Luo Jun later disembarked alone.

When the sky was about to brighten, Ming Lu had someone bring Luo Chengxiu out for some fresh air and saw a figure lingering in the fog on the pier.

Luo Chengxiu’s condition didn’t seem any better either.

Ming Lu had seen many people like him, who were profit-driven and ungrateful.

It was nothing more than thinking that nothing was more important than business matters, and naturally looking down on the physical and mental suffering of others.

Minor injuries and illnesses weren’t worth being dramatic about, people coming and going weren’t worth caring about, and nothing was ever so serious that it required one to be in agony and despair, wishing for death.

Until now, Luo Chengxiu didn’t even understand what the son he claimed he was “already prepared to treat well” had actually gone through.

Luo Chengxiu even still thought that Luo Zhi had just gotten a little sick and was feeling unwell.

He still thought that Luo Zhi had merely had a dispute with Luo Jun on the cruise ship, and because the ship happened to have an accident, he and Jian Huaiyi, who was protecting him, were pushed off the tilting ship’s side by Luo Jun.

Luo Chengxiu treated this as an accident with his eldest son as the perpetrator.

The Ming family was not unreasonable, so they merely brought Luo Chengxiu into the reception room in the cabin, invited the head of the Luo family to sit down for tea, and found someone to read him Luo Zhi’s injury assessments and medical records from all these years.

The reception room was very strange, with four extremely narrow walls, no windows, and a ceiling so high it seemed endless. No matter how one looked up, one could only see an empty darkness.

Luo Chengxiu sat on the cold concrete floor, looking at the cup of high-grade Yuqian tea brewed in front of him, and listened to all this without a word.

He hid in the shadow that seemed to have no warmth, and after a long silence, he finally spoke in a low voice, “I understand. It was my fault.”

So that was what Mr. Ming wanted. No wonder the Luo family had been pushed to this point.

Luo Chengxiu clenched his fists tightly. He chose his words cautiously, his tone noticeably stiff and unnatural. “It was me who failed to fulfill my responsibility. All these years, towards him…”

“You’ve probably gotten it wrong, Mr. Luo,” Ming Lu raised a hand to interrupt. “Have you memorized it?”

Luo Chengxiu was stunned into speechlessness. “…What?”

“How well have you memorized it?” Ming Lu said, his face kind, his back to the sliver of light coming from the door, as he took the injury assessment from his hand.

Ming Lu’s tone was very gentle, as if he were quizzing a teenager struggling with his studies. “How much have you memorized?”

Luo Chengxiu’s mind went blank for a moment.

He had always been sensitive to crises, and at this moment, a strong sense of unease arose for no reason. “He, his ears are not good…”

“Why are they not good?” Ming Lu asked.

Luo Chengxiu’s heaving chest suddenly hitched.

“Why are they not good?” Ming Lu, probably thinking he hadn’t heard clearly, asked again. “Head of the Luo family, do you remember?”

Luo Chengxiu shivered, a chill slowly creeping up his spine.

…He instinctively realized that if he couldn’t answer now, there might be more severe consequences.

Luo Chengxiu desperately searched his mind for any remaining impressions. His body was stiff on the cold, hard concrete floor, sweat slowly seeping from his forehead.

…He hadn’t been listening too carefully.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen or understand, it was just that he had too many things to consider at that time.

How could the Ming family be made to stop? How could he cover this deficit? Which assets had to be sold so that the Luo family wouldn’t collapse instantly? After being severely weakened, how could he avoid being devoured by the surrounding rivals?

Luo Jun probably couldn’t be relied on in his current state. Could Jian Huaiyi support the Luo family? No, what was he thinking? Was he really going to hand the Luo family over to an adopted son with no blood relations…

Forced by the situation to come to the Ming family, sitting in this reception room, his mind was filled with all these messy things.

While looking at the injury assessment, the medical records, and listening to the person read them out in a flat, chanting tone, although he had briefly formed some concept of the content, it was quickly overshadowed by more thoughts.

…He had even subconsciously felt a faint annoyance.

He knew that son had been wronged, he knew Luo Zhi had been injured a lot, but what time was it now? Why could Luo Zhi never learn to be more sensible, always causing him trouble when he was at his busiest and most frustrated—

Then he suddenly remembered, Luo Zhi seemed to be dead.

Luo Chengxiu raised his head.

He looked at Ming Lu and suddenly remembered what Ming Lu had said to Luo Jun on the deck earlier.

Luo Zhi was in that water.

Luo Zhi had indeed learned to be sensible; he would never come to annoy him again.

“Mr. Luo,” Ming Lu called out to him.

Luo Chengxiu came back to his senses. He suddenly saw clearly what was in Ming Lu’s hand—it was an hourglass.

The fine sand in the hourglass was flowing slowly, at a steady pace. Nothing could stop the sand, because it had long lost its shape and was just falling downwards.

Ming Lu placed the hourglass on the table. “There’s not much time left.”

Luo Chengxiu’s chest sank heavily along with the hourglass. He suddenly became clear-headed, clenched his fists, and forced himself to speak. “It was… he was beaten by someone, someone hit him…”

Even at this point, he was only guessing; it was impossible for him to provide more details.

Luo Chengxiu knew very well that this kind of answer would not satisfy the other party. He watched the sand slowly run out, and two sturdy figures slowly walked up to him. Even his pupils contracted involuntarily.

He was dragged up by the arms and led into an even darker and colder corridor.

The fear brought on by sensory deprivation multiplied. He heard his own legs, too weak to support him, being dragged and stumbling. He heard his own rapid, deep gasps for air, and he also heard Ming Lu’s unhurried footsteps beside him.

“He was saving that girl from your family. Seven or eight people were chasing him. He ran with the girl on his back, but he couldn’t get away, so he went back to lead those people away.”

Ming Lu said, “Those people, enraged by shame, beat him until he stopped moving.”

These people were later personally sent to prison by the evidence Luo Chi had collected. Their sentences would be longer than their lifetimes. It was not difficult to obtain the real transcripts of the situation at that time.

This information was all noted on the injury assessment given to Luo Chengxiu. Since he hadn’t memorized it, Ming Lu read it to him again.

This time, Luo Chengxiu finally, thoroughly, took in the content.

He had nothing else to listen to, and nothing else to think about.

The details were frighteningly real. He could almost see himself being meticulously retaliated against and tortured with the same methods. The intense fear and pressure made him tremble uncontrollably, cold sweat streaming down.

In his field of vision, there was only a deep darkness. A cold chill seeped into his skin, and the sound of footsteps echoed neither lightly nor heavily.

“Head of the Luo family,” Ming Lu finally finished the last word. “Did you ever think that it would have been better if that child had died that day?”

Luo Chengxiu’s spirit had been tortured to its limit. He couldn’t control his rage at such an accusation. “How could that be! That’s my son! Why would I think that, how could I think that—”

Ming Lu was silent for a moment, looking at him. “Then why did you do it?”

Luo Chengxiu’s mouth was wide open, and he stood stunned.

His expression was twisted and ferocious, cold sweat dripping down, looking almost wretchedly comical.

…What ‘why did you do it’?

What had he done? Had he been pushing his own son to his death after Luo Zhi came back?

Luo Chengxiu became uncontrollably irritable.

He shook his head desperately, wanting to find any business or family matter to think about. He didn’t want to think about these things anymore… It would be best if these people just started torturing him now.

Yes, it would be best to do it now.

It would be best if these people came to take revenge on him now, to inflict all the harm Luo Zhi had suffered on him. Then the scores would be settled, and he would no longer be tortured by these messy thoughts.

After the Luo family caught its breath, he would transfer the family’s assets as quickly as possible and never touch the maritime business again. When he had free time, he would have a long time to think back on matters related to Luo Zhi. He would go to Luo Zhi’s grave and talk to that son…

Ming Lu pushed open a door.

Luo Chengxiu had long lost any semblance of composure. He limply let himself be dragged, thrown in like a pile of mud.

He closed his eyes tightly, even eagerly waiting for the fists and feet that were about to fall on him.

Now there’s nothing to blame, right?

He had paid the debt he owed that son in his own way. He had willingly suffered the hardships Luo Zhi had suffered.

The harm that he, as a father, had failed to shield Luo Zhi from when he was alive, was now being returned to him piece by piece, inflicted upon him. This way, the score would be settled.

Luo Chengxiu waited anxiously. He even began to consider whether he should deliberately provoke those people to be more ruthless, to let the Ming family’s anger be vented as quickly as possible, so that the Luo family might have a chance of survival…

The wait was a bit too long.

Luo Chengxiu finally vaguely sensed something was wrong and opened his eyes.

In his entire field of vision, there was only a deep, thick darkness, without a trace of light.

Only he was left, no one else.

Ming Lu had left with his men.

Luo Chengxiu’s limbs were weak. After a long while, he struggled to prop himself up, his hands trembling as he reached out to feel his surroundings.

It was not only dark but also deathly silent here, the space exceptionally cramped and small. He couldn’t even stand up straight. The surroundings were like thick iron plates; no matter how he knocked, he could only hear his own echo.

The darkness was so thick it seemed to have become liquid. There never seemed to be enough air, and his chest began to convulse.

Luo Chengxiu smashed and yelled like a madman until he was finally exhausted and collapsed back down.

He gasped for breath with great effort, habitually trying to fill his mind with thoughts, but after searching for a long time, he found nothing. His reason was defeated by the fear accumulated from this slow, agonizing torture, and finally, only the things he had just heard remained.

…Had he ever thought that it would have been better if that child had died that day?

If not… why did he do it?

“No,” Luo Chengxiu shook his head heavily. “It’s not like that.”

“I did it for our family. Punishing you was to make you remember, to make you sensible. I didn’t want to torture you.”

Luo Chengxiu stared into the darkness before him, his voice hoarse and dry. “I didn’t intentionally want to torture you.”

“I didn’t realize you were so seriously ill. I didn’t know you were in so much pain,” Luo Chengxiu said in a low voice, trembling. “You’re just like that, this child, you keep everything to yourself. Why didn’t you say anything? If you had said something, I would have known. You—”

“Dad,” he heard Luo Zhi’s voice, “After I die.”

Luo Zhi said, “Scatter my ashes in the sea too.”

Luo Chengxiu felt as if a cold touch had wrapped around his throat.

He closed his mouth and slowly looked behind him.

…Luo Zhi rarely spoke to him.

It wasn’t Luo Zhi’s problem; it was that he didn’t want to listen.

Either because he didn’t have time, or because seeing Luo Zhi made him irritable—in his view, anything related to Luo Zhi always brought a lot of inexplicable trouble.

Luo Zhi ran off with his sister and got lost, and then his wife’s mental state became a problem.

Luo Zhi was found, and then the family’s business situation suddenly took a sharp downturn.

Every time Luo Zhi came to the Luo family, he would cause the whole family to be restless. Either he would make unreasonable trouble, pettily dealing with an adopted son, letting outsiders watch the Luo family’s jokes…

The last time he had spoken calmly with Luo Zhi was at Ren Shuangmei’s funeral.

The child of the Ren family couldn’t accept his mother’s sudden death. It was said he had fainted from excessive grief and was still recuperating in the hospital, so it was Luo Zhi who acted as the pallbearer.

A small boy, dressed in a solemn black formal suit, bowed to everyone who came.

He had to bow to every person. Each time that figure bent down, it looked as if it would never get up again, but he would just clench his hands until they trembled and slowly raise his exceptionally pale face.

There was a small injury on Luo Zhi’s forehead, covered by a dressing.

The injury was from a conflict with the Ren family. Ren Shuangmei’s last wish was to have her ashes scattered in the sea, but the Ren family disagreed.

In the heat of the argument, the old master, infuriated, had struck him, heavily bringing his cane down on Luo Zhi’s head, asking him what right he had to speak there.

Luo Zhi failed to accomplish this.

He acted as a pallbearer for Ren Chenbai, watching the urn of ashes being buried in the cemetery with the best feng shui, watching the guests come and go, sighing with emotion.

The burnt paper ash was scattered by the wind, and the sky grew completely dark. Luo Zhi still stood in that spot, not having moved at all.

…After the funeral, Luo Chengxiu did not leave immediately like everyone else, because he had to take Luo Zhi with him.

When Ren Shuangmei was alive, he could still leave Luo Zhi at the Ren family to be looked after.

Now that she was gone, and that unpleasant conflict had arisen, leaving Luo Zhi there was undoubtedly no longer appropriate.

Luo Chengxiu knew that Luo Zhi could never be trouble-free—to even have a conflict with the Ren family at a funeral, making things so tense. He didn’t know how he would repay the social favors involved now.

He was angry when he went to find Luo Zhi, but for some reason, that time they met, his anger couldn’t be vented.

…Perhaps it was because Luo Zhi looked so wrong at that time.

It was very cold that day. The sky was overcast, and it had started snowing in the evening.

By the time the sky was completely dark, the snow had already piled up thickly.

Luo Chengxiu’s assistant went to pull Luo Zhi, and with a slight tug, Luo Zhi fell into the snow.

The assistant was startled and half-pulled, half-dragged Luo Zhi into the car. Luo Zhi’s right leg was stiff and wouldn’t bend, and he couldn’t be fitted into the seat no matter what.

After struggling for a long time, Luo Zhi seemed to come back to his senses from a state of complete isolation from the outside world.

Luo Zhi slowly apologized to the assistant, slowly curled up his body, and slowly sat in the cramped space of the back seat.

Luo Chengxiu sat in the passenger seat, watching them struggle, and impatiently signaled the driver to turn up the heat.

…Forget it.

Luo Chengxiu thought.

He knew Luo Zhi had the best relationship with Ren Shuangmei. Ren Shuangmei had also stood up for Luo Zhi quite a bit, coming to his door to cause trouble for him.

Now that she was gone, he wasn’t so heartless as to make things difficult for a child at a time like this.

“Get a blanket yourself,” Luo Chengxiu instructed in a deep voice, then couldn’t help but frown. “Your Auntie Ren passed away. How can you not even cry?”

Luo Zhi sat with his knees hugged for a while before slightly raising his head. “Passed away.”

He said these two words softly, his volume very low. After a pause, he asked again, “Does everyone cry?”

“Of course, people with a heart will cry,” Luo Chengxiu was a little annoyed. “If some people don’t even have a heart, then there’s nothing to be done. It’s useless to force it.”

Why did he say such a thing at that time?

After blurting it out, Luo Chengxiu himself felt it was a bit too much, so he waited for Luo Zhi to talk back.

Being able to talk back and refute was at least better than this soulless state.

But Luo Zhi said nothing, just gave a soft “mm” and buried his face in his arms again.

Seeing him like this, Luo Chengxiu felt even more annoyed. After a long while, he suddenly said, “If you’re feeling down, it’s not impossible for you to stay at home for a while.”

Luo Zhi’s shoulders trembled slightly.

The hand gripping his arm unconsciously tightened. He slowly raised his head and looked at Luo Chengxiu.

Luo Chengxiu had actually regretted it as soon as he said it. After all, the house would definitely be thrown into turmoil. His wife’s illness had been recurring for years; how could she bear the stimulation of Luo Zhi appearing before her?

“Just say… he’s the child of a distant relative.”

Luo Chengxiu pressed his brow hard and thought of a compromise. “Staying at our house for a few days.”

“I’ll have someone arrange your room far from the main house. You usually don’t go out. I’ll have someone send food over,” Luo Chengxiu said. “After a while, I’ll buy you a house somewhere else, and you can move out then.”

He thought this was a very considerate idea and had done his best to accommodate Luo Zhi’s situation, but after he finished speaking, he heard no reply from Luo Zhi for a long time.

Luo Zhi just stared at him fixedly.

Luo Chengxiu’s expression turned a little cold. He glanced at the rearview mirror. “Answer.”

“No,” Luo Zhi said slowly. “No need, thank you.”

Luo Zhi shook his head. “I’ll go to Sea-view Villa. Auntie Ren said I can go to Sea-view.”

Sea-view Villa was not close to the Ren family’s main residence. It was a good place to escape the summer heat, but in this kind of severe winter weather, probably no one in the Ren family would have a sudden whim to go there to feel the sea breeze.

Seeing that he was sensible, Luo Chengxiu also relaxed and signaled the driver to drive towards the seaside.

Luo Zhi sat in the car for a while, and that soulless state improved a lot.

Luo Zhi apologized for his earlier state and then politely asked Luo Chengxiu if he could trouble the driver to take him to the seaside first, a place far from Sea-view Villa, where the tide was the strongest.

Perhaps because there were few times when father and son had such a calm conversation, Luo Chengxiu agreed as if possessed.

The car stopped by the roadside. Luo Zhi got out and sat on the reefs, watching the waves.

Luo Chengxiu stood under the reefs, smoking.

He happened to have nothing urgent to do that day, so he had some rare patience for Luo Zhi.

Luo Chengxiu looked at the right hand Luo Zhi had been clenching ever since he got in the car. “What is it?”

“Hair,” Luo Zhi said. “Auntie Ren’s.”

He had secretly cut off a small strand and had been hiding it in his palm, undetected.

Luo Chengxiu frowned. He probably guessed what this was for. Although he didn’t understand the meaning, he still asked, “Should I find something for you to put it in?”

Luo Zhi shook his head.

He suddenly opened his palm. The strands of hair were swept up by the sea breeze and disappeared in an instant.

“Auntie Ren likes the sea. She said she wanted to sleep in the sea,” Luo Zhi said. “Auntie Ren wanted me to be a captain.”

Luo Zhi said, “I will have a small boat that no storm can capsize.”

Luo Chengxiu couldn’t stand him like this. The irritation he had just suppressed rose again, and he spoke coldly, “Alright, there’s no such thing.”

“Have you had enough?” The weather was too cold. Luo Chengxiu extinguished the cigarette, his patience finally running out. “If you’ve had enough, get in the car. I’ll take you to Sea-view.”

Luo Zhi seemed not to hear him.

Luo Chengxiu completely lost his patience and turned to leave.

Luo Zhi sat on the reefs behind him. Actually, Luo Zhi’s voice was not soft, probably so that the strands of hair swept away by the wind to sleep in the sea could hear.

“Happily and joyfully.”

“I will go and find, find many people who like me, find many happy things.”

“I will find someone I like and bring them to see Auntie Ren.”

“I will live.”

Luo Zhi’s voice trembled as he promised intermittently, “I will live, live to be eighty.”

…The icy seawater dragged him out of his memory.

Water, rushing in from somewhere unknown, was rising faster and faster. In a short while, it had already submerged his chest.

Luo Chengxiu shivered violently. He forcefully pushed away the water and smashed at the thick iron cabin walls with even greater force.

The surging salty seawater slapped against his face, forcing its way into his mouth and nose, pushing the air out of his lungs. In his ears, there was only the roaring sound of water crashing against his eardrums.

Is this how Luo Zhi fell asleep?

Luo Chengxiu instinctively opened his mouth to gasp for air, but could only swallow more seawater. He finally realized that he was truly a stubborn person—so stubborn that it was only at a time like this that he was willing to think about these things.

He remembered every lie Luo Zhi had told at the seaside.

Luo Zhi was lying there, using the most clumsy lies to deceive Ren Shuangmei, who could no longer teach him a lesson. It wasn’t hard to distinguish a child’s lying tone. Could it be that he couldn’t tell? If he couldn’t tell, he wouldn’t still remember it now.

Luo Zhi had never asked him for anything, nor had he ever said anything about scattering the ashes in the sea.

It was he himself who subconsciously thought about how Luo Zhi would say this to him. It was he himself who consoled himself that Luo Zhi probably also wanted to sleep in the sea, so this result was not so bad.

He told himself this every night before sleep: sleeping in the sea isn’t hard to endure; Luo Zhi didn’t suffer much.

His chest and lungs ached suffocatingly, his eardrums tearing. Luo Chengxiu’s consciousness began to blur in waves. Then suddenly, someone pulled open a door, and he fell heavily along with the gushing seawater.

Luo Chengxiu coughed incessantly. He guessed he might have coughed up his lungs; his entire chest felt empty, only a burning pain and the smell of blood. He was helped up and taken to the deck for fresh air. Ming Lu stood beside him, still with a very gentle expression.

“Please be a little quieter, Head of the Luo family,” Ming Lu said. “The volume of the video should not be too loud.”

Luo Chengxiu lay limply on the deck, gasping for breath, staring blankly at the figure lingering on the pier below the ship.

…What video?

…Ming Weiting took off his headphones.

The volume of the video had not caused any impact.

The master of the Ming family was not interested in torturing people. He just dragged the progress bar and glanced at it a few times before closing the computer and handing it to Ming Lu, then sat back down by Luo Chi’s bed.

Luo Chi’s eyes were closed. His complexion was alright, but he was not sleeping peacefully.

He seemed to be in a dream unknown to outsiders. His breathing was a bit rapid, his eyelashes fluttered gently, and moisture silently seeped out.

Ming Lu was a little worried. “Should we call a doctor?”

“Not for now,” Ming Weiting shook his head. He had checked the data on the monitoring equipment and enclosed Luo Chi’s hand, which was hanging by the side of the bed.

He was learning to infer emotions based on Luo Chi’s subtle reactions. Now that Luo Chi was in a deep sleep, without the instinctive concealment of when he was awake, it was not very difficult to judge.

If he wasn’t mistaken, Luo Chi should not be in a very bad dream.

…Luo Chi was in a not-at-all-bad dream.

After Auntie Ren passed away, he saw Auntie Ren in his dream for the first time.

Luo Chi had been reflecting, reflecting for many years. He thought Auntie Ren must be angry with him.

Maybe it was because he had lied and Auntie Ren had seen through it at a glance, so she wanted to punish him.

Maybe it was because he couldn’t fulfill Auntie Ren’s wish, leaving Auntie Ren trapped in that luxurious and uninteresting cemetery, so she couldn’t come to find him.

So he often went to that cemetery. He tied himself to that grave and never went far. He had already broken his promise, so he definitely couldn’t let Auntie Ren be bored.

But he still couldn’t dream of Auntie Ren, no matter what. The closest time was probably during that shipwreck. He was sinking in the water, saw Auntie Ren’s shadow, and joyfully flew over, only to grasp at empty air.

For the first time, Luo Chi saw the person he so wanted to see in his dream.

He couldn’t say anything. He wanted to pretend he was living a super-duper happy life, wanted to make up many happy things to tell Auntie Ren, but his body seemed to have melted.

Except for the outer shell, everything else had turned into water, rushing to gush out of his eyes.

He cried so hard he couldn’t breathe, biting his arm to try to hold it back. He was gently patted on the head by Auntie Ren, and then forcefully pulled into an embrace by the arms protecting him from behind.

Auntie Ren lowered her head and smiled at him, booped his nose to tease him, and gently pinched his earlobe.

Luo Chi raised his hand and randomly wiped away the tears.

“Oh no,” he said softly. “Oh no, Auntie.”

“I owe so many paintings. How did I owe so many? Over a hundred.”

Luo Chi’s voice was super quiet. “I might have to paint until I’m eighty.”