Luo Chi used all his strength to push himself up from the armrest.

He hadn’t performed this action in a long time. As he rose, he was suddenly engulfed by a tide-like dizziness. Before he could even react, his consciousness faded in the white light that flooded his vision.

…

But this process lasted only an instant.

When he regained consciousness, Luo Chi found that he hadn’t fallen onto the hotel’s old carpet, nor was he in a dark corner of the reef or on the beach before dawn.

He was still standing on the ground, and Ming Weiting was still holding his hand tightly.

Mr. Shadow’s other hand was behind him, supporting his currently strengthless shoulders, back, and neck.

It was an unquestionable, exceptionally clear force that came to supplement his own the moment his body gave out and went limp.

So he didn’t fall. He was kept here.

Luo Chi slowly blinked his eyes. His vision hadn’t even fully recovered, but the corners of his mouth were already lifting uncontrollably. He smiled at the figure before him through the vast whiteness.

Mr. Shadow didn’t have a free hand, so he could only touch his forehead with his own. “This happy?”

Of course, Luo Chi nodded. “This happy.”

Luo Chi still needed some time to recover his strength. He was so dizzy it felt like he was standing in a spinning vortex. Cold sweat beaded out layer by layer. If not for the hand supporting him from behind, he would probably have collapsed strengthlessly to the ground.

Since his body started having problems, this situation had occurred too many times. So many that Luo Chi didn’t even need to specifically simulate or rehearse it to guess his state after standing up.

…

But what happened next this time was different from any other time before.

He suddenly felt as if he could go anywhere.

Luo Chi’s forehead was beaded with sweat, but his eyes were shining as he looked towards that corner of the terrace.

With his current condition, he certainly couldn’t walk that far on his own.

Luo Chi was practically half-supported, half-carried over by Ming Weiting. The physical exertion was no less than when he had been dragged by Auntie Ren to climb a snow mountain.

He kept moving his legs with support. The last step felt like stepping on cotton. His legs gave way, and he started to fall, only to be caught in time by Ming Weiting, who helped him lean against the edge of the terrace.

But he had truly, truly made it here.

He really touched the leaves that were soaked with rain and catching the sunlight.

Luo Chi panted lightly, carefully touching the edge of the leaves with his hand, his fingertips tracing the veins. The cool rainwater wet his hand.

After being washed by several continuous rains, there was not a speck of dust on the leaves. They were a vibrant, glossy green, full of life.

These flowers and plants were very well cared for. Their roots were stable, their branches thick and strong. They swayed flamboyantly in the wind, vying to reach out for that patch of falling light.

A sun shower always seemed magical. Because an unexpected gap appeared in the dense, dark clouds, the cold rain and sunlight would fall together, and that small patch of rain would also turn into bright, golden droplets.

Luo Chi reached out his hand and touched that patch of light.

It was as warm as he had imagined.

…

He remembered the sunrise he had seen in his dream.

“Mr. Shadow,” Luo Chi touched the light for a long time before finally speaking softly. “There’s… something.”

Ming Weiting asked, “The matters outside?”

Luo Chi thought for a few seconds and slowly nodded.

“No problem,” Ming Weiting said without hesitation. “Uncle Lu will handle it.”

This spot was no longer under the cover of the terrace. He stood slightly further out, shielding Luo Chi with his body from the rain blown in by the wind. He bent down to check on Luo Chi’s condition.

He was actually waiting. After regaining his past memories, Luo Chi would sooner or later bring up the matters outside.

The child raised by Madam Ren would not lack the courage to completely gouge out those blood-stained old sores, to burn away the cold embers that were only left of habit.

…But Huaisheng Entertainment’s Young Master Luo was so soft-hearted.

Luo Chi had always been taking care of many people. Dreams that couldn’t be realized, he let them be realized in others. Light he couldn’t touch, he let it shine on others. Then he would look at the people he protected, as if looking at a dream he had long since given up on with his own hands.

“…Li Weiming, that incident.”

When Luo Chi spoke of these things, his expression became somewhat slow again. “The company’s artist.”

He shook his head, as if correcting this state himself, and reorganized his words. “I was the one who requested that the management team uniformly manage all public statements.”

When the Li Weiming incident broke out, the management team immediately confiscated all the artists’ Weibo accounts.

In fact, it was fortunate that they did.

…Not just because in that situation, Li Weiming’s fans, when frenzied, could really tear apart anyone who spoke up for him.

In that situation, Luo Chi had already been branded a “predator.” If anyone else had recklessly come out to stand by him, it would only have solidified that reputation.

Then everyone would be even more convinced that the general manager of Huaisheng Entertainment was abusing his power, forcing the company’s artists to speak for him, making it even more impossible to explain clearly.

Luo Chi himself had actually made arrangements. He was prepared for this and had made corresponding plans.

Luo Chi touched the leaf and said slowly, “I’m not…”

“You don’t just let others bully you,” Ming Weiting met his eyes and finished his sentence seriously. “You did an excellent job.”

Luo Chi’s mind worked slowly when recalling these things. It took him a while to catch up with Ming Weiting’s words. He nodded.

He mulled over the last sentence a few more times, then suddenly looked up, his eyes brightening. “How excellent?”

Ming Weiting was caught off guard by the suddenly soaring Young Master Luo and was rendered speechless for a moment. He reached out to pat Luo Chi’s hair.

“Very excellent. You left almost no room for anyone to interfere.”

Ming Weiting slowed his speech. “The arrangements you made ensured that those who deserved punishment were punished, and you also protected the people you wanted to protect.”

“Huaisheng Entertainment is already independent and gradually getting back on track. My people did not succeed in acquiring it.”

Ming Weiting said slowly, “They only want you as their general manager.”

Luo Chi listened to his words with extra concentration. When he heard the last sentence, he was slightly surprised, his eyes widening in silence.

His physical condition was really not enough to support him handling these matters. The gears turned a little too fast and immediately reawakened the grinding, flesh-ripping pain. He hastily closed his eyes and swallowed a muffled groan.

“Huo Miao,” Ming Weiting wrapped an arm around his suddenly staggering form. “Relax.”

Luo Chi nodded with his eyes closed. He knew very well how to calm this pain. He focused on regulating his breath and hurried to finish what he had to say. “It was too rushed… I missed something.”

Luo Chi confirmed in a low voice with Mr. Shadow, “The Li Weiming incident, has it been clarified?”

“It’s been clarified,” Ming Weiting said. “The evidence you saved was very complete.”

Luo Chi was quiet for a long moment, then slowly nodded.

He hadn’t thought about these things for a long time.

Thinking and recalling these things was still very strenuous for him. The memories no longer held feelings, just simple, narrative facts. Even when searching through them, it was difficult to accurately locate the desired content in a short time.

The reason he had to think about this now was because it had been too rushed at the time. There was one more thing he hadn’t arranged properly.

“With the reversal of public opinion, those who were silent at the beginning will be questioned,” Luo Chi said. “It’s not their fault.”

The management team had long had strict and clear regulations. Moreover, stepping out for a direct confrontation at that time would only have added fuel to the fire and made the situation worse.

No matter the reason, one shouldn’t create new victims because of one victim.

Luo Chi paused for a moment and was about to push himself to continue when Ming Weiting already understood his meaning. “Uncle Lu will pass on the message and have them explain through the official Weibo.”

The corners of Luo Chi’s lips lifted into a small smile.

He could control it very well now. The headache was intense for just a moment before it slowly subsided.

The recovered memories were slowly sorted out again, and with this matter also properly handled, it seemed there was nothing much left to worry about.

…There shouldn’t be anything else.

What needed to be dealt with had been dealt with, the scores had been settled. He could finally stop looking back at these things.

He closed his eyes, comfortably breathing in the cool, rainy air. After an unknown amount of time, he suddenly felt a light spray of rain drift over.

Luo Chi keenly sensed something was amiss. He counted to two in his head, then suddenly opened his eyes, and sure enough, caught the lucky fan who was holding a leaf and sending little rain stars towards his face.

The lucky fan, having done this, was not only not guilty, but was brazenly looking down at him with concentration.

Luo Chi’s competitive spirit was roused. He suddenly let go of the leaf in his hand. The rainwater flew up and landed on top of Mr. Shadow’s head.

Ming Weiting didn’t block the rain, letting it fall on his head and face. Instead, he took a wet leaf tip and touched Luo Chi’s face.

It was a slender-leafed orchid. When it brushed past, it carried not only the fresh scent of rain but also a faint floral fragrance, bringing a light, soft tickle.

Luo Chi couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He hadn’t expected Mr. Shadow to play such a childish game. He felt very happy, and seeing the undisguised smile in Ming Weiting’s eyes made him even happier.

…

This happiness, stronger and more unignorable than usual, seemed to have suddenly opened up a certain place, slowly seeping into the depths of his chest.

Luo Chi did his best to regulate his breath and suddenly said with a serious expression, “Where am I?”

Ming Weiting, who was supporting him, seemed to grow a little worried at this question. He steadied Luo Chi’s cold neck and looked into his eyes.

Luo Chi’s gaze was very clear. Sweat trickled down from between his brows, only to be quickly and nimbly blinked away by his eyelashes.

Ming Weiting was relieved. He thought for a moment. “At home.”

“On the terrace of the bedroom at home,” the lucky audience member tried to answer, and then specifically added, “The terrace is very beautiful.”

Luo Chi clearly liked this answer. The curve of his pursed lips deepened, but he continued to ask, “Where am I?”

When he asked this question, he was different from usual. There was a particularly childish air about him, and Ming Weiting was reminded of that video again.

Whose artist was so concerned with his image that he had to maintain his handsomeness whenever he saw a camera, even finding the best angle, and not even wearing his trench coat properly just to strike a pose.

Ming Weiting touched his hair with his forehead. He sensed that Luo Chi was standing more and more steadily, and the hand supporting his body slowly began to release its force.

“In front of your lucky fan.” Ming Weiting’s hand cupped the back of his neck, resting on his soft, slightly damp short hair. He gently rubbed it twice. “Shaking hands with your lucky fan.”

“Whose fan is this,” Ming Weiting chuckled in a low voice. “So lucky, to have fallen for such a good person.”

Luo Chi quickly grew hot at this answer. His originally pale forehead and ears began to turn red, which made his complexion look much better, even as if he had completely recovered his health in an instant.

Luo Chi was already able to stand steadily just by holding onto one hand. His throat moved slightly, and he let out an indistinct puff of air.

Ming Weiting held him steadily and bent down. “What?”

“…My.”

Luo Chi, flushed, enunciated clearly, “Mine.”

“My fan,” Luo Chi slowly learned to say. “My fan.”

…

This sentence was actually very ordinary.

Luo Chi was the general manager of Huaisheng Entertainment. He had many artists under him, all handpicked, each with a clear, shining point.

Huaisheng Entertainment signed them, had them practice their basic skills, helped them plan their development, and gave them the most suitable endorsements and resources. With talent and a smooth path, it was natural that they would be liked by many people, natural that they would have many fans.

Luo Chi would be very careful not to get close to them in any public setting, not to let people remember that Huaisheng Entertainment had such a general manager—back when he hadn’t paid attention to this, a photo of them together was singled out. The comments below were all complaints about how they had signed with such a trash company, and met such a trash boss.

That young singer was only sixteen or seventeen. He really couldn’t hold his temper. He got into a huge argument with the commenters while his manager wasn’t looking, and just like that, he got into trouble.

Later, the young singer was relentlessly attacked online for a full two months. He was also scolded by his manager and would squat alone in the company’s practice room at night, crying.

Luo Chi happened to be working overtime at the company that day. The boy’s crying followed him all the way to outside the practice room. He took the boy out of the company for hotpot.

Young Master Luo explained to him that public opinion was like this. Extreme voices would attract more attention, would stir up emotions, and would be so overwhelming that it seemed like there was only one voice.

…But sooner or later, you would find that it wasn’t entirely like that.

Sooner or later, the tide of malicious revelry would recede, and things would get better.

The young singer, whose phone had been temporarily confiscated, sat in front of the spicy red oil hotpot, eating large mouthfuls of meat while crying. His tears flooded the sesame sauce bowl.

“When is ‘sooner or later’?” The young singer, so full he couldn’t walk, was still crying while burping. He squatted by the roadside, tugging at him and asking, “Bro, how much later? I can’t hold on anymore.”

Luo Chi, unable to get away from his grip, also squatted down and patted his head.

The PR team had actually already started to intervene. It wouldn’t be long before they could resolve the matter. As long as the follow-up resources were stable, the situation would turn around in half a year at most.

If Luo Chi no longer appeared in public, no longer reminded people of Huaisheng Entertainment’s general manager, there would naturally be no more pretext for attacks.

“It won’t be too late,” Luo Chi said. “Hold on.”

Luo Chi reminded him with a smile, “Learn your lesson next time. Don’t get involved with me.”

…

Ming Weiting saw Luo Chi suddenly freeze. He worried that Luo Chi was dizzy again. He held Luo Chi’s arm and bent down to check, but suddenly felt a force.

Luo Chi’s arm was pulling downwards, with a force that wanted to keep his hand, a force that very much wanted to bring his hand over.

Ming Weiting followed him, bending his shoulders. “Huo Miao?”

Ming Weiting steadied his arm, touched his forehead with his other hand, and was about to ask when he was suddenly embraced by Luo Chi.

Ming Weiting stopped his movements.

Luo Chi had his eyes closed. He needed to lean against the railing to stand steadily, so when he lowered his head further, he could only reach Ming Weiting’s shoulder, his expression almost completely hidden.

Ming Weiting held his breath, not wanting to disturb him.

Luo Chi slowly raised his left hand, tentatively, bit by bit, wrapping it back around Ming Weiting’s back in a loose circle.

When he was groggy, Luo Chi would also smile and proactively reach out to Ming Weiting.

At that time, he didn’t remember who he was, had almost no way to move on his own, and yet he instinctively trusted and was close to Mr. Shadow. He was also very used to being carried around by Ming Weiting.

After fully waking up, Luo Chi became easily embarrassed. Sometimes, when Ming Weiting took care of him according to old habits, it would make him blush uncontrollably.

Before he could pull his hand back, Ming Weiting raised his arm and pulled Luo Chi into his embrace, pressing his forehead against his. “What’s wrong?”

Luo Chi took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, silently mouthing a word with the airflow.

He felt he had barely mouthed it, but Mr. Shadow, for some reason, understood. He held his arm. “Thank you for what?”

Luo Chi’s ears burned, and he shook his head vaguely.

Ming Weiting would never make him too uncomfortable. Seeing this, he usually wouldn’t press further, but this time he still held him. “Huo Miao.”

Luo Chi looked up. Ming Weiting gently patted his hair. He didn’t pull his hand back, still leaving it on top of his hair.

“Why are you saying thank you?” Ming Weiting looked into his eyes seriously. “Thank you for what?”

Luo Chi slowly grew hotter in his hands.

When he first debuted, Luo Chi was completely clueless about the industry.

He just wanted to have fun with the people who listened to his songs, who waved and cheered with him. He thought it was just a big bonfire party. He sat on the edge of the stage, looking for Auntie Ren in the spotlight, wanting to tell her that he could now play with more people, and have even more fun.

Later, the situation took a sharp and sudden turn. More and more things he was completely unprepared for were thrown at him.

He began to learn about those rules, to learn how to be Young Master Luo, to learn how to manage a company. He finally, gradually, understood these things, but he no longer had the chance to start over.

Luo Chi lowered his head. He took several deep breaths but couldn’t bring himself to speak. The heat seeped into his collar, bit by bit.

…How could he really have the chance to say such a thing?

How could he be so lucky, to actually have waited for the chance to say such a thing.

Had he dreamed of this before? Maybe he had, maybe he hadn’t. Such a dream was too unrealistic, after all, and he usually rarely had a habit of daydreaming…

Luo Chi finally took a deep breath, closed his eyes, steeled himself, and said it all in one loud, clear breath, “Thank you, Mr. Shadow, for being my fan.”

Ming Weiting was stunned by his words.

He was held tightly by the twenty-three-year-old Luo Chi. Luo Chi’s entire body was burning hot. His damp, short hair was buried in his neck. His arms behind him were trembling slightly from exertion, yet they were still trying to tighten.

Luo Chi rarely spoke so loudly. He seemed to have put all his strength into this sentence.

The scheming Young Master Luo from just now was gone. In the master tapes of those competition shows, before the video screen went dark, the Luo Chi sitting on the edge of the stage suddenly jumped up with his guitar, waving at him desperately, forcefully.

“Thank you, Mr. Shadow, for being my fan.”

Luo Chi said loudly, “Thank you, Mr. Shadow, for liking me.”

Ming Weiting held his shoulders and bent down to meet Luo Chi’s eyes.

No one could stop the nineteen-year-old Luo Chi anymore. Luo Chi jumped off the stage with his guitar, ran all the way through the seemingly endless corridor, and rushed in front of him.

Luo Chi smiled at him with bright eyes. “Today is the happiest day of my life.”