The room was stuffy. Grace Sullivan unbuttoned one button of his white shirt, laid his suitcase flat at the foot of the bed, and opened it. The not-so-large case was half empty, containing a toiletry bag, two suits, and a box of gilded crystal wax seals—the official seal of the bank president.

Grace Sullivan pulled out the inner compartment, where several unreleased anti-counterfeit notes were kept. He had overseen their production, secretly manufactured and successfully transported a batch a month ago. These were kept as mementos.

Beneath the notes was a newspaper. In the center of the page, a prominent notice read: “Notice to the Nation—Announcement of the Closure of Fuhua Bank.”

Grace Sullivan had written it himself. A few words could not capture the painstaking effort behind it. Even after reading it again, he still found it impossible to express the turmoil in his heart.

He lay flat on the narrow bed, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. The agate ring between his fingers was hard, like a syringe pressing against his skin, injecting a tranquilizer.

Grace Sullivan was utterly exhausted and soon fell into a deep sleep.

After a long time, the ship began to shake violently. The small table in the room slid across the floor, bumping into the wall with a “thud.”

Grace Sullivan woke up and glanced out the tiny porthole. The sky was gloomy, a bolt of lightning split the pitch-black heavens, and the sea was churning with waves.

People kept passing by in the corridor, their shouts growing louder amid the turbulence.

Grace Sullivan threw on his clothes and stepped outside, startled by how terrible the weather had become. The sea wind howled, and the dense, dark clouds seemed to hang almost to the surface of the water.

Before long, all the off-duty crew members rushed out, a sign of how dangerous the situation was.

The deck was crowded with anxious passengers. Thunder rumbled low, and torrential rain swept down in sheets. Amid the chaos, a giant wave crashed over, and people scrambled back into the cabins, their unbalanced bodies collapsing like curled-up shrimp.

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck straight down, splitting the mast of the ship in two!

In an instant, countless people screamed and wailed in terror, misery everywhere. Some crew members, as if giving up, let go and collapsed limply to the ground.

Icy seawater pounded the deck relentlessly. The waves, like raging dragons, swallowed the battered ship in great gulps.

All around were screams, cries for help, and sobbing—what awaited was panic, casualties, and utter helplessness.

Grace Sullivan clung to the railing, his hair whipping in the wind, his whole body drenched, salty seawater streaming down his calm face.

He swayed, then smiled silently.

He thought of his short life—born into luxury, shouldering high expectations, having known happiness and tasted hardship. He had never sought to have his name recorded in history, yet now, unexpectedly, he was to end up buried at sea.

Fortunately, he had no regrets for his family or country—only a pity that he would not live to see the wounds of the land healed.

A giant wave soared into the sky and crashed down vertically with a “bang,” splitting the deck open in an instant.

Grace Sullivan experienced a brief ringing in his ears. The railing was too slippery to hold onto. He let go, took from his breast pocket the pocket watch he had worn since childhood, and rubbed the cover with his thumb. Engraved on it was the “卍” symbol, representing the compassion of Buddhist law.

As the ship sank, his white shirt fluttered gently. Grace Sullivan, like an epiphyllum blooming alone in the night, was suddenly swallowed by the heavens and earth.

The seawater was freezing, the cold seeping into his very core, his breath gradually slipping away.

Grace Sullivan’s consciousness grew hazy, until it was extinguished.

……

The sensation of floating seemed to disappear.

Grace Sullivan felt a trace of warmth and solidity. The harsh noises had stopped. It was quiet. Later, he vaguely heard footsteps.

Could someone have saved him?

The footsteps drew closer and stopped beside him. Grace Sullivan’s senses became more real.

He wasn’t dead. He was still alive.

Suddenly, he heard someone speaking, the voice slightly low, right beside him, addressing him.

Who was it…

Grace Sullivan finally opened his eyes.

A few rings of light flickered before his eyes. He was dazed for a moment, then his vision gradually cleared and focused—he saw a stranger.

Tall and handsome, the man was staring at him, his cold expression mixed with barely concealed astonishment.

Samuel Bennett hadn’t expected that, just after reciting the eulogy, the supposedly dying Brian Carter would actually wake up.

Those eyes stared fixedly at him, the pupils clear as water, with no trace of drunkenness or dying weakness. After a long moment, they blinked hesitantly, long lashes fluttering, and when they looked again, the gaze had turned serious.

Grace Sullivan hadn’t spoken in a long time, so his voice was a bit hoarse: “Who are you?”

Samuel Bennett snapped back to himself, his arrogance returning as well, and retorted, “Don’t you remember me?”

Grace Sullivan was more guarded than confused, replying, “I don’t know you.”

Samuel Bennett couldn’t even be bothered to mock him with a “the great often forget,” and with Henry Bennett and four others all lying in the hospital room, and who knew how many more injured, he had no patience to spar with an idiot.

Samuel Bennett leaned forward slightly, unable to resist maliciously speculating about this young master Chu, and said, “Brian Carter, after causing such a big accident, pretending to have amnesia won’t help.”

Grace Sullivan: “I—”

Before he could deny it, Samuel Bennett turned and left the treatment room.

Outside, several women had arrived to accompany Mrs. Chu. Not wanting to linger, Samuel Bennett said before leaving, “Auntie, go in and have a look. He’s awake.”

Mrs. Chu was startled. Her frail body sprang up from the sofa, and she rushed into the treatment room, with Alice Carter and the others close behind.

Grace Sullivan was startled by the sudden influx of people.