Sitting next to the window of his mansion, Qin Chuan inhaled the scent of oak which was mixed in with the aroma of the coffee in his hand. He eyed the unmoving dangling leaves as he sat there like a painted picture, straight and silent. He immediately wondered where the wind was.
Why would the wind leave the tree?
"It didn't," he muttered to himself after he took a sip from his hot coffee. Straightening his back, Qin Chuan eyed the picture frame on top of his table. It was a picture of him and Su Ma. Slowly, his face turned grim. Frowning, Qin Chuan finished his coffee before he stood up to get the frame from the table.
That woman was a fake, he thought as he held the frame tighter.
"CRACK"
