The storm had raged all day. By evening, sky, sea and clouds bled into a single monochrome hue, the world falling into a solemn hush. Howling winds and towering waves crashed down relentlessly, threatening to tear the entire island from its roots—yet the villa blazed with light, a lone beacon in the tempest. Everyone had finished dinner, and no one dared step outside or retreat to their rooms in such weather, so they all huddled in the first-floor hall. Ding Zihui had flipped on every light she could find in the corners. If someone were to take an aerial shot right now, Fang Daichuan couldn’t help but think, the frame would be utterly striking. A dark, storm-tossed island, a single villa glowing with light; that fragile, flickering brightness seemed poised to be swallowed whole by the dark
