Chapter 629 My Violin Plays Only For You (Part One)

You should never rely on others easily because once you get used to someone's support, you'll lose not only a companion but also your spiritual pillar when they depart.

*

The golden hues of the setting sun gradually fell behind the lines of high-rise buildings in the city skyline as twilight descended, casting soft shadows on the pavement. Amidst the twinkling lights of the bright street lamps and signage, the passing headlights of cars swiftly driving by formed river-like streams of light as they drove on the road. Shops lit up their signs and colored the streets in spattering hues of bright neon.

It was a peaceful, regular night in one modern but homey cake shop on the street. The staff greeted customers politely and some of the regulars chatted with them for a bit. In a table tucked discreetly in one corner by the window, Molly was gripping her coffee cup quite tightly that her knuckles were going white. She blankly stared at the plate with a rather delectable looking red velvet cake in front of her as she waited for Spark to say something.

Across the table sat Spark, a faint smile gracing his lips as he gazed at her with his deep amber eyes. The look on his face still carried the same air of arrogance he always had when he and Molly first met in that underground passage.

"So… care to explain what you did?" Molly spat viciously, running out of patience for the man sitting across her. Her gaze was fixed on Spark's face as patches of red began to color her neck and face in anger.

Spark only shrugged, the corner of his lips curling slightly upward and he glanced at the scenery outside for a bit. He turned back to his companion, slightly stretched his folded arms on the table and casually said, "Mol, what on earth do you want me to explain to you?"

"Spark!"

Molly loudly hissed, her eyes blazing with fury. She didn't care if she was being loud that somebody might hear. Distress briefly but visibly flashed in Spark's eyes but he quickly brushed it off as if he wasn't anxious in the slightest bit. He was intensely bitter at Molly's words and his heart felt heavy. Except for a few public occasions, Molly never called him out in such a dismal tone. This could only mean that she was really furious at this moment. Spark shifted slightly in his seat as he sat deep in thought.

Casting a brief look at Spark's slender fingers, Molly ground her teeth and emphasiz

Falling from nobility, Zen Luo became a humble slave and served as a human punchbag for his former cousins. Inadvertently, he found a way to refine himself into a weapon and a legend started because of that. With a strong belief in never surrender, he strove for revenges and pursued big dreams. Warriors from various clans contended for hegemony and the world was stirred. Relying on the body that was comparable to a powerful weapon, Zen beat his numerous enemies on his way to the immortality. Would he succeed eventually?

did she?

After mulling it over and recollecting himself, Brian took out his phone and dialed Molly's number. The phone kept ringing but no one answered. Brian was exasperated as he repeatedly called Molly's number but to no avail. His half-lidded eyes gradually looked heavier.

In that exact moment, silence enveloped the changing room of the Sasha Music Troupe as Molly's phone vibrated continuously on the sofa. The phone's screen repeatedly flashed "Call from Brian" but the Silent Mode icon was displayed.

Brian continued calling her number again and again, although to be honest he didn't know why he did. After several more unsuccessful attempts, he eventually stopped and returned the device back to his pocket. He turned around and left Molly's room before he could get more frustrated, not even bothering to close the door.

When he got downstairs, he proceeded to the expansive kitchen's mini-bar and grabbed a bottle of wine and a wine glass, then poured himself a drink. He picked up the glass by its stem and stood in front of the French windows, his other hand in his pocket and staring at the scenery outside--or more specifically, at the gates of the villa.

The street was quiet and undisturbed as Lisa walked up to the house, carrying some glass bottles of milk in a carton delivered by the milkman. She got inside the property and closed the gates as she balanced the carton of milk precariously in one arm. When she stepped inside the house, she was surprised to see Brian, and not Molly, standing by the windows. She greeted him with respect, "Good evening, Mr. Brian Long."