CHAPTER 1: Comfort of Home
Morning did not creep into Max’s room—it claimed it. Golden strands of sunlight slipped boldly through the half-drawn curtains, stretching across the walls and floor until they finally reached his face, prying his eyes open with quiet insistence.
For a fleeting second, he lingered in that fragile space between sleep and awareness, his mind still heavy, his body reluctant.
Then his gaze found the clock. And just like that—everything shifted.
He shot upright. The remnants of sleep vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp jolt of urgency that ran through him like electricity.
“Damn—” he muttered under his breath, already swinging his legs off the bed. He didn’t waste another second.
Time, at this point, wasn’t something he could afford to lose.
His feet hit the floor, and he was moving. The bathroom light flicked on as he stepped in, his reflection barely earning a glance before he reached for his toothbrush.
The routine unfolded with practiced precision—paste, brush, rinse—each movement quick yet deliberate.
Cold water followed, splashed against his face in brisk motions, washing away the last traces of drowsiness.
Then came the shower.
He turned the knob, stepping under the stream almost immediately. The water cascaded over him, steady and refreshing, but he didn’t linger—not today.
This wasn’t comfort; this was necessity. His movements were efficient, controlled, his mind already racing ahead, mapping out everything left to do.
Within minutes, he was done. He reached for a towel, drying himself in swift motions before wrapping it around his waist and stepping back into his room.
Droplets of water clung to his skin, trailing down his shoulders and arms as he moved with renewed urgency.
He grabbed his uniform, pulling on his shirt first. One button after another—fast, but not careless. His trousers followed, adjusted neatly into place, then his belt secured with a firm tug.
Each step flowed into the next seamlessly, a rhythm built from repetition.
Just then, a knock broke through his thoughts. “Young master, you’re almost late. Do come down and eat,” Rosa’s voice called from the other side of the door, calm but firm.
Max adjusted his sleeve, turning slightly toward the sound. “Alright, I’ll be down in a second,” he replied. “Just grabbing my things.”
He reached for his bag, giving it a quick check before slinging it over his shoulder. His shoes came next—slipped on, adjusted, secured. Then, almost instinctively, he paused before the mirror.
For a moment, he simply stared. Then he straightened his tie, smoothing out the slight crease in his collar. His reflection shifted—from rushed to composed, from scattered to ready. A faint smirk touched his lips.
“Yeah… that works.”
And with that, he was gone. The descent downstairs was swift but controlled, his steps light as he moved toward the lower floor.
Reaching the lower floor, Max was immediately greeted by the rich aroma drifting from the dining area. The scent of freshly prepared dishes filled the spacious lobby, warm and inviting, causing a faint smile to appear at the corner of his lips.
No matter how many times he experienced it, the Liang residence always carried a certain comfort that felt different from anywhere else.
Following the aroma, he made his way toward the dining hall.
Inside, he immediately noticed the familiar figures already seated. At the center was Mrs. Chen, his adoptive mother, calmly enjoying her breakfast with the same elegant composure she carried in every aspect of her life.
The CEO of Aureline Industries.
One of the few corporations whose name alone could silence a boardroom. Built on luxury technology, international finance, and high-level investment networks, the company held influence across continents without ever seeking public attention.
From private aerospace partnerships to elite jewelry brands and artificial intelligence research, Aureline’s reach extended far beyond ordinary business.
At the center of it all stood Mrs. Chen.
Elegant, composed, and impossibly difficult to read, she carried the presence of someone accustomed to deciding the rise and fall of billion-dollar empires with a single sentence.
Within corporate circles, Aureline Industries was often called “the empire behind the curtains.”
Beside her sat Lucia — his adoptive sister and the biological daughter of the Liang family.
Even during something as simple as eating, her movements carried the discipline of someone who had spent years training her body. Every motion was graceful and controlled, from the way she lifted her chopsticks to the quiet manner she observed everything around her.
However, one person was noticeably absent.
Mr. Liang. His adoptive father was nowhere among them.
Standing slightly away from the table was Hannah Blake, Mrs. Chen’s personal assistant.
Unlike the relaxed atmosphere of the dining area, Hannah remained in her professional attire, tablet held neatly in hand, clearly prepared for the day’s schedule.
Nearby, Madam Rosa, the Liang family’s longtime chef, had just finished arranging the final dishes before stepping back respectfully.
