In order to prevent Fang Cheng from worrying about funding issues, she quietly fronted a significant amount of startup capital, intended to purchase a complete set of top-notch security systems and servers.
Despite being busy, she didn’t feel tired at all.
On the contrary, every ti she thought of that man’s gaze as he stood on the rooftop terrace overlooking the harbor, a continuous surge of motivation flooded her heart.
Since he harbored such grand ideals, vowing to beco a lighthouse piercing the darkness and illuminating the world.
Then she was willing to be the one silently adding oil to the lamp, doing her utmost to help him build this lighthouse more sturdily and radiantly.
"Ding."
The toaster lightly sounded, the slices of bread popped up, golden and crisp.
Lin Chuqiao carried her breakfast to the balcony and sat on the rattan chair, sipping a rich black coffee.
Looking at the gradually awakening city beneath her, a serene smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
After finishing her breakfast and tidying up briefly, she opened the door to a north-facing room.
This was her private studio, also her most secret realm.
The room was arranged extrely peacefully, with walls lined with bookshelves in natural wood color, filled with various books and art albums.
Near the window was a large walnut drawing desk, scattered with various sizes of brushes, paints, and several unfinished sketches.
Beside a pile of professional drawing tools, there were a few adorably plump ceramic cat figurines.
Adding a touch of femininity and playfulness to this slightly solemn space.
Lin Chuqiao pulled out a chair and sat down, took a deep breath, allowing her mood to slowly settle.
She retrieved a thick sketch paper from the drawer and laid it on the table.
Then she picked up a very fine charcoal pencil, her fingertips lightly rubbing the pencil barrel.
"Hoo..."
With a barely audible exhale, she slowly closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, those originally clear beautiful eyes had undergone a tumultuous change.
In the depths of her pupils, countless brilliant stars seed to be rotating, twinkling.
Her gaze was extraordinarily sharp, seemingly penetrating the walls of reality, looking into so ineffable dinsion.
At the sa ti, the charcoal pencil in her hand began to move swiftly across the paper.
Scratch scratch scratch—
At first, they were just chaotic lines, like a tangled ball of yarn.
But as the pencil tip danced, those lines seed to gain life, swiftly sketching out specific outlines.
The dilapidated street, the tangled wires wrapped around the electric poles, the irregular old residential buildings...
Lin Chuqiao’s expression beca exceptionally focused, fine beads of sweat erged on her forehead, yet the brush in her hand did not pause.
A mont later, she switched to a red colored pencil, heavily shading the tallest building in the center of the picture.
That was fire!
Fiercely burning flas, accompanied by thick smoke from explosions, nearly engulfed the top floor of the tubular building.
At the edge of the painting, several vague figures were yelling and running.
Though their facial expressions were indistinct, the terror and despair were conveyed through the paper’s back.
Amidst the blazing light and smoke, two silhouettes stood out.
They were leaping off the rooftop from nine stories high, like two eagles braving the storm.
The trailing silhouette was blurry, but the one in front, even during the fall, maintained a calm and composed posture...
That upright spine, that familiar outline.
Was clearly Fang Cheng!
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