Brian's residence.

Joanne had tried over ten different sleep postures and had made over ten attempts at summoning any somnolence she thought she had in her, but still, sleep eluded her.

Usually, she would fall asleep the moment she hit the sack. But tonight, thoughts of Brian's bridal carry preoccupied her mind.

The way his strong hands felt when they were pressed against her skin, his body heat, the warmth of his firm pectorals, the sharp contours of his handsome face... Oh, it was as if she was back in his arms again, reliving the same experience, seeing and feeling everything clearly. Her pulse began to race...

"Hey, you'd left Brian's embrace ages ago, okay! Just stop this! Argh!" she thought to herself.

Usually, Joanne had better self-control than that. But this time, stopping herself really did seem like a lost cause, so she got out of bed and left her bedroom.

She needed a drink to calm herself!

Joanne noticed Brian before she reached the bottom of the stairs. He was sitting in the living room and it appeared that he was in the middle of a phone call. Joanne could faintly make out the sound of his deep voice. Right then, that gentle voice was filled with warmth and tenderness. Furthermore, from the contents of the conversation, it was not difficult for Joanne to guess the person at the other end of the call was Rosalyn.

Other than those few times when they had been forced to put on a show, Brian had never spoken to Joanne in such a gentle voice before. In fact, she could come up with several occasions when his face clearly expressed his unwillingness to converse with her.

She had always thought that Brian was cold by nature. But it turned out that he was only cold to her by nature.

The warmth of his body, the sensation his touches had evoked in her, and the way he made her pulse race - all vanished from Joanne's mind.

The deluge that had been seething inside Joanne's heart lulled, frozen in an instant. Everything she had been feeling in her heart came to a miraculous halt.

She heaved a sigh of relief before turning around to walk back to her room. She fell asleep shortly after.

When she woke up the next day, Joanne had forgotten everything from the previous day. Instead, all her attention was now focused on the tantalizing breakfast that had been laid out before her. Today, they were having her favorite again - hash browns.

Simon appeared with two copies of the morning paper. He handed Joanne a copy. "Young Madam, there are reports on yesterday's incident. Do you want to have a look?"

Joanne spread out the paper before her. After a moment, she snorted. "The media is so good at making things up these days."

Shockingly, the headline was Unforeseen Turn of Events: 'Brian Puts His Life on the Line Going after His Wife's Kidnappers'. Was there a live coverage when Brian went after the kidnappers? Otherwise, how could they have known that Brian had put his own life at risk?

Joanne was still in the middle of her laughing fit when something else caught her eye. Below the headline was an article about Rosalyn.

Joanne had never been much of a follower of the entertainment biz, so even if Rosalyn's popularity had surged all over Asia, Joanne only ever encountered two news articles about Rosalyn.

Strangely, on both encounters, those articles were of similar content - last time, it was about a drunken Rosalyn in tears. This time, the photo showed Rosalyn wiping her tears at the foot of her home building. The photo was taken in the middle of the night. The speculation was that her tears had been caused by relationship troubles.

"But that's unlikely, isn't it?" Joanne thought. Last night, when she had overheard Brian speaking on the phone, his voice was so warm and gentle. Could it be that a fight broke out afterwards?

Joanne raised her head and sneaked a glance at Brian. He did not seem to have touched the paper at all and his face betrayed no hint of emotion or expression. In the end, Joanne decided to impart her experiences to him.

"Every woman needs a little sweet-talking, you know. It doesn't matter if she's just a girl or if she's a queen," Joanne said earnestly.

Brian raised his head. "Your point being?"

Joanne laid the paper before Brian and pointed at the photo of Rosalyn, which had taken up an entire page. "A little coaxing and sweet-talking would've done the trick. Why involve the press? Don't you know how damaging this is to her reputation?"

Brian set down his fork. A cold smile graced his features. "Who told you that all women need sweet-talking?"

"Shawn, of course!" "That's something he had learned after his many ex-girlfriends. It looks like I won't even be getting thanks after passing it on to you," Joanne said frankly.

"Clack-"

An ear-piercing screech sounded as Brian stood up abruptly. His movements knocked back the stool he had been sitting on. He turned around and left before Joanne could catch a glimpse of his face. His hash browns were left completely untouched.

"Hey, aren't you going to eat?"

Joanne's voice came out in a desperate tone. But Brian just kept walking on without so much as a backward glance. What surprised him was that there was no anger in Joanne at all after reading the article.

"Oh, so he's going to start sweet-talking so soon? Huh. Guess the lesson isn't wasted on him after all!"

Satisfied and contented with herself, Joanne reached for Brian's untouched hash browns. She pulled the entire plate to herself and dug in.

At the door, a disgruntled Brian halted his steps.

He recalled the desperation in her voice when she called out to him just now. Could it be that she was worried about him skipping breakfast?

Feeling lucky, he turned around and headed back. But upon the sight of Joanne gobbling up his breakfast, Brian felt reality hit him squarely in the face: Joanne did not give two hoots whether he had his breakfast or not. She only cared about his hash browns!

Brian gritted his teeth. "That tactless, wretched girl!" he thought.

Simon did not even have to look at Brian to know that Brian was fuming off the top of his head. Feeling troubled, Simon approached Joanne. "Young Madam, actually the Young Master and Miss Rosalyn..."

"Ah." Joanne waved him off. "You don't have to tell me how deeply in love they are with each other. I totally get it."

Simon sighed. "Actually, I'd rather you know less." Even if she knew just a little bit less, the Young Master would not have been that furious.

Joanne did not catch what Simon said at all. At the moment, she just assumed that Simon was mumbling to himself. Happily, she went back to devouring her breakfast.

Joanne headed to the police station after breakfast. The city had been peaceful lately and there were no homicide cases. So a bored Joanne was left sitting in front of her computer, randomly browsing the web.

All of a sudden, she received a URL from Freya from a well-established forum site.

She copied the URL and accessed the forum. It led her to a forum thread posted just this morning. Regardless, it had already received nearly ten thousand replies.

The thread was titled 'OP wants to doxx this mystery woman who made our goddess cry - Brian's Newlywed Wife'.

The OP, whose username was "I Love You Queen Rosalyn" was a netizen from Arlington and clearly a die-hard fan of Rosalyn. No doubt, the OP was distraught by the fact that Rosalyn had bawled her eyes out like a child, twice. The OP also came to the conclusion that the culprit who had reduced Queen Rosalyn to such a state was none other than Brian's mysterious newlywed wife.

So this "I Love You Queen Rosalyn" had called upon the internet, for them to blow the lid off the identity of Brian's wife. It was a form of payback for everything done to Rosalyn. The OP already had several basic information on the matter: 1) Brian's new wife was a citizen of Arlington; 2) Her occupation was special; 3) She had once been a student of Columbia University. Well, since she had shown her face during last night's event, it meant that her identity had already been made known to quite a few people. All things considered, doxxing her would not be difficult...

All this proved that Rosalyn had a staggering number of fans. Plus, with all the information "I Love You Queen Rosalyn" had garnered, more fans were now joining the doxxing mission. Occasionally, there would be "Doxxing-And-Violation-Of-Privacy-Are-Illegal" reminders, but these soon fell by the wayside as posts from other users and "I Love You Queen Rosalyn" flooded the forum.

There were nearly ten thousand replies, ninety percent of which were for the OP. Eighty-five percent had joined the doxxing mission.

Joanne received another text from an anxious Freya: Joanne, you're in danger! Do you want to go overseas into hiding or something?

Joanne stretched herself. Leisurely, she typed out a reply: Which do you think are scarier? Corpses? Or hordes of netizens?

After weighing one option against the other, Freya replied: Dead bodies are scarier.

To which Joanne replied: Alright then, I'm going to examine a few dead bodies now.

The silent implication was that if even corpses could not scare her, then those netizens meant nothing.

Freya replied with a lengthy sequence of ellipses and exclamation points. Freya intended it to convey the admiration and awe she felt towards Joanne.

Joanne was exceptionally calm in the face of everything - corpses and what not, she really could not care less.

Then her phone rang. It was an incoming call from Iris.

"Auntie!"

"Joanne!" Iris sounded edgy and agitated. "Goodness, an incident that big... why didn't you tell me anything about what happened last night? If I hadn't seen the morning papers, I would have no idea at all you've been kidnapped. How are you? Are you hurt?"

The old lady's ramblings had overwhelmed Joanne a little. But still, the concern behind the old lady's voice did not elude Joanne. It evoked a feeling in Joanne that was profound and... hard to tell. It felt a lot like warmth.

Joanne smiled. "Auntie, I'm fine. I'm practically half a cop, remember? I wouldn't go down that easily."

"I'm still worried. I should come down to the station and see you." Iris sounded very insistent.

It was not that Joanne did not welcome Iris's presence at the station. Just that Joanne had no way of explaining to her colleagues her relationship with this lady of status. Joanne thought for a moment. "Auntie, I'm really fine. You don't have to come down just to check on me. Tomorrow's a weekend so I don't have to work overtime. Why don't I go and see you?!"

In that moment, Iris realized that her hasty visit to the station might inconvenience Joanne's work. She nodded. "That is fine too. I'll wait for you at home, then!"

"Okay."

When Joanne ended the call, a happy smile adorned her lips.

She had not experienced maternal love since she was 15. But Iris's words and actions brought back the feelings of being loved and cared for by a mother. To Joanne, that feeling was a long time coming. Plus, other than that secret reason, Iris was the other reason she had agreed to this marriage with Brian.

Joanne liked this old lady who was both interesting and optimistic. Joanne would like to treat her like her mother.

Now that she had plans for the weekend, Joanne was in an exceptionally good mood. After breakfast the following day, Joanne grabbed the tea she had bought yesterday and was about to leave the house.

Brian noticed Joanne's jolly mood. So when she was about to leave, he called out to her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see auntie." All of a sudden, Joanne remembered that the man standing before her right then was none other than Auntie Iris's son. "Want to go together? If we go together, Auntie Iris will perhaps be very happy!"

She stared at him, blinking. It was as if the entire weight of her anticipation was resting on her fluttering eyelashes.

For a moment, Brian was thrown into a daze. What Joanne had said was true. He never thought that Joanne, a woman who always acted as if she did not have a single care in the world, would possess such a strong sense of filial piety. Even more surprising was the fact that the object of Joanne's filial piety was his own mother.

Joanne thought she had detected some hesitation in Brian. So she stared at him again, her peach blossom eyes widening. "What's there to hesitate when it's your own mother you're going to see? What an unfilial son!"

"..." The corner of Brian's lips twitched.

"Fine. Don't go." Joanne turned around and began stepping out. "I'll go alone."

Brian reached out and clutched Joanne's hand in his own. Then, after he had grabbed his car keys, he pulled her out the door. Within the depths of his eyes, displeasure lurked still. "Who says I'm not going?" In fact, Gavin had invited him to a game of golf in the suburbs today.

Joanne smiled. "I knew it! Our Brian wouldn't be the unfilial type."

Brian was speechless.

Joanne darted a look at her own hand, the one tightly clasped in Brian's. Inadvertently, a tiny smile formed on her lips.

Hand in hand, Joanne and Brian were on their way to visit Iris. It was something that Joanne had not even dared to imagine in the past, and yet right now, it was happening in full swing. It was as if a palette of colors had suddenly burst open, painting the road ahead of them with vibrant shades. In that moment, there was a sense of satisfaction in every nook and corner of her heart.

She felt a sudden urge to shout out to her deceased mother: at least in this very moment, she was happy and satisfied.

Just for this moment alone, she was willing to weather any storm.