“What did you say?” Donald frowned. “Since you are my son, we will naturally be seeing each other every day in the future.”

Seven turned back to face him, disbelief written all over his face. “E-every day?”

“Yes, Seven,” Donald said with a smile, pulling a folded document from his coat pocket. “You’re still a minor. This is a guardianship application form. All you need to do is sign it, and we can be reunited as father and son.”

He placed his well-manicured hand over Seven’s and continued, “You don’t need to worry about anything else. I’ll get you out on parole soon. You enjoy studying violin in Austria, don’t you? Which tutor do you prefer? I know several directors of music academies.” He paused, frowning slightly as if in thought. “Of course, you’ll take on the Sutherland name eventually, though that will take some time. Still, I do like calling you Seven. It has a nice ring to it.”

At that moment, Seven felt as if he’d been bitten by a venomous snake. He yanked his hand back abruptly and said, “No, thank you. I’m not interested.”

Pointing to the door, he added, “Studying violin in Austria? Don’t insult music. I’m not going to climb out of your bed just to go to school. Get out!”

Despite Seven’s strong resistance, Donald didn’t seem angry. He withdrew his hand and smiled calmly. “You’re very clever, but darling, you’re still so young. That’s why someone like Cruz was able to fool you. If you don’t agree now, I won’t force you. This form will always be here for you to sign. As my son, I’ll give you one piece of advice. “Prison doesn’t trap those who have wronged you. It only traps you. Have you ever seen a chained beast that can truly defend itself?”

“Get out!” Seven shouted, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.

Before Donald could respond, the door burst open with a bang. Andy entered with a stern expression, followed by a visibly uncomfortable officer.

His face was cold as he asked, “I’m sorry, sir, but what exactly are you doing here?”

Donald smiled and said, “Just having a little chat with Seven.”

“You have no such authority,” Andy replied icily. “Forget that you’re merely a Duke of England. Even if you were the President of the United States my client is still protected under the Miranda rights!”

Donald picked up his hat and placed it gracefully on his head. “Thank you. I hope these rights continue to protect Seven.”

As Donald’s figure disappeared beyond the door, Seven suddenly said, “Andy, I think I’d like to give myself a Chinese name.”

Andy was momentarily taken aback. Seven’s thoughts often seemed to leap in unexpected directions, but he still asked, “What name do you have in mind?”

Seven’s slender fingers pulled the guardianship papers closer, his eyes focusing on his mother’s name in one section: MO.LI. Tracing over the two characters, he said, “I’ll call myself Mo Zimu.” Then he picked up a pen and wrote three Chinese characters at the top of the document.

Andy took the paper and looked at the three characters. Chinese script always resembled a cluster of plants at first glance, and these three characters brought to mind the image of daisies.

“Alright, I’ll take care of it for you, Mr. Mo,” Andy said.

Technically, helping Seven change his name wasn’t part of Andy’s services, but he seemed to forget to ask for additional fees.

—–

When they were heading into court, they unfortunately ran into Kiefer outside.

Kiefer glared at Seven with a venomous expression. “Look who it is, a petty thief trying to steal something!”

Andy wanted to shield Seven and maneuver them past the crowd of lawyers. However, Kiefer deliberately pushed through the group, ending up face-to-face with Seven while Andy was separated by the throng.

Kiefer leaned close to Seven and said in a low but clear voice, “You liked that little tea table so much. Was it because it got you off? If we hadn’t put you on it, how else could we have enjoyed you, one after the other?”

Seven, with his hands cuffed, replied calmly, “I’m glad I could be your last pleasant memory, Mr. Kiefer.”

Kiefer’s face contorted with rage, and he raised his fist, but a lawyer standing behind him, wary of causing a scene, held him back. Kiefer snarled, “You’ll pay for this, you son of a bitch!”

Seven looked at him with utter indifference, as though Kiefer was nothing more than the lowest kind of animal. That cold, dismissive expression pushed Kiefer further to the brink of losing control.

——

“In light of the fact that you are a minor, I lean toward leniency. However, the use of a highly dangerous weapon during the commission of your crime, and the resulting injury, demonstrates a lack of self-control and the capacity to avoid harming others. For this reason, I sentence you to incarceration. Considering your preference for local imprisonment, I respect your choice. You will serve five years at a juvenile correctional facility on Saint Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands.”

The judge concluded his verdict with a heavy strike of the gavel, making it official.

——

As Andy saw off Seven, or rather Mo Zimu, the latter smiled faintly and whispered before leaving, “I left you a gift in your email.”

Andy stood watching the boy’s figure disappear into the distance. Then he turned back, only to face the wrath of Rong Qing.

He had never seen Rong Qing lose his temper before, or even show the capacity for it.

At that moment, Rong Qing seemed to have completely lost control. He shoved him against the wall, gripping his collar tightly, his eyes blazing with fury. “Andy, I hope you’re prepared to face the consequences of betraying me.”

Andy let out a bitter laugh. He couldn’t afford to refuse Seven’s terms, even if it meant being beaten and crushed. “Daniel, I’m sorry…”

Rong Qing gradually regained his composure. “Andy, I believe this is the end of our collaboration.”

Andy broke into a cold sweat. For a moment, he had genuinely felt that Rong Qing might kill him. Letting out a long sigh, he muttered, “Thank you.”

Rong Qing’s cold voice continued, “You’ve used up all ten years of our friendship. I hope you understand that.”

Andy watched Rong Qing’s retreating figure. His words were clear. There was no longer any bond between them, and Andy knew exactly what that meant.

Before he could even return to his hotel, his phone buzzed. It was Johnson, the boss of Davy Law Firm, and his voice was nearly a roar. “Andy, Cruz Corporation has pulled all the cases they gave us, with no room for negotiation. Can you explain what the hell is going on?”

“I’m sorry, I’ll address this when I return…”

“No, Andy. Let me apologize instead. I’m sorry to tell you that you’re fired! You’re fucking fired!”

“Johnson, don’t forget, I’m a partner at Davy Law Firm!” Andy snapped, his voice filled with anger.

“Oh no, no. Do you think you’re still a partner without the Cruz contracts? I’ll personally throw you out in front of the entire board if I have to!” Johnson spat before hanging up the phone with a slam.

Andy clenched his fist, yanked off his tie, swiped his key card to unlock the door, and flung himself onto the bed.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his frustration boiling over.

Just then, a soft ding sounded. Andy hesitated, then sat up and entered the password to unlock his laptop.

An email notification appeared on the screen. He clicked it open and scanned it briefly, his expression shifting from surprise to a cold smirk.

Taking his time, he dialed a number on his phone. The familiar cold voice on the other end answered, “Andy, you’re a smart man. You wouldn’t want me to…”

“Of course I’m smart and well aware that you’re a notorious scumbag and a legal thug!” Andy interrupted sharply.

Johnson seemed a little taken aback. He hesitated for a moment and said, “Andy, what are you trying to do?”

“What am I trying to do, Johnson? I want you to vacate your position for me by tomorrow.”

“You’ve lost your mind!” Johnson’s voice was filled with a mix of shock and rage, clearly unable to comprehend Andy’s sudden boldness.

“I’m not crazy. But if you don’t want others to find out how you pushed your clients into dead ends just to hike up your fees, or how you deliberately delayed crucial intel that resulted in a tycoon’s son becoming crippled instead of saving him, or how you leaked a senator’s child abuse scandal to the press…”

“Shit! Andy, you’re spouting nonsense!”

“Johnson, we’re lawyers. It’s all about evidence. I can forward some things to your inbox, and we can talk after you’ve had a look.” Andy decisively hung up the phone. He stared at the email from Seven on his screen and muttered softly, “Mo Zimu.”

Sevendays once said, “If I’m online at the same time as you, you have no secrets from me.”

—–

St. Croix’s satellite island was so close to the main island that it wasn’t marked separately on maps. Yet, it was still too far for anyone to swim across.

During Danish rule, this satellite island was used to imprison pirates, thieves, and other criminals. The locals called it Mammon Island.

From a bird’s-eye view, Mammon Island had a similar mountainous terrain to St. Croix.

Its prison, Mammon Prison, sat along the coast, covering an area of over ten thousand square meters. The building resembled a rectangular fortress, with a flat-roofed main hall and towering round turrets in a distinct Baroque style.

Like many other islands in the Caribbean, Mammon Island boasted breathtaking scenery, lush greenery, and abundant forests.

Mo Zimu arrived on the island in a prison transport boat. Afterward, he and a group of prisoners climbed the mountainous terrain for an hour before reaching the imposing, high-security prison. Herded by guards, they were escorted to the registration area, along with the other inmates.

“Wait! Seven!” A voice called out from behind.

Mo Zimu turned and saw a guard motioning to him.

“Someone wants to see you. Come with me!” The guard gave him a shove.

Mo Zimu adjusted his glasses and obediently followed the stocky guard toward the visitors’ room.

Rong Qing was already sitting there waiting for him. Mo Zimu had no choice but to enter as the guard behind him gave him a rough push into the room. Unlike others who sat separated by the metal wire, Rong Qing was sitting on the same side as the prisoners.

“Seven!” Rong Qing greeted him with the same familiar warmth and gentleness as if nothing had changed. “Have a seat.”

Mo Zimu pulled out a chair and sat down, maintaining a deliberate distance between them.

“Seven, are you hungry?” Rong Qing asked.

Mo Zimu noticed that there was a food container sitting next to Rong Qing. It looked warm, with steam faintly rising from it.

Rong Qing opened the container and took out a serving of steamed soup dumplings. “I specifically brought in a soup dumpling chef from mainland China. He’s from Nanxiang Town, your mother’s hometown. See if it tastes like what you remember.”

That was how Rong Qing operated. When he was good to you, it was like being placed on a pedestal, making you forget your worth or even who you were. But there was always a however. And after however… there were too many things Mo Zimu would rather not remember.

So he didn’t dare touch the dumplings in front of him, nor did he want to. Instead, he furrowed his brows slightly and said, “Is there still something I haven’t paid back?”

Rong Qing lowered his gaze slightly as he placed the chopsticks neatly on the table. His voice was soft and slow. “Seven, do you not hate me? Do you not want revenge? Maybe… you still have a chance.”

Mo Zimu let out a long breath. “No, Rong Qing. This game, you’ve won. You’ve won completely. I admit defeat and am withdrawing from it entirely. I only hope… that in each other’s lives, it will be as if we never existed.”