This abode is decidedly spacious and luxurious, its interiors adorned with top-tier decor, its walls generously painted with expensive coats, steadfast against any trace of grime or scratches. One glimpse at this living space alone would tell the tale of its owner’s financial prowess. Laughter echoed from within, the intimate joshing of a man and woman, possibly a young married couple or lovers.
Suddenly, a phone rang, and upon glancing at the caller’s name, the man’s face shifted, becoming solemn, his hand hovering in hesitation before finally bringing the device to his ear.
From the other end, a voice, more profound, older, resonated.
“Could you grant me an appointment? I have serious matters to discuss with you.”
Sensing something of import on the horizon, he curled his lips in a mirthless smirk, responding languidly.
“Very well. If you hadn’t called today, I would have reached out. We should resolve our issues sooner rather than later.”
They were once close, yet judging by the current tone, the future seemed uncertain.
“I’ll send you the address shortly.”
Beeeep… Beeeep… Beeeep.
The droning of the disconnected call seemed particularly grating. Andrew placed the phone down, lost in contemplation, saying nothing. Agnes’s concern sparked, and she gently asked.
“He wants to meet you?”
Andrew’s eyes glowed with a furious red hue.
“If he can’t rest without knowing why he’s going to die, let’s grant him his last request.”
Upon hearing this, Agnes’s appetite vanished, leaving Hue’s once enticing bowl of steaming, aromatic beef noodles untouched.
Mr. Frank didn’t have breakfast at home that morning, leaving early. The home, just days before filled with laughter and chatter, now fell into a melancholy silence, a sense of unease blanketing the residents. Mary also left early in the morning without mentioning her destination. Mrs. Frank, wrought with worry, asked every ten minutes if Mary hadn’t called home.
Mr. Frank’s car pulled up in front of a restaurant favored by enthusiasts of Japanese tea ceremonies. He entered alone and, guided by a staff member, took up a pre-reserved room. He settled down on a prepared cushion as the tea was served. He instructed the staff to notify him when his guest arrived. His usually cheerful face bore a severe expression, starkly contrasting his usual demeanor. As he poured himself a cup of tea, he heard a sound at the door.
“Sir, your guest has arrived.”
The older man returned the teapot to its original place as the door gently swung open, revealing a young man clad in a sleek suit, his refined demeanor far from the carefree and bohemian charm the older man was accustomed to.
Andrew strode in and seated himself opposite without waiting for an invitation from Mr. Frank, an air of arrogance the older adult had never seen before.
“Why have you requested my presence today?” he asked, a hint of accusation underlying his words. “Could there be a dilemma in one’s heart?”
Mr. Frank scrutinized him. His brows knitted in a thoughtful expression before answering calmly.
“Do you fancy tea? I hold it in high esteem, for its allure is not confined to its delightful aroma. Beyond that, it proffers a wealth of health benefits, a stark contrast to the multitude of hollow trinkets that pervade our world, offering much ado about nothing in terms of value.”
Andrew glanced coldly at the pre-poured tea before him, replying tersely.
“Only that which we craft ourselves is truly the best for us, for who can assure the value of what others produce?”
Mr. Frank remained ever-patient, but at this point, he yearned to delve into the heart of the matter.
“Why did you leak the contents of the draft? Why are you trying to harm me?”
A glint of satisfaction danced in Andrew’s eyes as he observed the fuming expression etched on Mr. Frank’s face. His mischief had borne fruit, yet he continued to fan the flames of provocation.
“You should ask yourself that question. Is it the case that only those who’ve wronged others would know why they acted as they did?”
Mr. Frank frowned, feeling more perplexed by Andrew’s cryptic remarks.
“What on earth are you insinuating? Are you accusing me of wrongdoing? I could have you prosecuted for defamation.”
Andrew chuckled loudly, a deliberate move to irritate, then leaned closer, his face stern and intense.
“Do you know who I am? I am Andrew Alexander, the son of Matthew Alexander – the man who perished in that fire all those years ago. Do you understand now? Have you recalled your sins?”
Mr. Frank loosened his grip on the teacup, his hand slightly shaking, but his composure remained, not showing any signs of the scare.
“Is there some misunderstanding between us? Your father and I have been good friends since our early days in business. He was not just a partner but also a trustworthy companion. How could I possibly harm him? Who gave you such notions?”
A spark of rage ignited within Andrew, burning deep within his heart. A resentment he had harbored for years now had its chance to surface.
“Don’t try to deceive me,” he thundered, “From the moment I saw my father’s charred remains pulled from that wreckage, I vowed not to let those responsible live in peace. Did you think your deeds went unnoticed? The security guard returned that day because he had forgotten something and witnessed everything. You were the one who started that fire. You are a murderer. If you hadn’t killed my father, my mother wouldn’t have succumbed to grief and illness, and I wouldn’t be an orphan now.”
Andrew’s voice grew increasingly uncontrollable with each passing day. His round black eyes glowed fiery red, like a hundred thousand flames ablaze. Each of his glances pierced through the heart of the person opposite him like a bullet. Mr. Frank also turned up the volume in anger.
“The Youth World is mine. I created it when you were just a hungry, ignorant child. What right do you have to snatch it away from me?”
The tea was still boiling, and the gentle bubbling sound was the softest thing in the room. Andrew stared intently at the sharp eyes and wrinkled face of Mr. Frank, then spoke.
“I’m not taking anything away; I’m merely reclaiming what rightfully belongs to me and adding the interest that you’ve owed me for all these years, now that it’s due.”
Mr. Frank stood trembling and pointed directly at Andrew’s face, shouting.
“What are you planning, you little wretch? I won’t let you get away with this!”
Andrew laughed defiantly, his tone full of confidence.
“Well, what can you do? Your daughter is already infatuated with me. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“You…”
Andrew walked out of the room, and from inside came the sound of a breaking teacup, jarring to the ears. He paused and then turned away.
Just as he reached the door, the emergency responders rushed in, their sirens blaring, pounding in his head. The restaurant staff quickly guided the medical personnel inside.
Everyone cleared the way, looking at each other in confusion, not understanding what had happened.