Storm Song - Prologue

Tang Xin's voice was not loud; her hoarseness couldn't conceal her resolve, nor could her fragility hide her nascent sharpness.

In that brief moment, Jim saw a shadow overlap with Tang Xin; fierce and dazzling, Mrs. Raquel, the woman he had once admired boundlessly, who single-handedly created Winter Spring, saved the declining family's northern heavy industry, dedicated her entire life to the Winter family crest, and was considered the woman with the greatest chance of becoming the family head in Winter family history.

Mrs. Raquel was a towering tree rooted in the Winter lands. Mr. Ayin had spent his entire life trying to step out of his mother's shadow, to develop his own prestige and power. If not for the fact that this young girl named Tang Xin had no blood relation to the Winter family,

Jim would have thought Mrs. Raquel's will had truly manifested in this delicate girl.

"What is your ultimate goal?" Possessed by a strange impulse, Jim didn't push the door open but asked this question, his tone more respectful than his previous flippancy.

Once, he had asked Mrs. Raquel a similar question, but she had merely smiled, and he never truly received an answer.

"I want to gather branches and build an Eden for everyone, free from sorrow."

This was Tang Xin's reply. The girl spoke reservedly, formally, like a fledgling on a cliff's edge, cautiously flapping its wings before the vast, distant sky. Her peaceful eyes held no light of yearning, but rather a hidden seed of ambition to conquer the storm.

Jim was deeply disappointed by this answer.

Even if she had spoken childishly about wanting to become the next female head of the Winter family, he would have felt that the master he was to follow was a pragmatic individual, not a naive "white spider lily" with only empty ideals in her head.

Ultimately, she was still far from Mrs. Raquel.

"I know this answer might be disappointing, making me seem naive and overestimating myself, but could you give me a little more time?" Tang Xin suddenly spoke, interrupting Jim's thoughts.

Jim hadn't expected the girl's mind to be so delicate and sharp, guessing his current thoughts from mere subtle details.

"I won't use ornate, poetic words to describe my ideals; they are too hollow. In the days to come,

I will show those who follow me the actions I take for my ideals. Just give me a little more time," Tang Xin said, lowering her gaze.

She could borrow allusions from many operas to embellish her ideals for others, making them seem profound and grand, such as "Journey to Hell," "The Great Expedition of Salivia," or "Storm Song." The protagonists in these operas were all in situations similar to hers now, yet they were ultimately just characters in operas, illusory and ethereal, reflections of great artists sitting elegantly in grand halls, dressed splendidly—a morbid portrayal of the Star of Art.

Those who haven't experienced hardship are not qualified to praise greatness found within it. She would personally endure more suffering, allowing her soul to grow flesh and bone, just as, during the storm, seeing herself covered in wounds and fallen in a pool of blood, she was deeply drawn to that breathtaking beauty.

Jim opened the door for Tang Xin, pushing the girl's wheelchair into the family's world.

In the center of the bright, spacious room stood a round table. Opposite it sat a cynical blond youth, behind whom stood three burly bodyguards. On Tang Xin's side, an elderly man with an aged appearance scrutinized the blue-haired girl in the wheelchair.

"Yo, Sevia, I wonder if you still remember me. I was there when that woman led you into the Winter family's grand estate a long time ago. You were so tiny and pathetic back then, hiding behind her..."

"Cousin Victor, let's stop with such talk," Tang Xin said calmly.

The youth named Victor showed some displeasure at being interrupted. He propped his legs high onto the table, snapped his fingers, and a burly bodyguard beside him handed over two thick contract books.

Taking the contracts, Victor casually tossed one in front of Tang Xin. "Take a look. If there are no issues, sign it quickly."

The youth's disdain and arrogance were unconcealed, yet Tang Xin's expression remained unchanged. She opened the contract book and glanced at it. Before Jim could even offer a reminder, she spoke, "I cannot accept most of the clauses in this contract."

"Especially the tyrannical clause regarding a new vote for chairman change and the reallocation of the former chairman's shares based on equity proportion. If Cousin Victor can only offer this much sincerity, I don't think there's any need to continue our discussion today."

"Ha!?" Victor raised his voice, overriding Tang Xin's. "Are you bargaining with me, my dear little Sevia? Have you not understood the situation? It's my old man who's interested in your little broken media company that's giving you this opportunity."

"No one knows if that bastard Xu is alive or dead right now. Are you trying to protect her last rights?" Victor had no good impression of Xu Xiaoyou; her rise to power was built on his painful experiences. "Come on, do you really think you're that important to that profit-obsessed scoundrel?"

"She won't return to the Star of Art, never! Why do you think those hyenas lurking in the shadows chose this exact moment to pounce and carve up Dream-Chaser Media's big cake?"

"As I see it, the only valuable thing in Dream-Chaser Media right now is you. Those hundreds of artists are just side commodities. But my lovely little blue bird, daughter of the stars, look at you now. Your sleeves can't hide the wounds on your arms, and you're still in a wheelchair."

"Victor," Tang Xin frowned.

The youth spread his hands indifferently, as if not noticing the girl's intent.

"Do you truly think you have any value? Be glad you can even speak again. If you lose your identity as a starry singer, do you think the family will open its doors to you?"

"You'll just be swept out of the family like that dirty, disgusting woman, cursed and ridiculed by countless people, understand!?"

Tang Xin closed her eyes, her judgment undisturbed by such simple words. Jim, who wanted to speak, was also rudely interrupted by the youth.

"Victor."

At this moment, the elderly man who had remained silent all along suddenly spoke. Only then did everyone notice the calm-mannered old man. Old Quel's back was ramrod straight, his hands clasped in front of him, looking exactly like an old butler. He merely cast a faint glance at the youth, causing the latter to instinctively shut his mouth.

"I forgot to introduce him, Young Miss. This is Old Quel. He's a retired soldier from Universal Heavy Industries, and he used to work for Mr. Ayin. Mr. Ayin sent him and me here to assist you. You can always find Old Quel if anything comes up later," Jim said, choosing this moment to introduce him, deliberately raising his voice.

Victor, who had been arrogant moments before, visibly changed his expression upon hearing Old Quel's name. Of course, he had heard about the old hound by Ayin's side who specialized in handling unsavory matters. No wonder he hadn't noticed this old fellow earlier;

The other party had concealed his presence.

A faint, almost imperceptible killing intent lurked in the old man's eyes, a cold sharpness like a keen blade. Only someone who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood would possess such a gaze, and it hadn't diminished in the slightest even with age.

Damn Ayin. So he truly valued this nominal daughter of his, even assigning his confidant to her side. What a joke!