A five-year-old child stands in the center of the funeral hall, looking at the framed photographs of his parents placed side by side.
He wears a small black suit, with white flowers sewn onto the cuffs.
His thin figure is reflected on the wall flickering with candlelight, appearing exceptionally frail.
On that day, he only stood before the mourning hall, his eyes reddened for a moment, as a silent tear fell and shattered on the cold tiles.
From then on, his face never showed signs of tears again.
At such a tender age, he began burying himself in the study.
Day and night, he poured over incomprehensible laws, strategies, and psychology books.
The tutor, halfway through a lesson, was often stumped by his questions.
Later tutors, upon hearing they were to teach the young master of the Lockwood Family, turned back even before entering.
Yet Landon Lockwood never complained of tiredness, nor lamented, simply sealing himself with layers of knowledge.
