Mr. Shadow said it could be an unbelievably long time.

Longer than eighty years.

Long enough to do everything he wanted to do, to visit every place he wanted to go.

Ming Weiting squatted down in front of the wheelchair. He thought for a moment, then slowly began to tell Luo Chi about the scenery at sea.

People on the shore see the sea as vast and distant, but once you’re actually on the water, you discover that different seas have many variations.

On the best of days, the seawater stirred by a gentle breeze will form delicate layers. Sunlight will be sprinkled on it like fine gold dust, different from every angle, and the water will turn a jewel-like blue-green.

At night, the sea and the sky will merge into one, but they aren’t hard to tell apart because there will be lights at the horizon. The lights will outline the silent silhouettes of buildings, and all that light and shadow will be reflected in the water, as if copying a small, independent world.

In winter, it’s best to be nestled in a room on a cruise ship. The sea then is a cool, indifferent blue-gray. Frost flowers will form on the window, and the warm steam in the room will coat it with a layer of mist.

The sea in summer is perfect for diving. When the sun has calmed the surface, there will be schools of colorful fish underwater. In places where people often snorkel, the fish are no longer afraid and will proactively swim around the divers…

Just seeing all the changes in the sea’s scenery would take decades, and then you have to go ashore.

There are even more different landscapes on shore. You have to greet the wind in every place, touch the ripples in every stream, and chase the stars you love.

Ming Weiting was not used to talking so much.

He had indeed wanted to tell Luo Chi these things for a long time and had prepared for it, but before he spoke, he still considered what to do after he had said everything.

…

Only when he was actually telling Luo Chi these things, looking into his eyes, did he realize such considerations were unnecessary.

Luo Chi listened with rapt attention. Because his hearing was still weak from recovery, he made an extra effort to read his lips.

Ming Weiting’s pace was slow, which made it easy for him to understand. Though Luo Chi’s body was confined to the wheelchair, the anticipation in his eyes gathered drop by drop, growing clearer and brighter.

Ming Weiting held Luo Chi’s hand, squatting before the wheelchair and looking up at him.

He thought that anyone being looked at by Luo Chi like this would probably be unable to resist wanting to search their entire memory and tell him everything.

“…If you recover well, you can live for a very long time.”

Ming Weiting finally answered him, “We’ll visit all these places, then settle down in one place to rest for as long as we spent traveling, and then we’ll do it all over again.”

Luo Chi couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s too long.”

He was so captivated by the prospect that, despite his words, his anticipation was completely unconcealed. He even wanted to go to sea the moment he recovered.

A smile appeared in Ming Weiting’s eyes as well. He stroked Luo Chi’s hair and said softly, “It’s not long.”

The current Luo Chi still didn’t remember many things, and sometimes Ming Weiting wished he could stay that way, remembering nothing. But seeing the video Luo Chi recorded for the distribution of his inheritance, inside the villa Mrs. Ren had given him, this thought changed again.

Until the surgery, the traces of everything that had happened would still be hidden in that dense fog.

Luo Chi was walking out from the inside, and sooner or later, he would have to pass through them.

…

But at least for now, a sea was waiting at the end of the fog.

“It’s not long,” Ming Weiting invited him. “Huo Miao, come play at sea as soon as you’re well.”

The corners of Luo Chi’s lips lifted uncontrollably. He nodded vigorously, but the quick movement brought on a strong wave of dizziness.

As he fell into Ming Weiting’s arms, Luo Chi realized that the sky had, at some point, turned completely dark. He had no strength left in his body, unable to even move a finger.

A long-forgotten, extremely relaxing fatigue enveloped him—the last similar impression seemed to be a bonfire party. He had been so happy, so tired he didn’t want to lift a finger. He had showered with his eyes closed, dried himself haphazardly with a towel, and staggered to fall headfirst onto a soft, large bed.

…How could it be this comfortable.

He was definitely the luckiest person in the world.

Ming Weiting lifted Luo Chi out of the wheelchair, letting him rest his head on his shoulder.

Luo Chi was already a little drowsy. He was still processing what Ming Weiting had said, rehearsing it over and over in his mind because he wasn’t sure if he would forget. “Mr. Shadow.”

Ming Weiting looked down at him. “What is it?”

Luo Chi remembered he had to find the wind and the streams. Those weren’t difficult. He had once gone hiking with Auntie Ren, and there were often streams in the deeper parts of the mountain forests, flowing and gathering in the cool, shaded crevices of the rocks.

Luo Chi was stuck on the third line. “How do you chase the stars you love?”

He waited for a while but didn’t hear an immediate reply as he usually would.

…

Luo Chi gathered the last bit of strength in his body and managed to open his eyes a little, just in time to meet Ming Weiting’s gaze.

Ming Weiting nodded and, surprisingly, also asked, “How do you chase them?”

Luo Chi looked at him in astonishment.

“I’m not quite sure,” Ming Weiting continued. “I haven’t succeeded yet.”

Ming Weiting said, “I was invited to be a guest. It’s dark now, and I’m still outside the door.”

Luo Chi froze for two seconds. Looking into Ming Weiting’s eyes, he suddenly realized what he was talking about.

Connecting this with Mr. Shadow’s deadpan self-introductions over the past few days, Luo Chi didn’t know what tickled his funny bone, but he suddenly burst out laughing. “How can you be so mean?”

“How can you be so mean.” Ming Weiting had learned from the internet, and now he was learning from Ming Weiting. “It’s so dark, and you still won’t invite your lucky fan inside.”

…Ming Weiting actually nodded.

This time, Luo Chi couldn’t stop laughing. His head was still dizzy, and laughing made it throb with pain, with clusters of golden stars popping in the black fog before his eyes, but it couldn’t stop the tide of happiness that kept surging up.

Noticing the subtle tremor caused by the lurking pain, Ming Weiting frowned. He freed a hand to touch Luo Chi’s forehead but found that Luo Chi’s body was also struggling to exert effort.

Luo Chi’s bangs were slightly damp, and his cool, wet forehead gently rested against his palm a moment before he could touch it.

“Please come back with me,” Luo Chi’s pale lips pressed together as he softly invited him. “Mr. Shadow, I want to take you back to meet someone.”

…

He brought Mr. Shadow back to the villa.

As they opened the door, Ming Lu was actually still a little worried.

The main house was the part that had been most severely altered. Although they had tried their best to restore it, it was, after all, a design from ten years ago. Even the designer wasn’t completely confident they could restore it perfectly, making it exactly the same as before.

Ming Lu didn’t know if Luo Chi would notice anything amiss. He had already prepared a few excuses and was about to step forward to explain when he silenced himself.

Luo Chi had used up the last of his strength on that invitation.

He hadn’t processed so much information in a long time. The dizziness was severe, and he had passed out from exhaustion before even making it through the door.

Ming Weiting had one hand supporting his back and nodded at Ming Lu.

Luo Chi’s body was completely limp, his head and neck hanging low as he rested quietly on Ming Weiting’s shoulder, his breathing even and shallow.

Ming Lu lightened his steps and turned off the brightest chandelier in the center of the living room, leaving only a soft ambient light.

“The young master’s room is on the second floor. It has an excellent view and is next to what was originally Mrs. Ren’s room.”

Ming Lu said in a low voice, “We restored it as much as possible, but there might still be some discrepancies in the details.”

Ming Weiting nodded. He wasn’t in a hurry to take Luo Chi upstairs. Instead, he walked to the sofa by the fireplace.

The fireplace had been abandoned for a long time. It was Ming Lu who had brought people to repair and renovate it this time.

The red brick wall was a bit rough, not intentionally polished, which gave it a heavy gentleness. After the main light was turned off, the living room was slightly dim, making the warm, burning firelight seem exceptionally bright.

The sofa was not far from the fireplace. Ming Weiting sat down, holding Luo Chi, and stroked his hair.

The flickering firelight fell on Luo Chi’s pale features. Ming Weiting raised his hand and gently touched the space between his eyebrows.

Although he was unconscious, Luo Chi seemed to sense the warmth so close to him. His body relaxed, and his brows, knitted from pain, gradually smoothed out.

The fireplace was warm and bright, and the shadows were held by the firelight.

…

Ming Lu brought a thin blanket, quietly placed it by the sofa, and left on tiptoe.

All the cameras that had been installed throughout the villa had been removed. All traces of irrelevant people from the past ten years had been thoroughly erased, but everything that had happened remained in the video footage.

Even without the footage, the reality of what had happened could not be erased so simply.

Many things had happened outside these past few days, and many past events had been dredged up.

…After the notary office began contacting the heirs of Luo Zhi’s estate and started processing the related matters according to standard procedures.

The first change occurred at Huaisheng Entertainment.

Ming Lu had actually prepared funds long ago, ready to acquire the company at the right time to completely sever its ties with the Luo family—Luo Chengxiu was practically desperate to give it away for free. On the first day on the ship, Luo Chengxiu had actually brought the transfer contract for Huaisheng Entertainment.

Ming Lu had someone throw that contract into the water.

Ming Lu had someone fish out the soggy contract and asked Luo Chengxiu to swallow it himself.

He looked at the frowning, bewildered Luo Chengxiu and actually felt just as confused. “Patriarch Luo.”

“In your eyes, what exactly is this company?”

Ming Lu truly couldn’t understand. “A toy?”

Was it the kind of toy you carelessly toss to a child? So you throw it to one son, then on a whim, you snatch it back and give it to another, and now that there’s trouble, you snatch it again to give it away.

Completely unconcerned about how severely this hasty, childish, and chaotic transfer would damage the company. Not caring how many points it would cost Huaisheng Entertainment in the industry’s evaluation, how many opportunities it would miss… just because in Patriarch Luo’s eyes, such a peripheral enterprise wasn’t worth much thought.

What Luo Chengxiu cared about were the pillar industries of the family. The entertainment sector had no connection to the Luo family, and they had no intention of developing in that area.

In Luo Chengxiu’s view, spending any extra thought on this company was a waste.

“Patriarch Luo, the Ming family will not acquire this company now.”

Ming Lu told him, “We will wait. We’ll wait until you are begging for this company to stay.”

At that time, Luo Chengxiu was slumped on the deck.

He was thinking about the cargo in those few containers, struggling to swallow the paper pulp, completely unable to understand what Ming Lu was saying.

…

Luo Chengxiu was still lying in the hospital now.

The series of intense shocks that day had finally been too much for him. He fell ill and tumbled down the stairs from the second floor.

His condition was critical. If not for the timely rescue, he might never have woken up again.

How could the Ming family let him not wake up.

Having escaped danger, Luo Chengxiu, the once-glorious Patriarch Luo, quickly became haggard and worn, as if he had aged decades overnight.

Luo Jun had long stopped coming home, Luo Cheng had run away, and the only one by his bedside was, surprisingly, Jian Huaiyi.

Luo Chengxiu looked at Jian Huaiyi almost as if he were looking at a snake he had personally brought to his bosom.

He would rather hire a caregiver, rather have no one to look after him, and just die in the hospital.

The Ming family wouldn’t let him die. The Ming family wanted him to live to see how the Luo family collapsed, to live to bear the torment Luo Chi had suffered.

Luo Chengxiu roared for Jian Huaiyi to get out, yet he was still being cared for flawlessly by that adopted son.

—How touching.

The family was collapsing, deserted by everyone, like rats fleeing a sinking ship.

Only the adopted son remained, not abandoning him, personally caring for his gravely ill father even while his own injuries hadn’t healed…

…waiting to devour the last remnants of the Luo family.

Even a completely wrecked ship could have some value squeezed out of it. Being so close to the situation, this grateful adopted son’s reputation in the eyes of outsiders would be excellent.

No one would know he was a hyena.

The hyena waited by the bedside, waiting for Luo Chengxiu to die, for there would surely be a few bones with scraps of meat left.

“So you’re this good at this…”

Luo Chengxiu gasped for breath, his expression grim. “Is this how you dealt with Luo Zhi?”

Jian Huaiyi cleaned up the overturned water cup.

He placed the cup on the table, took a few tissues to wipe the water stains, and sat by the bed.

“Don’t insult Luo Zhi, Father,” Jian Huaiyi advised him. “Take your medicine.”

He handed the cup and medicine over, only for Luo Chengxiu to knock them over in a rage. He picked up the cup again and wiped up the water with a tissue.

“How could I deal with Luo Zhi? The ones I’ve been dealing with have always been you all.”

Jian Huaiyi wiped the water dry and muttered to himself in a low voice, “Making you trust me, doubt Luo Zhi, making you push all the blame onto Luo Zhi, making you treat me like family and kick Luo Zhi out… Was it that hard?”

Luo Chengxiu’s pupils contracted at his words.

“Was it hard?” Jian Huaiyi thought about it. “It was too easy.”

So easy that looking back now, all his carefully laid plans seemed like the most ridiculous and absurd joke—was it really necessary to scheme to this extent, to make things so complicated?

Even if he had done nothing, the result would have been the same. The Luo family would have kicked Luo Zhi out on their own.

He was as stupid as a donkey turning a millstone.

Thinking himself clever, thinking he had everything calculated, only to take off the blindfold and find he was still trapped by the millstone.

Tied tightly to the side of the millstone, watching the mill burn down, watching the things he had stolen crumble into dust before his eyes.

“Struggle a little more, Father,” Jian Huaiyi said. “If you just let go like this, there won’t be much left after bankruptcy liquidation.”

Jian Huaiyi handed him a document. “I had someone evaluate it. As long as you can hold on to Huaisheng Entertainment—you definitely can’t in the long run, and the Luo family’s reputation is also negatively affecting the company now. But if you hold it tightly in the short term, the acquisition price will be driven very high…”

He spoke as if to himself, but Luo Chengxiu seemed not to be listening at all, staring at him with wide eyes.

Jian Huaiyi put down the document. “Father?”

“Huaisheng Entertainment?” Luo Chengxiu asked in a low voice. “Why… why Huaisheng Entertainment?”

He couldn’t figure it out at all, yet he vaguely recalled Ming Lu’s words.

Luo Chengxiu clutched his chest tightly. He was cold all over, as if he had been pushed back into the dark, cold sea. He opened his mouth several times before finally managing to speak, “Why Huaisheng Entertainment?”

…Why had Jian Huaiyi gone to such great lengths, even using Luo Cheng as a pawn, to get Huaisheng Entertainment?

What was so special about this company?

Wasn’t it just an ordinary film and television company? In a field like entertainment, even if you do well, how far can you really go…

“Father,” he heard Jian Huaiyi’s voice. “Have you never tried, not even for a moment, to understand Luo Zhi?”

Luo Chengxiu was practically nailed to the hospital bed by his words.

The monitoring equipment started to alarm. Luo Chengxiu frantically pushed away the doctors and nurses who surrounded him, gasping for breath, his eyes still fixed on Jian Huaiyi’s face.

That face distorted and blurred before him. In his darkening vision, the most obvious answer that he had always ignored floated to the surface.

Apart from blood ties, Luo Zhi had no connection to their family.

No connection at all. They didn’t teach Luo Zhi his ways of dealing with the world, nor did they participate in his upbringing. He would only occasionally receive some news that just annoyed him, saying that Ren Shuangmei had taken Luo Zhi to some banquet, or attended some forum, and someone would jokingly ask if Ren Shuangmei planned to leave all her connections to that child…

…Connections in the business world are driven by profit; they aren’t kind enough to offer help in times of need.

So when Luo Zhi first took over Huaisheng Entertainment, those connections didn’t become apparent, and naturally, he had never discovered them.

But once Luo Zhi revitalized Huaisheng Entertainment and brought it back to life, the resources that had been watching from the sidelines would naturally gather around.

There isn’t much to play with in the entertainment field. For a film and television company, it’s nothing more than a few endorsements, a little investment. But if the Luo family could use this opportunity to connect and operate—

Luo Chengxiu suddenly let out a cold, harsh laugh at the thought. He gasped for air, desperately tearing away the black fog that swirled before his eyes. “Jian Huaiyi.”

Luo Chengxiu asked him, “Do you think Luo Zhi would leave these things to the Luo family?”

Jian Huaiyi held the document, his brow slowly furrowing.

“You know nothing about Ren Shuangmei. The child she raised would never dirty the things she left behind.”

Luo Chengxiu’s voice was hoarse. He coughed and laughed with extreme sarcasm. “Luo Zhi would never give us a chance to touch these things—have you seen how Ren Shuangmei’s inheritance was distributed?”

Jian Huaiyi’s expression changed slightly. He took a step back, no longer paying attention to the chaotic rescue in the hospital room, and hurried towards the door.

“You think getting Huaisheng Entertainment means you’ll get all this?” Luo Chengxiu laughed manically. “Are you really sure that company is still in your hands?”

…

Jian Huaiyi was removed from Huaisheng Entertainment.

The people Ming Lu sent also failed to smoothly acquire Huaisheng Entertainment in that stock transaction.

The shares of Huaisheng Entertainment were bitten off and devoured, piece by piece, by its own department managers. Not enough funds? As soon as the distribution of Luo Zhi’s inheritance was announced, people in the industry went crazy trying to poach them. The offers snowballed, and the resulting publicity effect was all converted into a quantifiable price.

Luo Zhi just wanted to give them the confidence and capital to switch jobs freely, but no one left. Not a single person was willing to just walk away.

The team he had built sat together and sold themselves with valuation adjustment mechanism contracts.

With the money they got, they bit by bit bought up the shares being sold off.

They bought shares from retail investors and from shareholders looking to cash out. The so-called directors had come for the Luo family, and now that the Luo family had collapsed, they were eager to get rid of the hot potato.

Huaisheng Entertainment’s own share percentage struggled upward, point by point, until it finally surpassed the Luo family’s own holdings.

Ming Lu didn’t have his people continue bidding.

He stood for a long time, watching the young people sitting in the trading room, then took Luo Zhi’s final script and gave it to them.

Also given to them was a surveillance video. When the call was blocked, Luo Zhi was being rescued and couldn’t have possibly operated his phone himself.

This matter might not be that important anymore, and perhaps no one wanted to know.

“We should have… been more careful.”

Fang Hang sat on the sofa, his voice low. “It was very difficult when the company was just starting.”

“I know,” Ming Lu’s tone was gentle. “Don’t be too sad, maybe—”

“It was very difficult when the company was just starting. We didn’t have such good resources, and everyone was watching from the sidelines,” Fang Hang shook his head. “Those people were viciously slandering him… it was from that time.”

It was from that time.

Jian Huaiyi didn’t have that much power. The singers on the same chart, the competitors whose opportunities were snatched, the rivals targeting the Luo family with dirty tricks, the peers who didn’t want to see Huaisheng Entertainment succeed… there were too many people slandering Luo Zhi back then.

Too many people were watching, waiting to see what this young man raised by Ren Shuangmei would do.

Luo Zhi could have fought back. The company’s resources were his to begin with. He could have operated a PR campaign to clear his name at any cost, he could have fought until everything was a mess—but even then, Luo Zhi’s reputation wouldn’t have improved. Public opinion by nature loves sensational content and doesn’t care about the truth.

The result of fighting would only be an inconclusive mess. Luo Zhi would have to lie low for a few years, then find a way to make a comeback. Public memory is always short; maybe they would forget what happened, or maybe it would become a chaotic argument all over again…

But Huaisheng Entertainment couldn’t have dragged on until then.

It was just a subsidiary the Luo family was prepared to discard. It looked glamorous on the outside, and this group of them had come in full of hope, only to find the inside had long since rotted into an empty shell.

They languished in that empty shell for several years, and the sunk costs of switching jobs were too high. Their work and family lives were a mess, and they were listless, lifelessly crammed in the office waiting for an outcome.

“Fang Hang?” Luo Zhi squeezed over, looking at his phone. “Was your son just born?”

Fang Hang came back to his senses. Thinking Luo Zhi was about to scold him for being distracted, he scrambled to put his phone away. “Yes, I’m sorry…”

Young President Luo didn’t let him put the phone away. He leaned over to look at the video, his expression still holding a youthful curiosity. “Why is he so small?”

Fang Hang’s son was born a month premature and was still in an incubator. He was so worried about it he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t know how to answer and just lowered his head with a bitter smile, mumbling a response.

Luo Zhi pressed down on his hand and watched the video seriously from beginning to end, then suddenly took a deep breath and laughed.

“Forget it,” Luo Zhi said. “I’ll give it a try.”

Luo Zhi said to him, “Your son will have to call me Little Uncle.”

…

They never truly realized what that “forget it” really meant.

Luo Zhi returned to the company and became Young President Luo.

That fleetingly brilliant singer who was being slandered all over the internet became the first fire lit by the newly appointed Young President Luo, igniting a blaze of traffic without question.

With traffic came funds, and with funds came the opportunity to choose. The negative press of one artist didn’t affect the company. From some unknown day, Huaisheng Entertainment started to have a name on the industry’s rating charts.

…

Things started to go smoothly after that.

Luo Zhi led them, burning the midnight oil to revitalize the company, building a nest to attract the phoenix. Resources followed, and the situation got better and better.

They were so excited by one piece of good news after another that they were shouting in the hallway, dragging Luo Zhi to a celebration party. Luo Zhi hastily finished recording the inheritance distribution video, smiled, and opened the door, only to be unceremoniously dragged out for drinks.

In a corner of the KTV, everyone was pretty much drunk. The private room was a mess, and the multicolored lights were too dazzling to open one’s eyes.

Young President Luo was drunk too, hugging a guitar and asking Fang Hang in a small voice, “How’s your son?”

“His health is still not great, but thankfully, things at our company were going smoothly during that time, so we didn’t skimp on his nutrition and treatment.”

Fang Hang chugged half a bottle of beer. He had just prayed for a protective amulet and took it out to show Luo Zhi. “I hope he can grow up safe and sound.”

Young President Luo took the amulet and looked it over carefully, turning it back and forth.

When Luo Zhi was drunk, his voice became quiet, and he liked to laugh a lot. There seemed to be a layer of mist in his eyes, making him so well-behaved that they finally remembered Young President Luo was only just over twenty.

“Safe and sound.” Luo Zhi had drunk a lot and wasn’t very clear-headed. He hugged the guitar and thought for a long time. “If I… could have grown up safe and sound.”

Fang Hang was too drunk to sit straight, but he knew enough to correct him. “It’s my son, Young President Luo.”

Fang Hang pointed at the amulet to correct him. “I prayed for my son. If my son can grow up.”

“If I,” Young President Luo handed the amulet back to him, “could have grown up safe and sound.”

Young President Luo said, “Your son will have to call me Little Uncle.”