Luo Chi’s sleep that night was different from usual.

In a dream, unlike when he was awake, he didn’t have as much energy to control the thoughts in his mind. It was like a dark, shallow beach before dawn, fraught with hidden dangers, with no way to tell if the water below held turbulent currents or hidden reefs.

He had long grown accustomed to navigating these perilous dreams, walking until the long night passed. When morning came, everything would be fine.

But this time, Luo Chi was holding something in his hand.

He didn’t know what it was, only that it felt soft to the touch, with a constant, steady force transmitting from it.

He followed it slowly. The path ahead became interesting. The shadows of lights embraced him on the water’s surface, and schools of fish gently bumped against his legs underwater.

Luo Chi suddenly felt a strong urge to chase after it and get a clearer look. He tried to run, and the current pushed him forward. It was no problem; his direction was clear, and his progress was smooth. He quickened his pace, aimed for the shadow ahead, and leaped to pounce on it…

Luo Chi woke up from his dream.

He opened his eyes and stared blankly for two seconds, his eyes gradually widening.

All along, Luo Chi had been convinced that he was a very still sleeper—after all, his physical condition was what it was. Even if he got tangled in his blanket, he could only be passively pushed around on the bed.

Treating it as a dream, Luo Chi quickly closed his eyes to go back to sleep, only to open them again, bit by bit, after a couple of seconds.

Luo Chi was warm and motionless. He held his breath and, even more cautiously, lifted his gaze bit by bit, aiming it at Mr. Shadow, whom he was holding like a guitar.

Ming Weiting looked like he had been awake for a long time.

He was reading some paper documents when Luo Chi, in his sleep, suddenly pounced on him, wrapping his arms and shoulders around him tightly. Surprise showed on his face, but it was soon replaced by a growing smile in his eyes.

Ming Weiting put down the documents, turned over, and slowly began to speak, “A three-year-old—”

Luo Chi wanted to immediately slide back under the covers, but Mr. Shadow’s arm was already around his back, looking like it could very easily roll him into a blanket burrito.

Mr. Ming’s criteria for judgment were much more lenient this time. He negated his own statement, “It’s okay to hug when you’re older too.”

Ming Weiting stroked his hair. “It’s okay for a twenty-three-year-old to hug too.”

Luo Chi breathed a sigh of relief. He was still quite concerned about yesterday’s negotiation and, of course, nodded without hesitation. “Ninety-three is also okay.”

He had slept for a night, unaware of how many times his headache had flared up in the early morning. Tossing and turning, he had unconsciously pressed hard against the pillow, causing his hair to stick up. Paired with his current action, he didn’t look at all convincing about his age.

Ming Weiting was trying to smooth down the cowlicks in his short hair. His hand seemed to pause at that sentence. Then, his other hand came up as well, carefully lifting Luo Chi out from the bed and blanket.

Ming Weiting helped him lean securely against the headboard and touched his forehead. “Ninety-three years old.”

The force from behind was gentle, and the movement was light enough that the dizziness was only fleeting. Luo Chi came to his senses and blinked lightly.

Ming Weiting looked into his eyes. “Is that okay?”

Luo Chi looked back at him, his ears bright red. “It’s okay.”

Ming Weiting suddenly smiled. The strength in his hand abruptly increased, and in a rare move, he vigorously ruffled Luo Chi’s hair. Luo Chi wasn’t dizzy anymore. He was swayed back and forth by the ruffling and couldn’t stop smiling. “Okay, okay…”

On his twentieth birthday, Luo Chi had actually only done one thing.

He spent the day in his room copying a perpetual calendar, from dawn till dusk. His hand was sore by the time he finally finished copying every single day for the next sixty years. From then on, he would use a brush to paint over each day as it passed, which would give him motivation.

Luo Chi had thought worriedly, how can there be so many days.

He had no strength right after waking up. Luo Chi laughed so hard he couldn’t sit still. Enveloped by Mr. Shadow, he closed his eyes and rested for a moment, quietly pressing a hand to his chest.

…Auntie.

In his original plan, there was a distant, unattainable endpoint that he had to wade towards with great effort, never stopping no matter how tired he was.

If he was lucky enough not to be swallowed by the currents hidden beneath the treacherous shoals and reefs, he could slowly walk to that day. Then, he could finally collapse into the water in relief and never get up again.

At some point, that endpoint he had set for himself suddenly vanished.

He didn’t even want to look for the perpetual calendar he had worked so hard to copy. The paintbrush didn’t pause there; it still flew out in a single, fluid motion, not stopping even when it went past the edge of the paper.

There were too many things he wanted to do. With only so many days, it didn’t seem to be enough.

Luo Chi pressed his hand to his chest. He whispered to Auntie Ren in his thoughts, thinking in the quietest voice possible.

Auntie.

Let’s live to ninety-three together.

…

The weather finally cleared up that day.

The consecutive days of rain had washed the sky clean, turning it into a blue completely devoid of impurities, like a vast, borderless, and unused block of pigment.

In this weather, the seawater turned a pure green. When the waves rose, they were almost completely transparent, crashing down with white foam.

The lucky fan finally seized the rare opportunity. After the hottest part of the noon passed, he had people set up a sun umbrella in a shady corner sheltered by reefs.

This was a private beach at the Sea-view Villa. Without a specific invitation from the owner, no one else would venture near—but that didn’t mean there were no other creatures. For example, there were scallops and conches left behind by the high tide, and if you lifted a rock, you could see a feisty, lost crab no bigger than a finger.

Luo Chi was finally able to come out of his room for some fresh air. He was ambitious and wanted to help, but upon coming out, he found he couldn’t get a hand in at all.

The beach here was quite clean, the sand fine and smooth, with barely a pebble to be found. After the days of rain stopped, it was mercilessly baked by the sun for the better part of a day, becoming even warmer and softer.

Luo Chi couldn’t even stand steadily on the soft sand. He had to obediently accept the popsicle Uncle Lu handed him and was carried by Mr. Shadow under the reef to lift rocks and fight with crabs.

When Ming Weiting walked over, Luo Chi had just won a battle against a small crab with a little wooden stick he got from Uncle Lu, cornering it into a channel that led back to the sea.

Noticing the familiar shadow falling beside him, Luo Chi immediately put down the stick and quickly looked up.

Because they were going to the beach, Mr. Shadow wasn’t wearing a dress shirt today. He had changed into loose casual clothes, looking softer and more relaxed than usual.

Though, if he thought about it carefully, Luo Chi never found him stern.

Luo Chi wasn’t afraid of stern people. As long as they weren’t the moody, fierce, and completely unreasonable type, the stricter a person was, the more principled they were. He liked being around such people.

The founder grandfather who was far abroad was stern. Auntie Ren was also stern when dealing with outsiders. The first time Luo Chi met Auntie Ren, he was five, right on this beach. The Ren family was hosting a beach party, and a few boys were chasing each other around, playing war. They got carried away and ended up rolling into a ball, causing quite a bit of trouble for the guests.

…Later, all those boys were taken away by Auntie Ren and made to stand in a corner. She gave them a super stern scolding, and they all became obedient on the spot.

Luo Chi was building a sandcastle with his sister nearby at the time and witnessed Auntie Ren’s imposing manner firsthand. He had been captivated ever since, thinking it was the coolest thing ever.

He occasionally chatted quietly with Uncle Lu and had gotten a small glimpse of Mr. Ming’s formidable style when dealing with outside matters. He was even rubbing his hands together, preparing to paint a picture.

He actually wanted to paint many pictures of Mr. Shadow. He wanted to paint Mr. Shadow at every time, in every outfit, in every state.

Ming Weiting squatted down and touched his forehead. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Luo Chi smiled and shook his head. “I feel super comfortable.”

The sea breeze hardly allowed any lingering stuffiness to exist. Any place untouched by the sun was cool.

Before the shadow of the reef slowly shifted, this part of the beach had also been scorched by the sun. The moisture had long since evaporated, so it wasn’t damp or humid.

Seeing his excellent complexion, Ming Weiting also felt relieved. He didn’t immediately move his hand, instead brushing Luo Chi’s bangs upward. “It’s getting a bit long.”

Luo Chi actually thought so too. He had kept his hair in the simplest short style for years and wasn’t used to the current length. The tips of his hair often tickled the back of his neck and his eyelashes, making them a little itchy.

But he was having surgery soon, and it would all have to be shaved off anyway. With only a few days left, there was no need to specifically style it.

Luo Chi pressed his forehead against Ming Weiting’s palm, placing all his hopes on future prospects. “I don’t want this hairstyle in the future.”

Ming Weiting was slightly surprised by his action, then chuckled softly. He sat down on the sand with him, allowing Luo Chi to rest his head comfortably against his hand.

“What hairstyle do you want?” the lucky fan asked very seriously. “I’ll take notes.”

Luo Chi was already comfortable, and leaning against his hand was even more so. Relaxed, he started talking nonsense. “Dye it golden brown, then get it braided into dreadlocks, all the way down to here.”

He gestured at his chest and continued to imagine, “Colorful little wooden beads as decorations, a red bandana, and then…”

Ming Weiting asked, “Go sail a ship in the Caribbean?”

Luo Chi was a bit surprised and suddenly opened his eyes to look up. “Mr. Shadow, do you watch movies too?”

“I just started watching them a few days ago.” Ming Weiting brushed his bangs aside, revealing his forehead. “You said in the show that your favorite movie is Pirates of the Caribbean.”

Mr. Ming was knowledgeable and, after a moment’s thought, corrected him, “There’s a degree of romanticization. Real pirates were a bit different.”

Luo Chi was surprised for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh out loud and nod. “I haven’t seen that movie.”

Ming Weiting paused. He stood up and walked under the reef, found a suitable spot, and let Luo Chi lean against him.

It wasn’t easy to get a firm footing on the sand. Luo Chi had originally been left to rest on a beach chair, but he had been flipping rocks looking for little crabs and had unknowingly moved quite far.

Luo Chi had been supporting himself with his left hand, and his back was already a bit stiff. When Mr. Shadow put an arm around his shoulders, the strength in his body completely relaxed, and he let out a soft, comfortable sigh.

“For that question, I was originally going to answer The Legend of 1900.”

Luo Chi thought carefully for a moment, recalling the memory. “But the next segment of the show involved dressing someone up as the captain from Pirates of the Caribbean, so I just followed the script.”

At the time, Luo Chi thought the costume was cool. Hearing that it was romanticized, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “Were real captains not like that?”

The lucky fan paused for a moment, then changed his tune with unusual composure. “They can be the same.”

Luo Chi’s eyes widened slightly. He had been multitasking, thinking about painting Mr. Shadow while they talked. Now, his imagination ran wild, and he started laughing at his own mental images, unable to stop. “No, no, no…”

Ming Weiting didn’t know what he was thinking, but seeing Luo Chi so happy, his expression softened, and he stroked his hair. “If you’re interested, we can go to the Caribbean Sea in the future.”

It wasn’t as dangerous as depicted in the movies. On the contrary, that sea was perfect for diving and surfing. On a good day, the water would be an exceptionally clear azure.

Many sunken ships slept on the seabed, and schools of fish would lead divers into deep-sea caves. Inside were magnificent natural stalactites. Only by truly entering those mysterious and unfathomable caves could one know how spectacular and breathtaking the sight was.

Ming Weiting slowly described it to him. Luo Chi, who had just been wondering if he should also find time to watch Pirates of the Caribbean, was instantly captivated by Mr. Shadow’s description, listening with growing fascination. “Is diving hard to learn?”

“It’s not easy, but it’s not hard either.” Ming Weiting thought for a moment and gave an objective description. “It depends on whether you can overcome your fear.”

Many people have an innate fear of the deep sea. The profound mystery, the feeling of an endless descent and fall—even imagining it can be suffocating.

Ming Weiting paused for a moment, then added, “When I was little, I was also very afraid of the deep sea.”

Luo Chi was gauging the extent of his own fear and how much time and practice he might need to overcome it. Hearing this, he turned back in surprise. “Really?”

Ming Weiting nodded. “The first time I went diving, I saw a shipwreck on the seafloor. That shipwreck looked a lot like the ship I lived on.”

Luo Chi turned around, propping himself up on the sand, listening to him with focused attention.

Being watched so seriously by him, a hint of a smile appeared in Ming Weiting’s eyes. “It’s alright.”

He paused to reminisce for a moment before continuing, “I was just too young back then. I had nightmares for a few nights, thinking I was sleeping in that shipwreck.”

This old memory was so distant that Ming Weiting himself couldn’t remember it clearly. He had specifically gone to ask Uncle Lu about it, preparing to use it to answer a question like “tell me something about Mr. Shadow’s past” the next time he played Truth or Dare with Luo Chi.

Now, telling it as a story to amuse Luo Chi, he would have to disturb Uncle Lu’s rest again tonight to ask for a new one.

Ming Weiting suddenly stopped and raised his hand, lightly tapping Luo Chi between the eyebrows. “Thank Uncle Lu.”

“Thank Uncle Lu,” Luo Chi repeated without thinking, then remembered to ask, “Why?”

Luo Chi’s mind immediately started making connections, reasonably linking the context and continuing the story. “You had a nightmare, so you went to sleep with Uncle Lu?”

Ming Weiting didn’t have such a habit. He shook his head. “I’ve been sleeping by myself since I was three.”

He then recited Luo Chi’s own original words, and Luo Chi’s body tensed.

Remembering his own confident declaration at the time, and then what happened when he woke up this morning, Luo Chi couldn’t explain himself. A flush of heat spread rapidly from behind his ears into his collar. “It’s true!”

“Mine is true too,” a smile appeared in Ming Weiting’s eyes. He offered one of his hands, letting Luo Chi try his best to bury it in the sand as revenge, and continued, “I changed to a different ship later.”

“After changing ships, I stopped having nightmares, but the fear of the deep sea remained,” Ming Weiting said. “Later, my father had someone take me to deal with that shipwreck.”

Luo Chi had already half-buried his hand in the sand. Hearing this, his chest stirred for some reason, and he lifted his gaze.

“The shipwreck,” Luo Chi thought for a while before asking again, “How was it dealt with?”

“Salvaged, dismantled, and the valuable parts were recycled. If there were precious treasures, they were repaired and properly stored.”

Ming Weiting said, “The remaining waste was sent to the smelting furnace to be completely destroyed.”

They seemed to be talking about a shipwreck, but for some reason, Luo Chi slowly began to think of other things.

Luo Chi looked at Mr. Shadow’s hand. It was half-buried in the fine sand, but its outline was still vaguely visible, though even that outline was starting to become unclear.

Ming Weiting thought he was tired, so he took over the task. Just as his other hand scooped some sand to bury it, Luo Chi stopped him. “During the dismantling.”

Luo Chi paused to organize his thoughts. “During the dismantling, what if there’s a structure you don’t want to damage?”

“A part of the ship’s structure?” Ming Weiting pondered for a moment. “There’s no way. Damage during the dismantling process is unavoidable.”

Luo Chi asked, “What if you really, really don’t want to damage it?”

Ming Weiting was taken aback and raised his eyes to look at Luo Chi.

He hadn’t actually considered this question—in fact, before telling this story to Luo Chi, he hadn’t thought carefully about why Uncle Lu had specifically chosen this story for him.

Luo Chi carefully brushed the sand off the back of his hand, then picked up the small wooden stick again and traced the outline of his palm.

The sand was warm and dry from the sun, and the fine grains quickly trickled away. The previously traced outline rapidly faded and blurred, disappearing without a trace in just a moment.

“Xiao Huo Miao,” Ming Weiting said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t a good story. I should have been more careful in choosing a topic.”

Ming Weiting took his right hand, which was holding the stick. “Let’s go play in the shallows for a while. The water is very shallow. I won’t let you slip.”

Luo Chi’s right hand had little strength. When it was held, it fell to the side, landing on the sand.

Ming Weiting frowned. He looked up, about to speak, but was suddenly taken aback.

Luo Chi was looking at him, his eyes still curved into a smile. He was exceptionally familiar with those eyes, so he could easily distinguish the emotions that rarely appeared in them. He absolutely did not want to make Luo Chi sad—before he could come to his senses, the light in those eyes suddenly changed.

“It might be a little more troublesome than the most troublesome situation I anticipated.”

Luo Chi placed his left hand on Ming Weiting’s.

Supporting himself like this, he looked up at Mr. Shadow from below. “How much will I forget?”

Ming Weiting looked into those eyes and didn’t speak immediately.

…

He was sure he hadn’t spoken, but Luo Chi just waited quietly for a few seconds before sighing in frustration and rubbing his temples. “How come it’s so much?”

Ming Weiting had no intention of actually telling him about this matter, so naturally, he didn’t know what to say at this moment.

For the first time, he couldn’t help but frown at his own taciturnity. He didn’t want Luo Chi to think about this anymore. He reached out to cup the back of his head and neck and spoke in a low voice, “Xiao Huo Miao—”

Luo Chi followed the force of his hand and lowered his head to rest against his shoulder.

Ming Weiting stopped talking and tried to slowly stroke his hair, staying completely still to let him lean on him.

He felt the fabric on his shoulder begin to soak with a cold dampness and realized that Luo Chi must be having another headache and breaking out in a cold sweat. Checking the time, he suddenly realized that their conversation had gone on much longer than expected.

“Xiao Huo Miao,” Ming Weiting said in a low voice. “You should take your painkiller. Let’s go find Uncle Lu first.”

Worried that this attack would be severe, he supported the person leaning on his shoulder and lifted his head, only to be startled.

Luo Chi’s forehead was covered in cold sweat, but his eyes were calmer and clearer than his own. He even curved them into a slight smile at him. “Thank Uncle Lu.”

“Thank Uncle Lu,” Ming Weiting repeated. “Why?”

This time, even the corners of Luo Chi’s mouth couldn’t help but press into a line. He coughed twice, first taking out the painkillers he had already gotten from Uncle Lu from his jacket pocket, pressing out a few pills, and swallowing them.

Ming Weiting helped him lean against the reef and quickly walked to the beach chair to get the water. “Xiao Huo Miao.”

Luo Chi had his eyes slightly closed, leaning against the reef to regulate his breath.

Ming Weiting held him, opened the water bottle, and touched it to his lips.

Luo Chi was gently patted on the shoulder and woke up. He first smiled at him, then took the initiative to let him cradle his head and neck, swallowing a few sips of water that were fed to him.

These headache attacks happened many times every day. Once, it happened right when Xun Zhen was giving Luo Chi a check-up. Dean Xun, whose specialty was psychology and who had never done clinical work, was even more flustered than the patient, Luo Chi. In the end, it was Luo Chi who had to guide him to help him swallow the painkillers.

“It’s alright,” Luo Chi recovered in his arms, opened his eyes, and smiled at him. “Mr. Shadow.”

Luo Chi said in a low voice, “You need to hurry up and coax me into writing an IOU.”

“No,” Ming Weiting shook his head. “When the time comes, you won’t remember anything. Seeing me with an IOU, you’ll inevitably see me as a black-hearted creditor.”

Luo Chi’s eyes widened as he looked at him.

Ming Weiting waited for a moment, then asked in a low voice, “What’s wrong?”

“Mr. Shadow,” Luo Chi said. “I remember everything right now.”

Luo Chi was in too much pain to have much strength, but he still tried his best to move his fingers and very solemnly pinched his hand. “You are a black-hearted creditor.”

No matter how heavy Ming Weiting’s heart was, being thrown into disarray by him like this, he couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Is it that serious?”

Luo Chi held a super grudge. “It’s that serious.”

Ming Weiting also saw a smile in Luo Chi’s eyes.

He rinsed his hands with water, wiped the cold sweat from between his pale eyebrows and lashes, and then slightly adjusted his position so that Luo Chi could rest his head and neck on his hands.

Ming Weiting bent his shoulders, touched his cold forehead with his own, and said softly, “What should be done about this?”

Luo Chi clutched his sleeve.

That hand clutched his sleeve, not to call him, but to use it as leverage to move up, bit by bit, and hug Ming Weiting back.

“I’ll figure out a way,” Luo Chi said.

This sentence didn’t seem to just be about how to resolve the accusation of being a black-hearted creditor—Luo Chi was quietly making him a promise, a promise about something else, a promise about the ship’s structure that would inevitably be destroyed during dismantling.

Luo Chi closed his eyes, his forehead resting against his. “I’ll figure out a way.”

…

Although the situation was completely unrelated, Ming Weiting suddenly realized why Mrs. Ren had repeatedly told Luo Chi not to take care of his brother that day.

Because no matter what happened, Luo Chi would always be the first to be firm, the first to be clear-headed, and the first to rationally think of a solution. That’s why weak people would rely on him without limit, and selfish people would slander him without restraint.

That family had directed the most shameless malice at him simply because they saw what Luo Chi was like and found it jarring.

Ming Weiting tightened his arms, letting him lean into his embrace, and turned sideways to block the wind.

This type of headache came without any warning, and other than taking painkillers, there was no other way to alleviate it. One could only wait for the attack to pass. In the end, only surgery to remove the lesion could provide a complete cure.

Luo Chi regulated his breathing in his arms. After an unknown amount of time, his body finally began to relax, and he raised his hand to wipe away his sweat.

He didn’t have enough strength, so Ming Weiting helped support his arm. “Have an idea?”

Luo Chi slowly blinked, looking at him, hesitating to speak.

This hesitation looked so obvious that it practically had “ask me now” written on his face. The lucky fan was somewhat speechless. He ruffled his hair and played along, asking, “What idea?”

“It’s a secret,” the corners of Luo Chi’s mouth lifted. “I’m preparing.”

He said “I’m preparing,” not “I will prepare,” which meant he had indeed had a premonition before.

Ming Weiting remembered Xun Zhen’s words and was worried that too much movement would trigger another headache. He just gently rubbed Luo Chi’s ear. “That amazing?”

Of course, Luo Chi agreed. He responded with a self-assured “mm-hmm” and continued, “There’s something I need Mr. Shadow’s cooperation with. I can’t do it alone.”

Ming Weiting immediately nodded. “Okay.”

This time it was Luo Chi’s turn to not be able to hold back a laugh. “You’re not going to ask what it is?”

“I’m not going to ask what it is.” Ming Weiting waited for two seconds, then asked, “What is it?”

Luo Chi laughed so hard he almost got a headache again. He finally managed to suppress his laughter with deep breaths, took Mr. Shadow’s hand, and pressed his forehead against the soft, warm fabric of his casual clothes.

“Right after the surgery, I definitely won’t remember what happened,” Luo Chi reasoned. “If we don’t consider this period of time, my biggest dream would probably be to wander the world with a guitar and a drawing board on my back.”

If he really remembered nothing at all then, Mr. Shadow would undoubtedly be unable to stop him.

“I know,” Ming Weiting said. “I can go be a groupie.”

“What if I stay on land the whole time?”

Luo Chi analyzed for him, “I’d probably be walking. Walking and stopping, taking a big detour to get to the seaside might take more than ten years.”

Ming Weiting thought for a long time and, without being taught, came up with an idea. “I’ll be a black-hearted creditor and come after you with an IOU to collect the debt.”

Luo Chi really couldn’t help but laugh out loud. He coughed twice and continued, “That’s one way, but it doesn’t solve the root problem.”

“I’ll want to wander around because I’ll have forgotten that I have a home now.”

Luo Chi said, “We need to find a piece of evidence, something that will allow me to immediately deduce where my home is, even just based on logical reasoning.”

Ming Weiting had actually thought of videos and witnesses, but these were undoubtedly too cold. He didn’t think it was a good idea for a Luo Chi with no memories to watch those things.

But Luo Chi always had good ideas. That ball of fire seemed to be able to do anything.

Ming Weiting held his hand and asked in a low voice, “What evidence?”

“For the surgery, do I need to sign it myself?” Luo Chi’s voice was also low, mumbling as he leaned against him. “I’ve already returned that identity to their family, so it’s not appropriate to use that name anymore. I actually wanted to take Auntie Ren’s surname, but someone I dislike also has that surname…”

Ming Weiting gradually guessed his meaning.

He looked into Luo Chi’s eyes, as if burned by something within them, and slowly took Luo Chi’s hand.

Luo Chi, having said his piece, slowly let out a breath.

“Mr. Ming,” Luo Chi smiled at him. “Lend me a surname, okay?”