Zhuifeng Takes the Order for You

The blue taxi stopped steadily in front of the Marriott International Building. The glass curtain wall reflected the bright lights, making the four gilded characters of "Marriott International" seem to float in the night sky.

Rachel's fingertips trembled as she held the phone. The deep voice from the other end seemed to be soaked in ice, tightening her neck instinctively.

In the passenger seat, 5-year-old Cora was curled up into a small ball, the blanket sliding to her waist, revealing her little arms like tender lotus roots. After Rachel drove for a customer at three in the morning, she hadn't wanted to wake her daughter, so she let her spend the night in the car.

The moment the car door opened, a blast of cold air with a faint cedar scent rushed inside.

The man stepped out—dark handmade suit, shoulders straight and sharp as a blade. The sound of his leather shoes striking the marble floor carried a restrained arrogance.

Rachel hurriedly got out to open the back door. When she looked up, she met a pair of cold black eyes, and her throat tightened. His features looked sculpted from ice by masterful hands—sharp brows, thin pressed lips, and even the shadows cast by his lashes carried an aura that warned people to keep their distance.

"Go to RK Bar."

Kellan sat down with the elegance of someone born noble. But when he caught a glimpse of the little girl in the passenger seat, his eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

Cora's little face looked as if it were soaked in milk, her eyelashes casting butterfly-like shadows beneath her eyes. There were still dried milk stains at the corner of her lips. Bandari's *Dream of Snow* floated through the stereo, the clear piano notes merging seamlessly into the melody of that rainy night five years ago—when he'd been drunk in the presidential suite and, in a daze, caught the warm body that stumbled in. When he woke up, the only thing left was a faint cold scent.

The taxi started smoothly. Rachel's fingertips unconsciously rubbed the steering wheel. In the rearview mirror, she saw Kellan closing his eyes to rest. The cufflinks on his sleeves gleamed faintly, but they couldn't hide the thin calluses on his knuckles—the kind formed from holding guns for many years.

She suddenly remembered a wealthy customer she drove last night pointing at a financial magazine and saying, "This is Kellan from the Elliott Group, the most difficult person to mess with in the whole of Blackwood City."

Soon, they arrived at RK Bar.

"Sir, you're here." Rachel spoke softly, as if afraid to disturb a dream.

Kellan opened his eyes and realized he had fallen asleep—without sleeping pills—for the first time in five years. His gaze landed on the short-haired woman in the driver's seat. When she turned her head, the red mole on her neck stood out like a drop of blood falling onto snow, making his heartbeat stumble for a moment.

"You slept soundly," Rachel said with a faint dimple under the streetlight. "You should take care of yourself even if you're busy."

Kellan glanced at her ID as he got out. Rachel Allen. The name shone under the streetlight.

Did the woman who disappeared five years ago… also have such clear eyes?

He suddenly regretted not looking at her more that morning—so much that even his memory of her had blurred into nothing more than a shadow.

**Five years ago.**

The neon lights of the Blues Bar twisted into strange spots of light in the rainy night. When Rachel was dragged across the dance floor by Nora, her high heels almost sprained her ankle. In the deafening music, her cousin's voice was sweet and sticky: "Sister, just have a drink to celebrate your admission to university."

The cocktail handed to her was pink and seductive under the light, but she didn't see the glances Nora exchanged with the man next to her when she turned around.

After the third drink, the world began to spin. Rachel walked towards the bathroom, holding onto the wall, and heard a low voice coming from the cubicle: "Room 1201, the person is already drunk, hurry up."

Cold water splashed on her face did not sober her up, and she stumbled into the emergency passage. The voice-activated lights in the stairwell flickered, illuminating the camera that the man had taken out at the corner.

"Help!"

She instinctively pushed open the nearest door and bumped into a hard chest in the dark. The man's body temperature came through his shirt, mixed with the crisp smell of cedar, which was very similar to the sandalwood in her grandfather's study when she was a child. Before she lost consciousness, she heard herself mumbling: "Water... I'm so thirsty..."

When she woke up again, the sun was coming in through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting golden lines on the snow-white sheets. Rachel felt sore all over, and saw the labels of high-end custom-made clothes on the scattered clothes. There was a half-full glass of ice water on the bedside, and water droplets were condensed on the wall of the glass—it turned out that the "cool thing" she touched last night was the glass of water he handed her.

She didn't dare look back at the man on the bed. She put on her clothes hastily and ran out, her high heels tapping out a panic rhythm in the corridor. It was not until she got into the taxi that she found a red mark on her neck, like a mark of someone biting her gently. In the rearview mirror, the hotel logo gradually blurred in the morning mist, just like the man's face, which would eventually become a secret hidden in her heart.

Present day.

Five years later, Cora's childish voice brought her back to reality: "Mommy, that uncle looks like Dad."

Rachel looked at the tall figure gradually receding in the rearview mirror, and thought of the blank column of "Father unknown" on Cora's birth certificate. The freckles on the tip of her daughter's nose sparkled under the streetlight, just like the diamonds on Kellan's cufflinks last night—if the man knew that he had a daughter who would chase luxury cars and shout "Dad," what would his expression be?

The fluorescent lights in the car rental yard were buzzing, and when Rachel took the car keys, Baker's whistle was like a thorn piercing her eardrum. The bald man always glanced at her collar with greasy eyes, and today he deliberately raised his voice: "Miss Allen has an order from Marriott International today, maybe you can catch a rich husband."

She pretended not to hear, but when she started the car, she remembered Cora's dream last night when she leaned on the car window: "If we can't find Dad, we can find that handsome uncle, okay?"

The world of children is so simple that it makes people sad. She could only smile and ruffle her daughter's curly hair: "Save money to buy a car of our own first, so that Dad can find us more easily."

---

At the entrance of Marriott International, Kellan walked out of the revolving door in a white suit. The wind lifted a corner of his shirt, revealing the cufflinks of his custom-made shirt. This time it was a diamond-studded Suzaku, exactly the same as the one in the presidential suite five years ago.

Rachel's breath missed a beat until Cora suddenly screamed, "Dad, you're so handsome!"

The carriage froze instantly.

Kellan raised his eyebrows and looked at the passenger seat. The little girl was clinging to the seat, her eyes shining like stars: "You look like the prince in my painting!" She had just drawn an "ideal dad" in kindergarten yesterday. In the crooked lines, there was a tall man wearing a neat suit, his cuffs gleaming.

Rachel's face flushed red, and she hurriedly explained, "The child is just talking nonsense..."

But when she looked up, she met Kellan's eyes—he was staring at Cora, and his dark eyes were filled with tenderness that he himself didn't even notice. This man who made the whole business world tremble, at this moment, raised the corner of his lips towards the child, although it was only a very shallow arc, but it made the temperature in the car rise quietly.

When the car arrived at the destination, Kellan suddenly said before getting off the car: "Your daughter is very cute."

Rachel was stunned, watching him walk towards the brightly lit building, his back overlapping with the blurry figure in the rainy night five years ago. It was not until Cora tugged at the corner of her clothes that she realized that her nails had dug into her palms—when he was talking just now, the Suzaku cufflinks on his sleeves were facing the sunlight, and the refracted spots of light fell on the ends of Cora's hair, just like the ripples on the surface of the glass of ice water on the bedside table back then.

Rachel was rarely disturbed by a man, and she felt like she was in a mess. Perhaps this man's aura was too strong.

Kellan looked at the call log and called his secretary. "Onyx, the number is 181*****. Rachel Allen. Check this woman immediately."

*"Fate brought us together in troubled times..."*

Rachel's phone rang as she was busy with her work.

Rachel was working at a mansion coffee shop, and her colleague Aunt Fisher had taken the day off, leaving Rachel to handle all the cleaning tasks upstairs and downstairs by herself.

As she worked, she picked up her old Nokia phone and answered the call. "Hello, this is Rachel from the mansion coffee shop. Who is this?"

"Rachel, it's your uncle," came a familiar yet unfamiliar voice of a middle-aged man on the other end of the line.

Uncle Grady!

She froze, half-bent over, in the middle of mopping the floor. She didn't expect him to call—they hadn't been in touch for a long time. Was there something wrong?

The memories of her past, buried deep in her heart, resurfaced.

**Years ago.**

Rachel's father was a stepfather, and she took her mother's surname. Her parents divorced when she was very young, and she grew up with her grandfather. When her grandfather passed away, Rachel was only eight years old. He entrusted her to Uncle Grady, who treated her like his own daughter. Rachel also regarded him as her father.

But after that incident, she had a knot in her heart.

Years ago, Grady's daughter Nora had deceived her, causing Rachel to lose her virginity, become pregnant, and be subjected to scorn. When Grady found out about her unwed pregnancy, he didn't even know who the father was. He was ashamed and angry.

"How can you be so shameless? I raised you, and you've brought shame upon me," Grady said, slapping Rachel hard across the face.

Rachel was caught off guard and fell to the ground. Her face swelled up, and her head buzzed.

After a while, Rachel finally came to her senses. She sat up and curled up in her own arms, sobbing softly.

She didn't know why she was so foolish to believe that Nora went to the bar with her. Nora always liked to tease her, why did she believe her? She just didn't think Nora could be so malicious.

How could she explain it? Could she say that Nora tricked her into going to the bar, got her drunk, and took her to a room upstairs? Would her uncle believe her? Even if he did, what then? She was now pregnant and the one with a tarnished reputation.

Rachel couldn't find a way out of her heartache. Her nails dug deep into her palms, but she still couldn't feel the pain. The voices in her ears were even more piercing, like a knife stabbing into her heart.

"Like your mother, so cheap, you've lost all face. How can we face people in the future?" Queenie, Rachel's aunt, sneered at her as she glared at Rachel on the ground.

She wished she could kick her out right now. Rachel asked herself, why was her heart hurting so much? She thought she had a strong armor that could shield her from these cold words, as long as her uncle still loved her, it would be enough.

Nora was hiding behind the door, watching the show. She used to have her grandfather protecting her and everything good was given to Rachel, and only what she didn't want was given to her. Later, when Rachel came to the house, her father also loved Rachel very much. The love that was originally hers was taken away by Rachel, and Nora was unhappy. She teased Rachel openly and secretly.

But this was the first time her father had ever hit her, and it really hurt her deeply. Grady was a very proud person, and Rachel had always been a well-behaved and filial child. Now that something like this had happened, how could he not be heartbroken? But when he saw Rachel curled up there crying, he felt heartbroken again.

"Go get rid of that wild child in a couple of days." Grady shook his head, sighed, and walked away.

Rachel stared at her uncle's departing figure in shock, tears streaming down her face.

Her uncle had referred to the baby as a wild child, not a bastard. Did he always think of her as a wild child deep down?

Now he was only angry that she had embarrassed him, not that she had been taken advantage of by someone else! No one cared that she was sad and helpless to the point of wanting to die.

Her world was crumbling bit by bit. She had felt so helpless and scared at the time, but who would care?

Her father, her mother, and now even her uncle didn't like her. No one in this world liked her!

Nora was even more annoyed to see her father leave like this. Her own father would beat her to death if she had done something like this, but he was only treating Rachel like this.

Rachel was just a wild child that her parents didn't want and had sent to live with them! Nora felt jealous and couldn't help but want to speak up.

But then she saw Rachel's murderous gaze.

Rachel really wanted to stab Nora with a knife and dig out her heart to see if it was black.

She was her sister!!! Why could she treat her like this?!

But Nora was her uncle's only daughter!

Nora was scared and swallowed the words that were about to come out, but she smirked as if she had won a battle.

Rachel stumbled out of the door, not knowing where to go. The road ahead was so long, and Nora's laughter was so piercing.

She moved out of her uncle's house and dropped out of school to rent a house outside.

She had considered getting an abortion. After all, she was only eighteen, so young with a bright future ahead of her. But Rachel couldn't bring herself to do it. The baby growing inside her was a part of her, and despite her young age, Rachel could feel her presence. It was a miraculous feeling.

She didn't have a father, but she had a mother! Rachel was determined to be there for her baby, unlike her own mother, Ophelia. She wanted to love her unborn child just like her grandfather had loved her. She would be her own flesh and blood.

And so, Rachel began her life as a working mother. As time passed, Cora grew up, and Rachel no longer harbored any resentment towards her uncle. He had only done what he thought was best for her.

**Present day.**

Thinking back on those memories, tears welled up in Rachel's eyes. "Oh, Uncle, is there something you need?" she asked, trying to hide her emotions.

"Are you doing well?" His voice was gentle, but there was a hint of hesitation and concern.

"I'm doing fine. I work for a big company now, as a white-collar worker. The job is easy, the pay is good, and the benefits are great." Rachel smiled, but her eyes were dim.

It was the job of her dreams!

"What about the little one? Is she doing well?" Her uncle hesitated for a moment before asking.

"Cora? She's doing great. She's well-behaved and obedient."

"That's good to hear, that's good to hear," said the uncle with relief. He was happy for her when she said she was doing well.

"Well... will you come back for your grandfather's anniversary next month?" The uncle paused and asked.

"Grandpa!"

The mention of her grandpa made Rachel's heart ache even more, and memories from deep within flooded back, becoming clearer and clearer.

Since she could remember, her grandpa was the only one by her side. She only knew about her parents from what others told her. Her mother, Ophelia, was beautiful but lazy, with high expectations and low abilities. She wanted to marry a wealthy man, but ended up with a son-in-law introduced by her grandpa.

Her mother looked down on her father and they often fought. Later, her mother left with another man and they got divorced. After the divorce, her father took all the valuable things in the house and left. Her mother also went to another city and never came back. Rachel was only two years old at the time.

When she was young, her grandpa was very good to her, so good that she felt it didn't matter if she had parents or not. Nora was even jealous of her. She had the best food and clothes, and could eat any fruit or snack she wanted.

However, many children in the neighborhood still looked down on her and called her a wild child that nobody wanted because her father didn't want her and her mother didn't love her. Rachel got into fights with other kids because of this.

"Don't listen to them. Grandpa wants you," her grandpa would always say, feeling sorry for her when he saw her bruised and swollen face.

"Yeah, I have grandpa," she would reply with a smile, not wanting to make her grandpa worry.

Thinking of her grandpa, Rachel's eyes became moist. She wiped them casually and said, "I'll see when the time comes."

She missed her grandpa very much, but she didn't want to go back on the anniversary of his death. She didn't want her grandpa to see her in her current state, nor did she know how to face her uncle.

Uncle didn't even know that it was Nora who drugged her.

"Well, take care of yourself and come back to visit more often. Uncle's house is also your home," Grady emphasized.

"Okay, thank you," Rachel felt warm inside hearing her uncle say that.

After hanging up the phone, Rachel felt a little uneasy.

"Rachel, what's wrong with you? Why isn't this coffee cup clean?" The store manager, Barrett, frowned unhappily.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Rachel immediately apologized when she heard that the plate wasn't clean.

She was indeed a little distracted just now.

Rachel looked up, reached out her hands, and took the snow-white coffee cup from Barrett's hand. There was a slight stain on the handle, which was not noticeable if one didn't look closely.

But they were one of the top high-end coffee shops in Blackwood City, and everything had to be spotlessly clean.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Rachel lowered her head in embarrassment.