Inside the private garden.
The woman stood beside the white camellias, her figure slender, her eyes quietly serene—a graceful oval face.
Her features were originally radiant and bold, yet her cool demeanor diluted the vivid beauty of her outline.
Sean Wallace had burst into Adrian Shaw's place years ago, catching them in a relationship, and waxed lyrical about her hidden depths.
So strikingly beautiful, and yet flawlessly disguised.
The hazy glow from the stone lantern draped over Serena Stanton like a veil of silk, effortlessly luminous.
Adrian Shaw watched her, unwavering, the darkness in his gaze slow and bottomless.
After four or five seconds, Serena turned to leave, her earring swinging out a pale arc of silver.
Like a needle, piercing sharply into Adrian's retina.
Cameron Quinn, across the board, dropped a white stone. Seeing Adrian unmoving, he followed his gaze and caught a glimpse of the distant figure.
"Interested?"
Adrian sat in a huanghuali wood chair, broad shoulders upright, the rugged lines of his form narrowing at the waist, then extending into two long legs wrapped in dark trousers.
He withdrew his gaze without a hint of reaction, picked up a cool black stone between his fingers and placed it down, unhurried and composed.
The black stone tapped onto the sandalwood board, his response as measured as his moves.
"Familiar face."
"I asked if you're interested, and you tell me she looks familiar." Cameron Quinn lowered his head, his hand stroking the white jade stone pausing for a moment, the folds at his eyes deepening with a sudden smile.
"Black can slay the dragon in move 127—you're dragging it out, letting this old man win on purpose?"
"Back when you sparred with the crowd at the Supreme Court, you were far more charming than now." Adrian replied.
With mention of his glory days, Cameron Quinn laughed heartily: "Those were a long time ago, but you remember so well. You, just like your father, sentimental!"
"Am I?"
Adrian drew his lips lazily into a half-smile, the ease of a seasoned strategist evident in every gesture.
*
After joining Bridgeway Law Firm, Serena once visited Elder Quinn with Jasper Grant, coincidentally bumping into Lauren Sutton—herself visiting her mentor.
It was then she learned her supervisor Lauren was Cameron Quinn's prized protégé.
With layered connections and interests at play, Serena and Lauren's relationship became closer than most typical colleagues.
In the dazzling hall, a century-old fireplace and porcelain sculptures lent elegant atmosphere; guests scattered across the grand space, chatting and laughing, merry and poised.
Serena entered as Lauren stood smiling beside the artistic carved wooden staircase, deep in conversation.
The woman was poised and graceful, scholarly charm at the corners of her eyes and brows—clearly Joanna Young, the accomplished eldest daughter of the Young Family.
Serena paused for a second, then composedly walked toward Lauren.
Seeing her, Lauren and Joanna concluded their conversation: "Serena's here, we'll talk again next time."
Joanna glanced at Serena from afar, smiling gently, before she turned and ascended the stairs.
Lauren took measure of Serena for a moment, then mused, "Joanna said you remind her of her younger sister, but I can't see it."
Joanna's sister: the Young Family's second daughter, Tiana Young.
Serena blinked, feigning seriousness: "Really? Maybe it's because we both have noses, eyes, and mouths."
"You say that as if there's someone without a nose, eyes, or mouth." Lauren retorted. "Funny no one ever says I look like you."
Serena replied deftly, "Perhaps Lawyer Sutton's aura is too strong—no one dares make such a comparison lightly."
Lauren laughed: "Joanna's sister surely isn't as eloquent as you."
"Well, she certainly doesn't have a supervisor like you, or she'd have learned quickly enough."
"Oh? Complaining that I'm too strict?"
"Wouldn't dare." Serena smiled, "I mean to praise Lauren's skillful guidance."
Lauren chuckled, not prolonging the topic, and changed direction: "Come on, let's go see Elder Quinn."
They pushed open the glass door, wove through a rose-planted path of pebbles in the garden, conversing briskly as they walked to the tea room.
Step inside, and before seeing him, Elder Quinn's hearty laughter was already audible.
Cameron Quinn, revered and nearly seventy, remained spirited, a mentor unmoved by fame and fortune.
The air carried the tea fragrance of Wyvernfell's mother bush Da Hong Pao—auctioned for over a million yuan per ounce.
Serena and Lauren passed the semi-translucent carved rosewood screen, entered past the divider, and saw Elder Quinn seated before the board.
Opposite him was a man tall and poised, utterly relaxed, doing nothing at all yet carrying a powerful presence.
Long fingers resting on the sandalwood board, joints clear, his cuffs rolled up carelessly, revealing a sharply defined wrist bone.
Pale hands with blue veins raised like distant mountains, winding upward and fading under the cuff, radiating a barely contained intensity.
Serena's gaze flickered; as she looked up, Adrian lazily lifted his eyes to meet hers.
Just like that, she collided, unguarded, with the depths of his gaze.
Their eyes met.
Serena's heart skipped half a beat.
Why him?
"Teacher Quinn." Lauren greeted her mentor, offering well wishes of prosperity and longevity. "With your energy, I bet you'll last another hundred years."
Cameron Quinn laughed aloud, pointing at her: "That mouth of yours—always the charmer."
Lauren: "No charm—just speaking the truth."
Serena shifted her gaze at the right moment, facing Cameron Quinn with an impeccable smile: "Uncle Quinn, happy birthday."
"Serena's here too?" Cameron's smile deepened, "Good, good, thoughtful of you both."
He returned the white stone to the box, his expression peaceful yet dignified.
"Perfect, let me introduce you."
With that, Lauren glanced at the languid, unrestrained young gentleman and, in tacit harmony, prompted, "Mr. Shaw, I've heard much about you."
"I'm Lauren Sutton from Bridgeway Law Firm."
Then she introduced Serena, "This is Serena Stanton, attorney in our cross-border investment department."
Out in public, Serena was adept at masking, cordial and well-liked, naturally unflustered—even when facing her former lover.
Following Lauren's cue, she calmed herself and offered a polite smile: "Mr. Shaw."
Her voice was distinct—not the crisp sweetness of typical young women. Instead, it carried a subtle, mature allure, like a glass of aged red wine glowing with ruby light.
Adrian glanced at her, nonchalantly acknowledging the greeting.
His gaze lingered on Serena for less than half a second, likely not even registering her face.
Once more, they found themselves in the same space, but as if separated by time itself.
Between them stretched innumerable shards of sharp, jagged glass.
No room for avoidance.
Cameron Quinn's gaze shifted briefly between Serena and Adrian, suddenly recalling something:
"If I remember right, didn't you attend the same high school?"