Throne of Blood

Chapter One: The Drinkerode（3）

Maxwell suddenly opened his eyes.

He was still in the hotel room, everything normal.

It had just been a dream.

Still, he wondered why he had such a dream. Strictly speaking, he hadn’t dreamt in a long time. But a dream was just a dream, not worth overthinking. People’s dreams were often nonsensical, perhaps just a scene from some work he had seen over the past twenty years reappearing in his mind.

In a daze, Maxwell picked up his cellphone from beside the pillow. There were two missed calls and several WeChat messages.

The contact labeled "Bro" had asked where Maxwell was and why he wasn’t answering calls, the main content suggesting they meet for lunch at the Westwood Café.

Maxwell glanced at the time, 11:25 AM.

Seven hours of sleep wasn’t really enough for him, but he didn’t feel like sleeping any longer. He sent a message saying he would come, and the other party replied, “I’ll wait for you.”

Perhaps because he felt unexpectedly spirited after getting up, he agreed, stepping out and hailing a taxi. When was the last time he had seen the other person? A month, or two months ago? Maxwell’s sense of time was utterly disordered, and he hadn’t bothered to remember.

Ethan Parker sat across the table, reading a financial report, as Maxwell walked in without knocking—as they were close, Maxwell had always done so.

“That’s enough, as long as it’s enough to eat.”

Seeing Maxwell come in, Ethan put down the book and passed him the menu. “You want to order anything else? I’ve already ordered a few dishes.” Ethan said this, smiling helplessly.

“You’re being quite frugal.”

“If you don’t start spending money, you’ll soon run out.”

“Then why don’t you go make some?”

“I don’t know anything, nor do I want to learn,” Maxwell said indifferently.

“What am I supposed to say to you... Our parents left early, and the family wealth was just so-so. How long can you last? Can you make it through a lifetime?”

“Let’s just get through today.”

Ethan was somewhat angry, but still held back from lashing out.

“Forget it, I’ve told you for a year and you haven’t changed. I’ll stop caring after this. Do what you want, but don’t think of getting money from me anymore.” Ethan’s words sounded more like a warning.

“Fine. But I haven’t asked you for money many times, have I?” Maxwell didn’t care. In truth, he had asked Ethan for money several times, but he hadn’t really kept track; each time was just to solve some minor problem.

“You know it yourself. Let’s eat. I don’t ask for you to be ambitious anymore, just don’t go missing or cause trouble. I don’t want to suddenly receive a call to come pick you up…”

“Alright, alright, my bro,” Maxwell said mockingly. “I mean, the two of us brothers rarely get together, why not have some wine?”

“You drink enough every day, don’t drink at noon. Besides, I have things to do later.”

“Alright, alright, then no drinking! Let’s eat!”

Maxwell began to eat, picking up some appetizers with his chopsticks, while Ethan sighed and picked up his book again, continuing to read as they waited for the main dishes.

Although the meal wasn’t very pleasant, in the past two years, this was probably one of the rare, more temperate exchanges between them. Perhaps Ethan had finally despaired of him, Maxwell thought as he walked into a movie theater. He chose a blockbuster known for its visual effects and entered the screening room. The movie hadn’t received great reviews, but its visual effects were highly praised. Maxwell didn’t care about the reviews; the quality of the story was irrelevant to him; he just wanted something thrilling.

His seat was inside, requiring him to pass several people. At this moment, those seeing him wouldn’t associate him with a nightclub drunk. As he squeezed past one of the seats, he felt a hard object pressing against him. He glanced curiously at that seat as he sat down—the person there wore a uniquely shaped belt, likely what had pressed against him.

Then, the movie started, and soon, a barrage of dazzling special effects and booming sounds alternately assaulted the senses. Maxwell immersed himself in this environment, feeling nothing special; he wasn’t specifically there to watch the movie but had just passed by and decided to find something to do.

If he had to find something else to pass the afternoon, it would take a while, but a movie lasted two to three hours, enough to entertain. After watching the movie, he could find a cheap diner, have a simple dinner, and then take a taxi back to his little haven.

However, he hadn’t noticed that the girl from last night was also sitting in the theater, a few rows behind him. It was unavoidable; she had come in later than him, and after he sat down, he had no interest in looking around at other spectators. In contrast, the girl seemed quite interested in him; during the few hours of the movie, she didn’t watch the screen much, just kept her gaze on Maxwell’s seat.