Love Began with the First Meeting
Chapter 674 The Plot (Part Three)

They had walked to the same spot where they had lingered for a while the last time. Spark placed the violin on his shoulder, looking affectionately at Molly. She sat silently on a grey stone. She sat still, not affected by her surroundings. She couldn't even identify where she was at the moment. All the luster on her face had gone. Spark took the fiddle bow and slowly placed it on the cord. He was nervous beyond words. This was a gesture he had attempted many a time for the past several months. But he had failed every single time. Music had left his soul and his violin made no sound. The consequence was that he was filled with fear whenever he took up his violin and that fear had intensified as time had passed.

Spark swallowed to steady himself. He was doing this for Molly. He was hoping that his music would bring her back. He closed his eyes and tried to play a tune. But it was not his soft, melodious music that came out of it. The cord vibrated to produce a coarse noise, like a braying call.

Molly was startled by the noise and was released from her trance. She looked at Spark in a daze. In the dim light of the setting sun, he was shrouded in an aura of mystery. Since his facial features were only half-visible, Molly could not read the expression on his face. But somehow, she could feel the sheer desperation that had seized him and it was dragging him into the abyss of hopelessness.

"Spark..." uttered Molly blankly as she stood up and walked towards him.

"Wow!" Spark jumped at her voice. He said in a joking tone, "I was hoping that might work. You really came back to yourself."

Molly looked at his face, which still had the smile that belonged to a proud violinist. She frowned, wondering what Spark was hiding under that seemingly relaxed smile. But she read nothing on his face.

She lowered her gaze and her eyes settled on the violin in Spark's hand. It was his violin. "Spark, you and Wing haven't been in touch for a while, have you? Can't you..." Molly stopped mid-sentence as she was frighted by her own question. It must be a nightmare for Spark. But she still wanted to know the answer, "Can't you play?"

The answer was obvious. Spark couldn't look at her. He lowered his eyes and kept them on the ground. A painful glint flashed in them. He didn't want Molly to see it. "No, I can't play anymore," he said in a low voice. "How could this be possible?" Molly was stupefied by his words. Did the most talented violinist she ever knew just tell her that he could not play the violin anymore? She couldn't believe her ears.

Spark sighed silently. Then he raised his head up to look at the twinkling stars above. In a defeated tone, he said, "Mol, there are things in this world for which we cannot replace an explanation. Maybe I'm suffering from the consequence of my mother's affairs. Or maybe I'm just tired." "Spark..."

"Mol," Spark spoke before Molly could say anything. He stared at her with a frown on his face. She looked haggard because of her sadness. He continued, "I cannot play the violin with these hands anymore, but I can still make delicious cakes." Spark tried to put on a fake smile for her.

"No! That's not the same," Molly said aloud and took a step backwards in her anger, "You're a genius violinist. You should use your hands to play the violin, not make cakes. How could you give up on your music?"

"There are many things which may disappoint us in our life. We cannot indulge ourselves in the past. We must forge ahead." Spark's words were as peaceful as the gentle wind, "Mol, our fate is out of our control. The only thing we can do is try our best to not drag ourselves into a dead end just because life is unfriendly to us."

Spark's philosophical words echoed through the peaceful park.

Molly looked into his eyes. Everything around them was quiet now, except for the rustling of the leaves under the caress of the light breeze.

Brian felt dizzy as he tried to wake up. He wanted to open his eyes, but he was so weak that it felt like there were heavy stones over his eyelids. He frowned and tried again with all his strength. This time, he slowly opened them.

Everything was blurry at first, but after squinting his eyes and blinking a few times, a clear picture of the interior came to his view. There was only one lamp kindled to shed some dim light into the room. There was no noise, except for the slow breathing next to him. As his memory came back to him, he gradually recalled how he had followed Molly from the ball to the room and what had happened between them after the philter poison had taken effect.

A delightful glint flashed in his eyes as a smile emerged on the corner of his lips. He turned to look at the woman lying in his arms. His gaze was gentle at first, but then it quickly turned sour.

Brian pulled his arm away roughly. He studied the woman lying next to him. She was wearing a bauhinia mask, and a blue dress lay by the bedside.

"Mmmm..." she moaned softly and slightly turned her body. There were red marks on the naked parts of her body. Brian tried to remember what was going on, but he had no idea who this woman was. He was frustrated.

"Who are you?" asked Brian, his voice as cold as ice.

Hannah opened her eyes, and turned to look at the man wearing the black and golden mask. She widened her eyes and sat up in a hurry. Noticing the red marks on her body, she immediately pulled the quilt to cover her body and shouted, "Who are you?! Why are you here?" Brian frowned in anger, and tore off her mask as she kept shouting and screaming. His eyes darkened as soon as he saw her face.

"What are you trying to do?" Hannah wrapped her body up with the quilt and jumped off the bed. She stared at Brian and asked breathlessly, "Who are you? What did you do to me?"

"Hannah!" roared Brian, his voice was so cold that it might have as well frozen over the innermost parts of hell. "You'd better pray that it was not you," he squinted his eyes to cast a cold glance at her. He slowly removed the mask from his face and continued, "Otherwise, you'd be leading a life which will be more miserable than death."

"What do you mean?" Hannah asked, trembling inside. The aura around Brian was so terrifying that she could not help but shudder. But she had to remain calm, at least pretend as much as possible. "You raped me, Brian. You know it. How could you say that to me?" She panted in her fury, "Yes, I love you and I want to be with you. But do you think that I need to win your heart by sliding into your bed? The Song family is renowned in A City. As a member of the Songs, I will always live up to my family's reputation."

"Then why are you here?" Brian asked, his voice laced in suspicion.

"I was drunk, so I came here to get some rest. But you followed me in and..." her eyes turned red as they were bathed in tears, "I don't know what happened after that. I was so drunk..."

Brian frowned and started to get anxious. Somehow, Hannah's words were consistent with his blurry memories. But Molly's familiar scent was so tangible that he had no reason to doubt it. But it was Hannah on his bed now. Her blue dress was wrinkled, and her crystal tear-filled eyes, when masked, resembled that of Molly's when she was sad. He had to admit that their eyes really had something in common. But he wasn't satisfied. He needed proof. He said in a cold tone, "I'll look into it. You'd better pray that you had no part to play in this." His words were so full of hatred and cruelty that it turned the whole room into a cell of ice. Hannah clenched her teeth in secret. But in front of Brian, she had to squeeze out more tears to make her crystal eyes look more pitiful.

With her eyes that resembled Molly's, she gazed at Brian, unwilling to look away. 000000