the ’succession ceremony,’ we had them send the ’congratulatory gifts’ as ’birthday gifts’ to you. [Boss Alex]: Hall Master, you deserve them. [Nora]: You people chop the ’beggars’ too? [Boss Alex]: Our miserably poor hall, it’s not just the ’beggars,’ even the ’fools’ are skinned alive when they walk in, right? This naturally justified ’robbing’ left Nora both laughing and crying. Consider it exchanged for two properties. The moon hung high, stars sparse, a gentle moonlight spread like a thin veil of silver upon the ground. In the depth of night, the person lying obediently in bed suddenly opened his eyes, adapting for two seconds, then abruptly sat up. Jesse Johnson glanced around, stealthily lifted the covers, and stepped barefoot onto the wooden floor, crouching as he approached the door. After a few seconds, confirming he heard no sounds, he returned, retrieving a bundle of rope and a pair of sneakers from under the bed, sneaking towards the balcony. The sliding door was gently pushed open, the cold wind blasting in, causing him to shiver. Jesse exhaled deeply, his breath turning into white mist in the chilly air, drifting in the moonlight. He adjusted his jacket, zipped it up to the collar, then changed into his sneakers, stepping onto the balcony. Trapped in the house? With one hand, he grabbed one end of the rope, pulling it taut in a loop, lifting his brows with a bit of pride. The taut rope, under the cool moonlight, appeared as a straight fine line. The night was serene, time flowed by, and the sky remained profound. With the final brushstroke. Nora, suddenly raising her head, while stretching her neck, inadvertently caught a glimpse of the sky outside, momentarily stunned, glancing again at the clock on her desk, she suddenly realized—she had stayed up all night. With her mind clear, Nora looked down at the completed storyboard, then lifted her gaze to the outside. Her expression calm, eyes bright, but her gaze fixed on the opposite building, her fingers idly twirling the pen. After a while, she snapped back to reality, tossing the pen aside. Ten minutes later, freshly washed, Nora grabbed the military coat from the coat rack and headed out. In a secluded alley, a breakfast shop just opened as the first wave of customers arrived. "Three cups of soybean milk, two servings of tofu milk and fried dough sticks, three sugar pancakes, two baskets of soup dumplings, one sugar oil cake..." A voice swiftly rattled off a series of breakfast names ahead of everyone else. The voice was cool, particularly pleasant in the chilly morning. The owner and patrons looked in the direction of the voice, and what they saw first was a bulky, outdated military coat. But the next moment, their gaze was drawn to the face partially hidden by disheveled hair, all their displeasure, irritation, or surprise vanished, leaving only acceptance after the initial shock. Must be a poor soul getting up early to buy breakfast for the whole family. That was what they all thought unanimously. The owner busily prepared the breakfast she ordered, and the patrons silently waited, no one voicing any complaints. Before long, a small pouch placed in a larger bag, all the way up to three big bags, were handed over to her. Nora, who had prepaid by scanning a code, thanked them and easily carried the bags away. Walking halfway down the street, Nora had just taken out her car keys when, from the corner of her eye, she noticed something. She paused, stepped back a couple of steps, noticing a thinly dressed young man huddled on the street corner. A rather familiar face. Changing direction, Nora pocketed her car keys, nonchalantly strolling towards the person squatting in the corner. She stopped in front of him. The disheveled youth, lifting his head, suddenly heard a voice— "Second Shaw, out working so early?"