Blair had heard about Wesley long before they met. Everyone thought he was a hero. In Blair's eyes,
he was a superhero.
Blair was luckier than Wesley's other fans because her uncle was his superior. A few loving words were
all it took, and her uncle told her anything she wanted to know about the man she had a crush on.
Even so, Blair had never asked her uncle to introduce her. She believed in fate, and somehow, she
firmly believed that they would eventually be together.
Shock of shocks, she was right. She met him not long after.
But their first meeting was not a fun one.
That year, Blair was nineteen years old and Wesley was twenty-three.
Blair was a college student, and her college was in the same city as her home. But she seldom came
home. Whenever she did, she always saw her parents fighting.
But sometimes, she had to come home. Just like today.
It was the holidays. Her roommates all went home. Blair stood in front of the villa with a small suitcase.
It was a beautiful villa, but hardly warm.
She typed in the code at the entrance. "Beep!" The door to the villa opened.
"Look at you! I'm sick of you! Why did you come back? Get out of here!" a woman shrieked—she was
Blair's mom, Grace Ji. Blair sighed helplessly as she realized that her mom was yelling at her dad
again.
Judging from her name, you could tell that Grace Ji's parents wanted her to be a graceful woman.
And she worked to live up to that name. Even now, she was soft and elegant in public. Everyone
believed that her name reflected her inner beauty.
But she was a totally different woman in front of Jacob Jing, Blair's father.
Blair knew why—it was because of life.
Life had ground her kind-hearted and gentle mom down. She became bitter and angry.
Blair put on her slippers and entered the living room. Before she could greet her parents, she heard a
loud bang and flames sprang up to the ceiling.
By the way, Jacob Jing was a Professor of Chemistry, but his degree hadn't made him much money.
The man couldn't stand his wife any longer, and couldn't see any other way out. He decided to destroy
himself along with her.
The explosive was homemade. After all, he was good at chemistry. Blair couldn't tell the police what the
man used, or how he'd done it. Her dad might have been a chemistry genius, but she didn't inherit any
of his skill or natural talent.
Later, the police told her that this was suicide. Her father brought explosives home, in an attempt to kill
his wife and himself.
In the explosion, Blair flew backwards, hitting the living room wall. She was knocked senseless. When
she opened her eyes again, every bone in her body ached.
The villa was a mess—flames and debris everywhere. Her parents' faces were contorted in pain, their
mouths open. But Blair couldn't hear anything but a powerful ringing in her ears.
The explosion had robbed her of her hearing.
She wanted to rush in and save her parents, but the blazing fire ripped through the whole villa. She
tried, and was forced back by the heat.
'I must do something, ' she thought.
She wanted to call the fire department, but she couldn't find her phone. Probably it didn't matter
anyway, because she couldn't hear anything they might ask her.
"Dad! Mom!" Her head went blank. She could do nothing but call them.
Even though she could hear nothing, she still called out at the top of her lungs, "Dad! Mom!"
Suddenly, she saw a figure burst into view, barreling through the fire and wreckage. It was her dad,
wreathed in flames. He wore an expression of extreme pain—but paradoxically, also, relief.
Blair lay on the floor, unable to move.
She saw him mouth to her, "Run! Run!"
Blair shook her head; she just couldn't run for her life. This was everything she ever knew, and now she
watched it burn before her.
The fire alarm in the villa kept ringing. It was, after all, a high-class housing estate. Soon, a crowd
gathered outside the villa.
Ignoring the pain, Blair struggled to stand and stagger towards her parents.
They were already swallowed by the fire. As she moved, she felt a sharp pain. Her hand flew to the
wound instinctively. She felt something sharp and withdrew her hand, her head turning to look. A sharp
piece of metal was lodged in her arm, and blood flowed freely down her sleeve, dyeing it a wet crimson
color.
At this moment, she realized that if she didn't leave the villa now, she might never be able to.
But she didn't want to live if her parents were dead.
People on the ground were throwing rocks through the windows, trying to help anyone who might be
trapped in there. Blair wanted to go to the kitchen to help put out the fire, but the temperature was too
high. She felt like she had been walking forever, but she'd only covered a short distance.
Her face was burning hot, and her clothes were drenched in sweat.
The air was thick with acrid smoke from the fire. She didn't know what to do.
The fire engines were approaching, sirens announcing their presence minutes before they arrived.
A man entered the villa through a broken window to search for people trapped inside. He waded
through the blaze and saw Blair standing there in a daze. He grabbed her wrist, dragging her to the
entrance.
"Mom! Dad!" The man opened the door and dragged Blair out of the villa. She accidentally raised her
head. To her surprise, she saw a familiar face.
It was none other than Wesley.
Wesley came to her rescue and pulled her away from the sea of flames.
Blair had inhaled a lot of smoke, and could barely breathe. Every breath was punctuated by a fit of
coughing. She managed to gasp, "My mom...and dad are in there... Save them...please..."
The fire was uncontrollable. Even after Blair was out of the villa, a second explosion rocked the
complex.
The firefighters wanted to rush in to save them, but it was simply too dangerous.
Firemen, policemen, EMTs, and their vehicles splashing colored light over the crowd. The villa was
surrounded by people.
The fire was finally put out after an hour. The villa had been burnt to a blackened husk. Anyone that
was still in there was merely char and ashes.
Adalson Ji, who was in a green uniform, squatted down before Blair. Eyes full of sorrow, he said softly,
"Blair, come with me." Standing beside Adalson Ji was a man in a camo suit—Wesley.
Confusion was written all over Blair's face. "Uncle, why did they abandon me?"
The question brought a lump to his throat. That was his sister and brother-in-law, and he couldn't save
them. He stroked her hair as if comforting a child. "They didn't abandon you. You're still their daughter,
no matter what."
"Uncle, I was in the villa too, but I didn't die." Blair clenched her fists tightly, her face as pale as a sheet.
"I couldn't save them. Am I a murderer?"
She watched as her parents died. She was so guilty that she thought she was responsible for their
deaths.
Adalson Ji felt rather sorry for her. "No! That's not it. You're still a sweet kid. You had nothing to do with
this," he coaxed her.
'I'm almost nineteen. Not really a kid, ' she thought.
Adalson Ji got a call over his radio. He stepped away to make a report. Wesley and Blair were left
alone.
Wesley passed a bottle of water to the girl, who stared blankly at the ground. "Have a drink. It'll help
your throat," he said.
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