Vivian Sinclair

In the summer of 2012, Vivian moved into Mr. Blackwood's house. 

At the time, she had just turned sixteen. After her mother's funeral, Mr. Blackwood brought her to BJ City. 

The Blackwood family was wealthy, but Vivian's family had always struggled to make ends meet. Her mother was Mr. Blackwood's ex-wife. 

It's a bit complicated, but to put it simply, Mr. Blackwood was her nominal father. 

In reality, however, she was the child of her mother and a servant who worked for the Blackwood family. 

When Vivian was young, she didn't understand much. She thought her misfortune was due to being born into the wrong family. Later, she realized she had been born into the right womb—she had just mistaken her father. If Mr. Blackwood had been her father, everything would have been fine. But he wasn't, and that was a big problem. Her mother had been kicked out of the Blackwood household. 

When Vivian grew older, she started questioning her mother: "Why did you have to mess around with someone else?" 

Victoria Sinclair, Vivian's mother, was preparing for an audition, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She laughed and said, "He was handsome." 

Handsome? What good was being handsome if it couldn't put food on the table? Victoria Sinclair was beautiful, but without Mr. Blackwood's financial support, she went from being a wealthy socialite to a struggling actress. 

Still, Vivian didn't hold much resentment toward Mr. Blackwood. After all, his wife had had a child with someone else, and he had not only helped cover up the scandal but also sent monthly alimony. That was more than enough. 

Originally, Mr. Blackwood had sent the money once a year, but that didn't work because Victoria Sinclair would spend it all on designer bags and clothes. One year, during a dry spell in her career, Victoria couldn't make ends meet, and Vivian even had to drop out of school. After that, Mr. Blackwood started sending tuition fees monthly, letting Vivian manage the money herself. 

Vivian had a good relationship with Mr. Blackwood, perhaps because he only had two sons and no daughters. Mr. Blackwood would visit Han City a few times a year, either for business or simply to see her—just her, never Victoria Sinclair. Still, he would ask about Victoria: Had she taken on another terrible role? Had she found a new boyfriend? Had she maxed out her credit card again? Was she coughing at night? Vivian answered truthfully, and Mr. Blackwood patted her forehead. 

Just as Vivian had a good relationship with Mr. Blackwood, she also got along well with Victoria Sinclair. They didn't feel like mother and daughter but rather like two tenants sharing a roof. Vivian had learned to cook before she even started elementary school and had mastered budgeting as soon as she learned basic math. Soon, she was managing everything at home. Unlike Mr. Blackwood, Victoria never cared about Vivian's studies or personal life. 

"Your mother is somewhat cold and detached," was how Mr. Blackwood put it. Vivian didn't think so. Victoria had taken care of her—changing her diapers when she wet the bed at two or three years old, and attending her parent-teacher meetings, When she was bullied at school, Victoria Sinclair even stormed into the school with her high heels to make a scene.

Back then, Vivian didn't realize that the reason she thought Victoria was a good mother was that she was also quite detached. 

The word "detached" made people seem heartless. 

Unlike Mr. Blackwood, who couldn't hide his lingering affection for Victoria, Victoria had long forgotten about him. A beautiful woman with a yearning for freedom, she could sit at a bar, order the cheapest drink, and still leave the men around her intoxicated without a single sip. 

After her divorce, Victoria Sinclair was never short of boyfriends. 

Though she never brought them home. 

Victoria's death was sudden—a car accident. 

She didn't die in vain. Her young boyfriend had protected her until the very end. Vivian was sixteen by then, old enough to understand what had happened, though she was too embarrassed to explain it to Mr. Blackwood. Still, he found out from the police. 

Because Vivian was older now, then Mr. Blackwood could share more heartfelt words with her.

"Your mother was like that," he said. "No matter where she goes, there will always be someone who loves her. She was very fortunate." 

A fortunate woman, but one who died young. Vivian couldn't quite agree, though she had learned to read people from a young age. The fact that Mr. Blackwood could say such things suggested that his current family life wasn't happy. Later, after moving into the Blackwood household, Vivian realized her guess was correct. Mr. Blackwood and his current wife had married for business reasons, tying the knot less than a month after his divorce from Victoria Sinclair. Such a rapid pace, combined with the lack of genuine affection between them, made Vivian suspect that Mr. Blackwood had remarried out of spite toward Victoria. Of course, with everyone involved now gone, there was no way to confirm this. 

Regardless, Mr. Blackwood treated her well. 

And so, Vivian was willing to move from WH city to BJ city.

In the Blackwood household in BJ city, there were two sons. 

The older one was twelve, and the younger one was eight. 

Vivian herself was only sixteen at the time. They say a three-year gap creates a generation divide, and Vivian was one generation apart from Ethan and two from Noah. 

She still remembered the first time she met the two brothers. They were in the piano room, dressed in white shirts and trousers, looking like little adults as their teacher guided them through piano lessons. Vivian followed Mr. Blackwood inside when he knocked on the door and introduced her, explaining her identity first. 

The younger brother, Noah, looked up at her with curiosity, while the older brother, Ethan, tilted his head with a cold, disdainful expression. 

Vivian was perceptive. With just one glance, she could tell that the two brothers weren't living a happy life either. 

Truly loved children are rare in this world. 

And those who lack love each have their reasons. 

In the Blackwood household, Vivian interacted most often with Mrs. Blackwood. She was a full-time housewife, managing the affairs of the large estate. To be honest, Vivian found it cruel. Mrs. Blackwood was also beautiful and relatively young, despite having two sons. Why had she confined herself to this domestic life? If this was why Victoria had chosen to rebel, Vivian could understand and even deeply support her decision. 

Vivian went to school and came home late, so she didn't see much of the two brothers. As her horizons broadened, her late returns became even later. Sometimes, she even arrived home at the same time as Mr. Blackwood after his overtime work. During that period, Vivian loved wandering the streets at night. After class, instead of going home, she would roam around. Mr. Blackwood didn't scold her, saying she was a lot like her mother. They would sit in the dimly lit living room and chat. 

Mr. Blackwood wasn't much of a talker at home, but he had things he could share with Vivian. 

From this, Vivian concluded that Mr. Blackwood didn't really like his family. 

Whether it was his reminiscences of the past, his judgment of his ex-wife, or his care for Vivian, it all pointed to this. 

Vivian wasn't his child—they shared no blood relation—but she felt a father's love from him. 

As for Mrs. Blackwood and the children around her, they were polite to Vivian. Vivian felt that the two brothers disliked her, but to what extent, she couldn't say. She only remembered one year when Noah celebrated his birthday at Happy Valley, and Mrs. Blackwood brought her along. 

The two boys were playing bumper cars, and Mrs. Blackwood watched eagerly from behind the barrier. Vivian, already seventeen, wasn't interested in such childish games and stayed by Mrs. Blackwood's side. 

"I used to be a race car driver," Mrs. Blackwood said. "Before I got married." 

Vivian was surprised. She hadn't expected this elegant woman to have such a side. It turned out Mrs. Blackwood wasn't watching her children—she was eyeing the bumper cars that resembled race cars. 

Everyone has dreams. Some are grand, something you'd dedicate your life to. Others are simpler, just things you've always wanted to do. Vivian didn't have anything like that. Her teacher once said she lacked ambition, and Vivian thought it was a disease of the poor. How could you have a rich inner life when you're struggling to make ends meet? Only the upper class had the time, money, and energy to indulge their restless talents. 

"...Why didn't you continue?" Vivian asked. She already knew the answer, but in Mrs. Blackwood's eyes, she was just a child, and children were supposed to ask such questions. Mrs. Blackwood opened up and shared many experiences from her life after marrying into the Blackwood family. 

In the end, Mrs. Blackwood summed it up with, "Love is a shackle." See, even though it was a marriage she was talking about, she mentioned love. Vivian realized that marriage and love weren't so easily separated. Not everyone was as detached as she and Victoria Sinclair were. Mrs. Blackwood did have a love for Mr. Blackwood. 

Some bonds tied by blood are too heavy. 

With those, how could there not be love? 

But what about those without blood ties? Could there still be love? 

Vivian wasn't sure. Mr. Blackwood treated her well. 

Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood didn't travel together often, but there were a few trips each year. They would visit relatives in the U.S. Vivian didn't know if they were white, but judging from Ethan and Noah's features, they were both handsome and looked Asian. 

When the parents were away, the kids ruled the house. That night, Vivian discovered mud on her bedsheets. 

The children's rooms were on the second floor. She had never been to the brothers' rooms, but that didn't mean they hadn't visited hers. 

"Who did this?!" Vivian grabbed the sheets and stormed downstairs. 

The tutor was conducting an evening reading session with Ethan and Noah. 

Noah flinched, and Ethan instinctively shielded him. 

The nanny hurried over to mediate, suggesting they just replaced the sheets and telling Vivian not to be angry. But telling someone not to be angry when they're angry is like telling someone not to be hungry when they're starving. Vivian didn't know how to deal with upper-class people, but that didn't mean she was a pushover. She turned and went to Noah's room to take his bedsheets. Noah ran upstairs to stop her. 

Ethan suddenly spoke up. 

"...It was me." 

Noah, who was ten, loved his bedsheets, which had a Crayon Shin-chan design. Ethan knew this, which was why he took the blame. Vivian didn't care about their brotherly bond. She rolled up Noah's bedsheets and then headed to Ethan's room. Both boys were stunned. 

"You! You're cheating!" Noah shouted. "I messed up your bedsheets, and now you're taking both of ours…" 

"You," Vivian pointed at Noah's nose, "your bedsheets are because of what you did." She then pointed at Ethan's nose, "And your bedsheets are because you were there watching. Did you think I didn't know? You two always stick together when you're up to no good." 

Ethan fell silent. Vivian was right. 

Vivian threw all three bedsheets into the backyard pond. 

"If that's how it is, then no one gets to sleep tonight." 

Noah started crying. "Who do you think you are?!" 

"I'm eight years older than you," Vivian said coldly, crossing her arms. "When I was doing mischief, you two were still playing in the mud." 

"You… What's so great about being older?!" Noah sobbed. "The nanny said it herself—you're not even part of this family!" 

The household staff fell silent. 

Ethan instinctively stepped in front of his brother. 

Vivian shoved Ethan aside and grabbed Noah by the collar. 

She hadn't planned to get physical, but Noah choked out: 

"If… if you dare hit me… I'll tell Dad to kick you out…" 

Vivian slapped him to the ground. 

It happened so fast that no one had time to react. 

"You think I enjoy staying here?!" Vivian spat viciously. "Go ahead and tell your dad to kick me out! I can't wait! Call him, complain to him, do whatever you want when they get back from their trip!" 

"But until then…" She glared at Ethan. "You better keep your brother in check!" 

Vivian grabbed her jacket and stormed out of the house. 

No one in the large household dared to stop her. 

Vivian had money—Mr. Blackwood gave her some, and she had earned some herself over the past two years. During the summer vacation of her second year of high school, she spent a month getting her driver's license and bought a hybrid car for just over 100,000 yuan after graduation. She had her car and could go wherever she wanted. No one could control her. 

Why had Vivian made so many plans for herself? 

Because she had never considered these people her family. 

She stayed at a friend's house, counting the days until Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood returned from their trip. If she got kicked out of the Blackwood household, she would just go back to Han City. Victoria Sinclair had left her an old house, and she could earn her tuition during college… After all, no one could starve to death. 

But Vivian didn't wait for Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood to return home. 

Instead, she received news of their deaths.