He adjusted his insignia, stepping out of the small reception room, crossing the narrow corridor. The warm midday sun shone through the glass windows along the corridor, illuminating him. His pace was quick as he returned to his office on the top floor, sitting behind the black writing desk.
His desk was always tidy, with a lamp, a phone, a stationery box, and a schedule prepared by his secretary. He usually packed his schedule tightly, but this time, he had squeezed out a whole day from those tense appointments. With unprecedented anticipation, he hurriedly boarded a plane at the private airport, secretly landing in the capital, and drove back to the villa by the Havel River. He had intended to surprise that little woman; he admitted he was not good at creating surprises, but he just wanted to see her astonished expression.
However, the moment the car pulled up in front of the gate, he realized what shock truly felt like. He was indeed shocked, even doubting his own eyes. This shy little woman, who would blush at the sight of any stranger, was standing at the villa’s door with a man, bidding him farewell. The man wore a jacket and carried a professional camera bag, appearing broad-shouldered and tall, and he gentlemanly kissed her hand. After saying goodbye to the man, this beautiful petite woman did not immediately return inside but leaned against the door, standing there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before turning around with a radiant smile and going back inside.
If it weren’t for the driver being present, he might have been unable to restrain himself and would have confronted her directly. But this jealous anger only burned for a few seconds; his innate sensitivity told him this was not a simple romantic affair. The location of the villa he had chosen was already sufficiently secluded, and this woman was completely under his surveillance, with almost no opportunity for outside contact. He suddenly remembered that a few months ago, his subordinate had reported to him that on the train to the capital, her angelic compassion had led her to volunteer to make an announcement for help, saving an asthmatic patient, and thus she had met a captain from the National Defense Army, spending a night in his compartment. At that time, he hadn’t paid much attention to it. Now, he quickly connected these two events in his mind.
Moreover, there was one more thing, the most important one: that man had enchanting lake-blue eyes. He saw that light from afar as he sat in the car; that gaze felt familiar.
“Go back,” he sat straight in the back seat, his expression dark, and whispered a command. The driver’s expression was somewhat unusual, hesitating for a moment, but he immediately noticed that icy blue gaze sweeping over him in the rearview mirror, causing the trained driver to break out in a cold sweat. He gripped the steering wheel, turned the car around, and drove the black Mercedes swiftly down the somewhat muddy road.
He opened the first drawer of his desk, where a cowhide envelope lay, containing a photocopied document about the National Defense Army captain—Marcus Pearl—who had met her on the train and reappeared at the villa. His ice-blue eyes scanned the information collected overnight by his subordinates, and his intuition proved correct; this man was not simply infatuated with the somewhat mysterious beautiful Eastern girl at first sight, appearing repeatedly by her side, showering her with attention and care.
He was there for himself.
The document indicated that Marcus Pearl came from a middle-class family with some prominence, tracing back to the 1520s. Aside from his family’s military achievements, Marcus’s father, Joseph Pearl, had also been a captain. Marcus was a graduate of the Army Officer School, an outstanding student with excellent credentials, currently a captain in the 5th Corps of the National Defense Army. Reports from spies within the military detailed his entire history and recent itinerary; he had a close combat medal and was currently on leave due to an appendicitis operation. Yet, from the man’s demeanor, he did not appear to have undergone any surgery, a fact confirmed by spies at the 4th Military Hospital.
The file also contained a photo of the Pearl family, featuring old Joseph Pearl and his three brothers. He carefully scrutinized the photo, where Marcus Pearl, with his lake-blue eyes, was just a boy of a little over ten years old. What truly caught his attention was the young man in military uniform on the left side of the photo.
“Cooper Pearl…” he silently repeated the man’s name in his mind. This man was young and handsome, with brown hair, a well-defined forehead, and striking features, exuding a heroic aura. Like his brother, Marcus Pearl, this man had lake-blue eyes, the color of his pupils calm like autumn lake water.
He placed the black-and-white photo on the desk, opened the drawer, took out a lighter, lit a cigarette, and walked to the window. There were too many memories he was reluctant to recall, including that of Lieutenant Cooper Pearl. Yet he still clearly remembered what Lieutenant Cooper Pearl had said to the new recruits of the cavalry regiment on a cold winter day at the training ground; he also remembered Cooper’s flawless performance at the shooting range; he even recalled a cold night after fresh snow, when he led several assault team members to kick open the barracks door and bind the sleeping man in bed, directly delivering him to the commander…
