The feeling of deep anguish is just like this.
And yet, powerless to do anything.
Smoke swirls, gradually dispersed by the wind.
Charles Mcintosh took a few sharp drags, frowning slightly: "The smoke isn’t strong enough."
The assistant paused, then nodded.
He usually wouldn’t smoke anything too strong, as he couldn’t handle it and it affected his work.
The bow of the ship was very cold, gusts of wind blowing with a howl.
However, at the bow, he wouldn’t be drenched by rain. Charles Mcintosh just sat there, like a statue, smoking one cigarette after another.
His chiseled features were hidden in the darkness, an unfathomable desolation in his eyes.
Ever since handing the Cheney Family to Jesse Rowan, Sylvan Cheney had been planning the business and projects in Cakago with him.
Sylvan Cheney was born a talented businessman. He shared his plans and ideas with him, confident in himself. He believed that within five years, the new group would surpass the Cheney Family and would be an entirely new conglorate.
The Cheney Family mainly engaged in traditional businesses, while SJ International Group was more involved in innovative high-tech projects.
This transformation was akin to a complete tamorphosis.
Sylvan Cheney said that initially, a lot of caution and prudent investnt were necessary, hence the first year in Cakago was critical.
Sylvan Cheney even shared with him the minute details for the year, aiming for the group to take shape by year’s end.
Charles Mcintosh recalled these, as if it were just yesterday.
Sylvan Cheney’s low, confident voice lingered in his ears, yet why was the person nowhere to be seen...
Charles Mcintosh felt a pang in his nose and took a few more drags from his cigarette.
"Cough, cough..." Though the smoke wasn’t that strong, it still brought tears to his eyes.
On the way, Sylvan Cheney said if anything happened to him, the group in Cakago would be entrusted to him.
Charles Mcintosh’s eyes grew moist; he didn’t want responsibility, he didn’t want to bear such a heavy burden.
He still needed to go to Lonton to find Lilac Serval. He wasn’t getting any younger; he too wanted to marry and have children.
So Sylvan Cheney, you have to co back and take this burden with you.
The assistant watched Charles Mcintosh smoking, powerless to help.
All he could do was offer him cigarettes, light them, keeping watch by his side.
Soon, the ground was littered with cigarette butts.
"Mr. Mcintosh, you should change your clothes, or you’ll catch a cold," the assistant said worriedly.
"Let be alone. You go down,"
"I’d still better stay with you."
"Are you afraid I might think of sothing bad?" Charles Mcintosh’s lips curled into a bitter smile. "Don’t worry, I’m not that fragile."
The assistant fell silent, knowing Charles Mcintosh wouldn’t think of sothing bad, but tornting himself like this, the only one suffering was his own body.
Soaked clothes, it’s a wonder he wasn’t catching a cold.
As they spoke, a doctor wearing a white coat and mask approached, "Mr. Mcintosh, Miss Yale’s bullet has been removed and the wound has been treated."
"How is she? Has she woken up?" Charles Mcintosh turned his head, finally a hint of relief showing in his eyes.
"She lost a lot of blood and is still receiving a transfusion. She hasn’t woken up yet, but she’s out of danger. It’s a miracle she held on this long."
"I didn’t believe in love before, but now I do," Charles Mcintosh’s voice was soft, "Little Fann, have you ever heard the saying? You fall deeply for no apparent reason, the living can die, the dead can co to life."
The young assistant scratched his head, not really understanding.
He wasn’t very adept at dealing with girls and had never been in love, so... he didn’t really understand what love felt like.
He asked hesitantly, "Love? Is it bitter or sweet?"
User Comments
0 comments from readers