The tide of the dream surged forward.

It existed purely in the dream, a completely unfamiliar touch with no trace in his memory.

Ming Chi felt a slight breeze brush against his fingers. At first, he thought it was the wind, but it was too gentle to be wind. Such a night breeze wouldn’t even disturb the moonlight.

Then he felt warmth.

It wasn’t the wind.

The wind was off playing with the water.

It was Mr. Shadow’s breath.

The breath exhaled by Ming Weiting was holding his hand.

Ming Weiting was holding his hand, lightly touching his knuckles, bit by bit. With his lowered gaze, with the warm airflow from his breath, and with his lips.

A completely deliberate force. Ming Chi’s fingers instinctively curled up, and then the bent knuckles touched another soft surface. Then, both of them suddenly froze.

…

For a brief few seconds, hard knuckles rested against soft lips, coolness against warmth. Perhaps no one was breathing.

No one was breathing, but the wind was playing with the water at their feet. The moonlit water rippled, disrupting the reflections of the people in the water.

A wave crashed against the reef with a “whoosh,” instantly pulling them back to reality.

Ming Weiting slowly raised his gaze.

Ming Chi’s eyes were still wide open. He was probably thoroughly flustered, sitting motionless, staring at him blankly.

Ming Weiting raised his hand and lightly touched Ming Chi’s eyelashes.

Ming Chi blinked instinctively, barely coming back to his senses, and frantically looked for a crack in the rocks to hide in. “Ah, ah, ah, ah.”

Ming Weiting watched him quietly. Hearing Ming Chi’s string of toneless, robotic “ah’s,” a smile emerged from the bottom of his eyes. He reached out to support him to prevent him from slipping. “What is it?”

“It’s a sentence pattern to express one’s mood, popular online,” Ming Chi failed to find a rock crevice. Seeing Mr. Shadow’s outstretched hand, he familiarly lifted the other’s arm and hid himself inside. “Exclamation point, exclamation point.”

In truth, in the “Mr. Shadow Exclusive Zone” of his mind, there were far more “ah’s” than this, and they didn’t need special exclamation points. Each one was bolded and running around everywhere.

It was mainly that the atmosphere was too quiet now, the moonlight distant, the wind light, the water gentle. Even the waves seemed soft.

And Uncle Lu was still here.

Uncle Lu wasn’t looking over. He was very interestedly studying the pattern on a rock, wondering if the rock would still have a pattern after being taken out of the water.

His piece of music should be rearranged to include a small climax.

Were the rocks watching?

The seawater under the moon was surprisingly bright.

…

Ming Chi tried to occupy his mind with other thoughts to prevent the “ah’s” from running around, but it seemed other thoughts were popping up faster and more densely. A part of his brain had even stopped consulting him and had proactively immersed itself in arranging music.

Ming Chi was burning up. The breath in his chest was ramming around, urging him to whisper the exclamation point out loud. “Ah!”

Ming Weiting gently drew a question mark in his palm.

Ming Chi squeezed that finger, answering that he was fine. He then reviewed the cruise ship etiquette tutorial he had borrowed from Uncle Lu in his mind, sighing at his own lack of composure.

Just a kiss on the hand, and he turned into this.

How was he supposed to be a captain in the future?

He hid himself away, wanting to sort out his thoughts, and then realized his body seemed too practiced, having already found a familiar and comfortable position without needing his brain.

He was hiding between Mr. Shadow’s arm and chest.

His forehead was resting against Mr. Shadow’s shoulder. He was curled up with his knees hugged, his chin resting on his arm, which allowed him to be completely hidden. One of his hands was clutching Mr. Shadow’s casual jacket.

…Ming Chi let out a long,惆悵 sigh. He fanned himself, took a deep breath in and out, and exhaled all the rushing air in his chest.

He was starting to worry about his lack of composure.

…

The leader of the team exploring the mysterious villa was carried back to the villa by Mr. Shadow that night.

It wasn’t because of that completely unexpected little incident—of course, that incident also had a considerable impact in other aspects. But the main reason was that the owner of the villa himself had walked around in several circles and still couldn’t find his way back.

When they had walked over in the evening, the sky had just darkened, and he could still identify the route based on the surrounding landmarks.

By night, all these landmarks had cunningly hidden themselves in the darkness. Trying to use this method to judge how to get back became obviously a hundred times harder, if not more.

Ming Weiting and Ming Lu followed him. Ming Chi steadied himself on the rocky shore with his cane and carefully looked around. “Oops.”

Ming Chi turned back to find Mr. Shadow. “I think I took the wrong way again. We’ve been here before.”

“No rush,” Ming Weiting walked over, bent down, and took his cane. “Think of it as a walk. The scenery tonight is very nice.”

Ming Chi was standing there in a daze. Hearing this, he couldn’t help but laugh. “A walk among the reefs?”

Ming Weiting nodded, held his shoulder, and made him turn slightly. “Look.”

Ming Chi was a little curious and followed his gaze.

Without Ming Weiting needing to point it out, he saw at a glance a reef with a very special shape—overall rounded, with two distinct protrusions at the top, outlined by the nearby lights.

Ming Chi’s eyes lit up quickly. “A fox.”

“Uncle Lu also found a squirrel just now,” Ming Weiting nodded. “You were too focused, we didn’t get a chance to tell you.”

Ming Chi didn’t expect even Uncle Lu to participate in such a childish game. He was held steady by Ming Weiting, looked up, and glanced over in considerable surprise.

“Next time we take a walk, there will be another chance.”

Ming Lu smiled and nodded. “It’s very similar, you can tell at a glance.”

Ming Chi couldn’t help but lift the corners of his mouth and immediately agreed.

They had indeed been going in circles for quite a while. Ming Chi, while joining in the search for specially shaped rocks, leaned against Mr. Shadow, discreetly relaxing his right leg.

He could guess the reason for this situation himself.

Even if he hadn’t noticed it before, after discovering that he had circled back to the original spot, he pretty much realized what was going on.

Before he was discharged from the hospital, Dean Xun had come to talk to him, telling him in advance about some of the problems that might arise in the future.

The damage to his memory was the main one—of course, this would not cause any change in his personality at all. He was still him, just that he had forgotten some things. The influence and growth of these ten years would still remain; it wasn’t as if his whole person had regressed to ten years ago.

Besides that, there were some trivial little details such as not being easy to wake up once asleep, the short-term memory after that might also be unreliable at times, and he might feel dizzy when he was too tired or unwell…

These details would hardly affect his quality of life at all. As long as he paid extra attention to protecting his body in the future and always had notes and memos on hand, it could be solved. That’s why the near-miss of catching a cold had to be reflected upon.

As for the remaining problem, it was that his ability to judge direction might be slightly poor in the future.

Rarely having the opportunity to eliminate the influence of daytime landmarks, Ming Chi leaned against Mr. Shadow, looked around thoughtfully for a full circle, and finally came to an objective conclusion. “It’s not just a little.”

Ming Weiting looked down and asked, “What?”

“It’s not just slightly poor,” Ming Chi replied, then sighed deeply. “I can’t recognize the way home at all.”

He pressed his right leg. “My sense of direction is now on par with Auntie’s.”

Ming Weiting immediately filtered out the key information. “Auntie doesn’t recognize roads either?”

Every time he heard Mr. Shadow call her “Auntie” along with him, a warmth would spread in Ming Chi’s chest. He nodded and lightly pursed his lips. “Especially not.”

“Every time we went hiking before,” Ming Chi thought for a moment, “when we got lost, Auntie would always lift me up to find the way.”

It wasn’t due to nurture. Some people are indeed born with a complete inability to distinguish directions. Auntie was one such case, yet she particularly loved to go out exploring and adventuring. If she didn’t take the tour bus, she would have to be led by the hand by the steady Big Huo Miao to get down the mountain path smoothly.

So, after they returned to Wanghai, the story of the conch that Mr. Shadow told him again was actually unexpectedly very well-founded—if Auntie had really turned into a wave, it would indeed take a considerably long time to find her lucky fan’s boat.

Ming Weiting thought for a moment and suddenly said, “Oops.”

Ming Chi hadn’t really taken this matter to heart. He had just been bidding farewell and mourning his lost sense of direction for a while. Hearing this, he was curious. “What’s wrong?”

Ming Weiting gathered his arms, letting him lean completely against him. “Uncle Lu doesn’t recognize roads either.”

This time, Ming Chi was completely taken by surprise. “Uncle Lu doesn’t recognize roads either?”

“You can’t say that,” Uncle Lu stood not far away, raising his phone to defend himself. “Technology is very advanced now. Navigation can solve most problems.”

The Ming family’s butler didn’t have the job of steering a boat. Of course, there was no need to distinguish directions when walking on the boat. After getting off the boat, he would follow behind the Ming family’s master. He didn’t need to lead the way when going out on business. As for the rarest situations, as long as there was navigation, it could be completely solved.

Ming Weiting imitated him, lowering his voice. “Every time we went out to sea before, when we got lost, Uncle Lu would make me stand at the bow, saying it was to train my helmsmanship.”

Ming Chi blinked. He didn’t know if this was true or not, but seeing Uncle Lu’s half-amused, half-helpless expression, he couldn’t help but laugh along. “Did the training work?”

Ming Weiting nodded, then continued, “What should we do? Everyone in the family can’t recognize roads.”

He picked Ming Chi up. “This makes me seem out of place.”

Ming Chi actually felt he could still walk. Just as he was about to take back his cane and discuss with Mr. Shadow about letting him down, he happened to hear this sentence.

Of course, such words were not serious. With just a little thought, you would know it was a joke.

But Mr. Shadow, on the rocky beach under the moon, might really have some special bonus.

Although the tone of his voice, the action of picking him up, and the strength of the arm protecting his back were all the same, perhaps it was because the tone of his voice had changed… so something seemed very different again.

…No matter what he said, it was like that touch that had landed on his knuckles. Very light and slow, under the usual rigor, yet with the most gentle deliberation.

Ming Chi, lacking in composure, softened on the spot and no longer insisted on walking on his own.

He knew he had to say something at this time.

Uncle Lu had said such words, and Mr. Shadow had also said such words. He had agreed a myriad of times in his heart, but when it came time to open his mouth, his heart always beat nervously.

Ming Chi’s throat moved slightly. He thought he must have not said these few words for too long, so long that even his lips and teeth felt unfamiliar and stiff when he tried to form the words.

“…Home.”

Ming Chi said slowly, his voice very small, as if afraid of disturbing the sleeping water. “There always has to be someone at home who’s in charge of knowing the way.”

Ming Chi had learned this sentence pattern. He suddenly realized that he quickly grew to like this sentence, so much so that he wanted to say it over and over, so much so that he was instantly filled with a sense of righteous confidence. “There always has to be someone at home who’s in charge of knowing the way.”

“This way, no matter when,” Ming Chi said with righteous confidence, enunciating each word super clearly, “we can all go home together.”

Ming Weiting looked at him, raised his hand to cup the back of Ming Chi’s neck, and touched his forehead with his.

“That’s so good,” Ming Weiting asked, “if there’s one person who knows the way, we can all go home together?”

Of course, Ming Chi nodded. Then he stuck his head out with a straight face and asked the waves, “When is Auntie coming home?”

Ming Chi waited for a moment and then answered himself, “Auntie said she’ll come home after she’s had enough fun.”

Ming Chi specifically pointed out, “Let the only one who knows the way remember to make road signs, otherwise we won’t be able to find it at night.”

A smile overflowed from the bottom of Ming Weiting’s eyes. “I’ll do it right away. I won’t sleep tonight.”

“The master will be back later,” Ming Lu nodded. “I’ll take Huo Miao home and have someone send a searchlight.”

It was already completely unclear who in the family was leading the幼稚. Ming Chi laughed until he had no strength left, burying his head in Mr. Shadow’s neck. “No, no, you have to sleep.”

“I’ll recognize it during the day,” Ming Chi said softly, lightly touching his forehead there. “We’ll do it together.”

Ming Weiting agreed with a sound.

His sense of direction was indeed very good. In this short time, he had already led Uncle Lu and Huo Miao out of the rocky beach. The lights of the main villa building were revealed, which was actually not far from where they were just now.

Ming Chi lay on Mr. Shadow’s shoulder, trying hard to keep his eyes open to see the lights of home.

Ming Weiting wrapped his arm around him again, letting Ming Chi lean more steadily, and gently patted his back. “Sleep if you’re tired. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Ming Chi’s eyelids were indeed about to droop. He had had a super enjoyable time these past few days, whether it was playing the guitar, making pastries, painting, or enjoying the scenery, or even his rehabilitation—he had almost forgotten he was in rehabilitation. The feeling of being able to stand on his own was too good. He was excited with every step he took, as if his energy was endless.

Of course, energy could still be used up. Ming Chi slowly curled his fingers, the fabric of his casual jacket’s collar. His whole person was engulfed by a tide of exceptionally comfortable and light fatigue. “Mr. Shadow.”

Ming Weiting answered softly in his ear.

“Before the surgery, did I leave myself a letter?” Ming Chi said softly. “I think I would have left myself a letter.”

Ming Weiting didn’t answer immediately. His steady footsteps carried him through the garden, walking on the small path inlaid with fine stones. “Wait a few more days.”

“Okay,” Ming Chi blinked, then remembered to ask, “Why?”

“Wait a few days, I have to go out for a bit,” Ming Weiting explained to him. “A boat from home ran aground and had an accident before. We’ve been dealing with the aftermath all this time.”

“The compensation matters have all been sorted out now, and the injured have all been discharged from the hospital. The press conference is set for the end of the month. The Ming family needs to make a statement to the public about the accident and provide assurances about future safety issues.”

Ming Weiting said, “It will probably take three to five days. I was worried you would be bored, so I wanted you to read the letter then.”

He stopped after saying this, waiting for Ming Chi’s reaction.

“Were there any casualties?” Ming Chi was no longer very concerned about the letter. He was a little worried, and he sobered up a bit. “Is it serious?”

Ming Weiting shook his head. “It’s fine. The rescue was very smooth.”

Ming Chi had no impression of this matter at all. He was relieved to hear this answer and then thought carefully for a moment. “Was it because the captain didn’t steer the boat well?”

“Yes,” Ming Weiting did not hide it. “He has already been dismissed.”

Ming Chi suddenly felt a sense of urgency and clenched his fists. “After my rehabilitation is over, I’ll go learn how to steer a boat.”

Ming Weiting nodded, about to speak, then as if suddenly remembering something, he let out a soft laugh.

Ming Chi couldn’t help but be curious. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ll teach you,” Ming Weiting said this sentence slowly. “Finally, I have a chance to teach you.”

Perhaps the atmosphere tonight was too relaxed. Mr. Shadow’s voice sounded low and gentle, even with a rare hint of distress. “How can there be such an amazing person, who can do everything well and doesn’t need anyone to teach them anything.”

Ming Chi was amused by him and quickly blushed, slowly shrinking back to Mr. Shadow’s shoulder. “Who?”

“Who?” Ming Weiting repeated, and then sighed to himself, “So amazing and so strong-willed. As soon as you can take care of yourself, you immediately don’t want anyone’s help.”

How could I not want anyone’s help. Just a few days ago, I almost caught a cold from sleeping. Tonight, I wandered around for half the night and couldn’t find my way. My legs were so weak I couldn’t even stand, yet I was still being stubborn and refused to stop. Now, I can only be held like a five-year-old child, not even making a fuss to get down and run around.

…

Ming Chi’s rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue, but he realized that every sentence was quite unfavorable to himself, almost like a miniature criticism session.

He reflected deeply on himself again, and then still couldn’t hold it in, correcting softly, “I also need help… without help, I can’t even find my way home.”

Ming Weiting continued to sigh softly. “Welcome.”

Ming Chi blinked. “Welcome what?”

“Welcome aboard,” Ming Weiting paused for a moment, “the Wanghai Villa special line tour bus.”

Ming Weiting said, “Specializing in various routes, good at distinguishing directions, professional in picking up and dropping off Huo Miao from home.”

He happened to be at the main entrance of the house when he said this.

Ming Lu opened the door. Ming Weiting changed his shoes at the entrance. After Ming Chi had also sat by the entrance and sorted himself out, he reached out to hold him again.

Ming Chi lowered his head, changed into his slippers, and had already subconsciously reached for his cane.

He had walked too much today. His right leg gave out after one attempt to stand, and he fell down again.

But this kind of thing happened so often that Ming Chi had long since summed up the technique and reacted quite quickly. He supported himself on the ground with one hand, squatted down, and used the cane stuck in the corner of the entryway for support, and he was already standing steadily.

He looked up and saw Mr. Shadow’s hand, and only then did he suddenly come back to his senses.

Ming Weiting hadn’t managed to hold him. He had taken half a step back and waited by his side, his arm protectively behind him, blocking the sharp corner of the shoe cabinet.

Ming Chi had originally wanted to hop over, but now he immediately dismissed the idea. He placed the cane on the shoe cabinet and proactively extended his hand.

Ming Weiting carried him into the living room and walked to the sofa by the fireplace.

Ming Weiting put him down. “Welcome to ride again next time.”

Ming Chi was dumbfounded, his ears turning red as he couldn’t stop laughing, laughing so hard he coughed several times. “No, no… oh dear.”

He just couldn’t say such things. He had to go back to his memory to find a helper and learned to sigh like Auntie, drawing out the sound.

“Taking care of myself.”

He was gently placed on the sofa by Ming Weiting and sat up straight with his arms propped up. “Why don’t I want others’ help?”

The gap in between was so inconspicuous that Ming Chi often accidentally overlooked that all these memories were from more than ten years ago.

He was only ten years old then. Auntie’s tone was that of coaxing a child, and he had learned it directly from her, and his imitation was quite vivid.

Chief Steward Ming coughed lightly, turned his back to pretend he didn’t hear, and promptly hid his smile.

To make it convenient for Ming Chi to practice walking, the house was covered with thick, large, long-pile carpets. Even if he fell, it wouldn’t hurt much.

There were also many cushions on the sofa. Sometimes, Ming Chi didn’t like to sit properly on the sofa and would just sit on the carpet hugging a cushion.

Mr. Ming cooperatively lowered his age, sat cross-legged on the carpet, and looked up at Teacher Huo Miao. “Why?”

“Because,” Ming Chi said these two words and then paused for a moment himself.

…Why?

Because I don’t want to cause trouble, because I don’t want others to have a hard time because of me, because I want to try hard to get better quickly… Of course, all these thoughts would definitely be there.

He would definitely think this way—but just using these thoughts to explain it didn’t seem complete enough.

There should be a more important, more definite reason, one that his mind was constantly thinking about right now.

This reason was something only he, who had experienced these ten years and had grown into an adult, would have. It had never appeared before. He was not familiar with it, so he needed some time to distinguish and summarize it.

Because of this reason, he was almost impatient to be cured in one day.

“Because I want to be cured in one day,” Ming Chi said in one breath. “For example.”

Ming Chi sorted out his thoughts for a moment and sure enough, he managed to get himself all flustered, sitting on the sofa steaming. “I mean, for example.”

“For example, one day, I practice guitar until very late, and I walk back by myself.”

Ming Chi said softly, “It’s dark, and on the way, I see the lights of home are on. I look up and see—see Mr. Shadow waiting for me at the window to come home.”

This situation actually happened every day.

As long as he didn’t accidentally practice until he fell asleep, every night when he came home, walking on that small stone path, leaning on his cane and slowly walking back, he could always see Mr. Shadow waiting for him.

They had agreed to let him have more opportunities to practice, so Mr. Shadow would always wait in his room, waiting for him to walk back to the main house on his own, change his slippers at the entrance on his own, and walk up the second floor on his own, bit by bit.

This process would usually take a long time, but no matter how long it was, his happiest moment was when he turned the corner on the stairs.

The bedroom door would be opened, and the warm-colored light would pour out, covering the entire wooden floor of the second floor with a soft glow, like a warm path.

Someone was always waiting for him at the end of the path.

“…For example, at times like this.”

Ming Chi described this scene in great detail, as if afraid his hints were not clear enough.

He particularly emphasized how warm the light was, how calm, handsome, steady, and reliable Mr. Shadow was, and how happy and anxious he was in his heart.

“Someone is waiting for me to come home.”

Ming Chi lowered his head, steaming, and reasoned softly, “There has to be a day when I can rush all the way up and throw myself directly into his arms, right?”