The night of his parent's death marked the beginning of a flower's bud.

It was late at night. The thoughts of his parent's death had penetrated the moon and made it indistinguishable. The moon that he always thought as the most serene and placid thing, but then it was unsettling as ever. He had nowhere to rest his turmoil mood, no expressive emotions to pin on. Feeling the unfamiliar remoteness and seclusion of the night sky, Sy was filled with the sadness of the air, the grief of his existence, and the world's sadness wrapped in blue. No matter how high he turned up the temperature, his feelings of neverending coldness could not be dissolved.

The withered happiness enveloped the moist air's bitterness, and he felt old for the first time in his lively youth. Maybe the smoke and clouds of the incident were too thick and suppressed his youth's frivolousness, turning it into endless sadness.

"Sy? Are you there?" A voice echoed in the grand hallway near the master's bedroom, but it was yet just another pain evoking memories and thoughts of who should be there—Mr. and Mrs. They were not. Only the back of a helpless young boy was present, burying his head into his elbows and murmuring obscure words.

"Sy. I know you feel sad and desperate and hopeless and all sorts of feelings at this moment. I understand. Mr and Mrs are in a better place now. I know how you despise every scene reminding you of the incident, but this is only the beginning. As the heir of the family, you will take your father's role as the patriarch. You have no other choice. Every branch of the family is eager to replace you. Please think this through."

"GO AWAY! GET OUT!" the young boy's anger was directed at the girl's sympathetic face and gestures as she reminded him of his mother. Note that his sights were blurred with the tears of solicitude and remorse. He was seeing everything in relation to his parents.

As he pictured out the upcoming scene—the girl running away with extreme panic and afraid of the consequences from angering the house head—the girl did the exact opposite. Her expressions remain unchanged, her tenacious posture stiffened as if she was overcame with determination.

Sy felt the warmth of a small hand on his shoulder. At his unexpectedness, the thick tears fell out of his eyes like loose pearls falling out of a fragile strand of necklace line, uncontrollable and in everywhere.

But the warmth of his sun began there and then.

When you feel dejected, and in extreme misery, when you feel hopeless and wistful, the warmth of friendship could temporarily cure you with a small fire. But when you chase this warmth and unconsciously ask for more, the bond between the two could become ambiguous, unclear, uncertain, tentative. It could perhaps turn into something else, something far more incomprehensible but refined: love.

It was Charlotte who transformed his iceberg into a grand fire that grew to eventually becoming a ball of light, a ball of sunshine, the warmth of his heart. It was Charlotte who made him see the vastness of his bright future when he could only see the end of it.

Though they faced many difficulties that almost deemed insurmountable — Charlotte would refuse to acknowledge her feelings for Sy because of her awareness on their social differences, Sy would get frustrated at Charlotte's true emotions and his own feelings, and then they would torture each other with flippant attitudes for some psychological reasons — they eventually ended up marrying in a small town, which was owned by Sy but as only a minor component of his massive wealth.

They lived happily ever after, or not. Sy's lack of judgement and blind love toward Charlotte caused him to completely miss the point.

It happened on that day of his car accident, pretty weird considering his status and security level, but that was what happened. It was just a bluff though, the thing was, Charlotte wasn't Charlotte anymore on that night when she rushed to the hospital to see him.

Actually, Charlotte wasn't even Charlotte to begin with. She was another girl with System, just like Clarice. She was there to do her assignment.