Tiger's Pleasure Boat

The car rolled smoothly into the driveway of Villa 9, the gates opening with their usual quiet precision. Lu Jianjun sat in the back seat, the chill of his thoughts clashing with the warmth of familiarity. The weight of his return spread across him in a strange duality—was he newly relieved to be back, or was it something closer to unending depression?

He was supposed to be at the Elder's house by now. That was where Little Tiger was, where he hadn't seen his son in four long days—ever since the night of Zhang Han's reception. Four days, and the truth of the night's had dragged him endlessly spiral, leaving an ache that neither work nor routine could dull. If it was not for Little Tiger, possibly he would have behaved differently. 

From where he sat, his gaze drifted upward to his bedroom window. The lights were on, and the curtains on the side balcony shifted in the night breeze. She's awake.