The young master must have agreed.

This could easily be inferred from the Master’s mood after getting into the car and the frequency with which he lowered his head to chat on his phone.

Ming Lu felt relieved. He turned back from the front passenger seat and handed the compiled materials to Ming Weiting. “Master, this is a portion that might be useful.”

Ming Weiting put down his phone and reached out to take the folder.

He had personally handled the cruise ship accident from start to finish. Even during his days in the hospital, everything had operated according to the procedures set at the beginning.

Ming Weiting gave it a rough look-over, got the gist of it, and closed the folder, placing it to one side. “Uncle Lu.”

Business matters proceeded step by step; accidents and mishaps were bound to happen. As long as they were handled promptly and properly, the concluding tasks, though numerous and trivial, were not difficult.

Ming Weiting asked, “What’s the public opinion situation?”

When a ship sails, it must face unpredictable weather and hydrology. This shipwreck was not the first and would not be the last. He was clearly not asking about the public opinion triggered by this incident.

Ming Lu naturally understood. He didn’t answer immediately, only speaking after a moment of contemplation. “There are no issues, Master. Huaisheng Entertainment has done a very good job.”

During these days of accompanying Ming Chi in his recuperation and rehabilitation, no one at home would mention these things.

Ming Lu would regularly keep an eye on the progress and occasionally contact the management of Huaisheng Entertainment, but he would not relay these matters to Ming Weiting.

Ming Chi was quite sensitive to changes in Mr. Shadow. As soon as Ming Weiting’s mood showed any abnormality, he could sense it almost immediately.

During Ming Chi’s recovery, they had almost deliberately maintained a completely worry-free and relaxed environment, isolating all noise outside the Wanghai Villa, not wanting any external matters to disturb him.

But two lines will not run parallel forever. The cruise ship accident and the shipwrecked passengers would eventually have a point of intersection. The young man who had gone missing in the icy sea—this matter would inevitably be brought up again as everything concluded.

—If Ming Chi would never again appear before others, and would live with them on the high seas forever, at most only acting as a captain to meet the guests coming and going on the cruise ships, then it naturally wouldn’t matter at all.

The high seas were not sovereign territory. If one didn’t consider the potential for brief conflicts and dangers, such a life would at most be a little dull and monotonous.

Just like the previous generation’s Master and Madam.

After the Madam followed the Master onto the ship, she hardly ever returned to shore except to visit relatives.

The young girl who once gave her parents headaches, who would pull the Master to go horse riding and then laugh so hard she couldn’t stand up straight because the Master sat on the horse afraid to move, who held a mask and hummed a song as she was led away from the land by the Master from a dazzling lantern festival, eventually also slowly transformed into the steady and quiet Mrs. Ming.

Ming Weiting closed his eyes and listened to Uncle Lu say, “This was Father’s biggest regret.”

Ming Lu paused. The Ming family’s butler was silent for longer this time than before, and then he smiled. “Yes.”

“Master,” Ming Lu said, “you understand your father better than you think.”

Ming Weiting leaned back in his seat and shook his head.

He still didn’t understand his father. He just thought that perhaps he and his father were the same kind of person.

From a young age, he had believed he would follow the same trajectory as his father. To become that “Master,” to coordinate and handle matters on the high seas, to do business, and then to live out his life step by step.

The ship sailed on the sea. The undercurrents and hidden reefs could sometimes be quite complex, and the hydrological conditions could not always be measured by instruments. Every shipping route needed a preceding ship to scout the way.

He followed behind his father. Whether in power struggles or business, the hidden reefs his father scouted would tell him what to avoid.

“Except for this one matter.” Ming Lu seemed to know what he was thinking.

Ming Lu turned to look at him, paused, and then spoke slowly. “The Master was unclear on what to do until the very end, so he left the shipping route to you.”

Ming Weiting pressed his temples and looked at the scenery rapidly retreating outside the car window.

He still wasn’t used to riding in cars.

Compared to being on a ship, the scenes outside the car window changed far too quickly. Sailing on the sea for a whole day, one might not see as many changes as on this one journey.

Therefore, his mother must have also taken a very long time to get used to being on a ship.

“The documents say,” Ming Weiting retracted his gaze and looked at the folder, “that Huaisheng Entertainment’s press conference wants our cooperation. What are they going to announce?”

“Not necessarily to announce anything, Master,” Ming Lu said. “Press conferences in the entertainment industry are usually for answering questions.” He thought for a moment and explained, “For them, questions need to be responded to and answered, especially with so much having happened recently. They need to use the press conference to state their position. Many people are waiting for answers.”

Ming Lu had not made the decision himself, merely relaying the original words. “They don’t need our extra help. It’s just that some of the replies might involve the cruise ship accident, so they need to discuss with us in advance and confirm a response template.”

Ming Weiting nodded. “No template is needed. They can say whatever they want.”

Ming Lu seemed unsurprised by this answer and smiled. “If they say whatever they want, and certain words are seized upon and used to cause trouble, they are worried it will be disadvantageous for us.”

“It’s fine,” Ming Weiting said. “It was originally an accident caused by an error. There’s no need to shift blame.”

Ming Lu nodded, lowered his head to reply to the message, and then heard Ming Weiting speak again. “Uncle Lu.”

Ming Lu sent the confirmation message and looked back. “Master?”

“Is driving difficult?” Ming Weiting looked out the window. “I want to get a driver’s license.”

Ming Lu was stunned for a long moment, then this time he laughed with genuine sincerity. “Not difficult, not difficult at all.”

“It’s very simple. The principle is similar to steering a ship. When we get home, have the young master teach you.”

Ming Lu put down his phone and guaranteed with a smile, “You’ll definitely learn it in one go.”

…

After the press conference ended, Huaisheng Entertainment also compiled the general public opinion situation from this period.

The venues for the two sides were not far apart, so Fang Hang simply delivered it in person and met with Ming Lu.

Ming Lu hadn’t seen him for some days and was a bit surprised when the door was knocked open. “Manager Fang, your injuries have healed.”

“They’ve healed.” Fang Hang was a bit taken aback and nodded. “That’s why I’ve been watched closely recently. I think they still want to beat me up again.”

He had had many dealings with Ming Lu and was gradually no longer nervous or afraid.

Huaisheng Entertainment’s situation had been improving recently. The external resistance had been resolved, and a group of people were working desperately as if holding their breath for a fight. No matter what, they were gradually getting back on the right track.

Fang Hang also brought a stack of financial statements and resource catalogs representing the company’s status, as well as Huaisheng’s rating in the industry—he knew these were completely useless to the Ming family.

He just brought them over, like every time before, arranging them neatly one by one on the corner of the table, as if handing them over to someone.

Fang Hang aligned all the edges of the papers. He met Ming Lu’s still probing gaze and subconsciously raised a hand to touch his mouth, checking the corner that should have already healed.

…Having such a reaction was not entirely Ming Lu’s fault.

The last time, Fang Hang had truly been beaten quite miserably.

Fang Hang had actually not told anyone the details of this matter.

They had agreed not to tell anyone—after all, a group of up-and-coming management who were already established with families and careers, who could speak eloquently at press conferences, getting into a completely undisciplined brawl… no matter how you put it, such a thing was too unsuitable to be spread within the industry.

They really just wanted to have a fight, no matter what. So Fang Hang wasn’t just a one-sided punching bag; the manager of the film and television production department’s black eye, which he had caused, had only just completely faded not long ago.

They just really wanted to have a fight.

After many things happen, it’s not actually like people predict, where the sequence is necessarily “feel emotion, react, give a response.”

Especially for something one was truly and completely unprepared for.

Emotion is the last thing to slowly awaken.

It comes after you have already made all the reasonable and necessary responses, given all the reactions you should have.

It seems that only at this time do you finally have the time to quiet down and wait for something to slowly corrode that thick iron shell, letting the emotions inside seep into the depths of your body.

That explanation and clarification regarding the company’s internal management regulations was the last piece of content officially posted by Huaisheng Entertainment’s Weibo account.

There were many reposts and comments, and the unceremonious venting and blaming were also within reason. The public relations department asked if they needed to handle it. Fang Hang sat in his office and thought for a long time, then he tried to think about what Young Master Luo would do.

It seemed he wouldn’t do anything.

If Young Master Luo were still here, this Weibo post would be officially pinned to the top.

Whether it was criticizing the company’s management system or some idealistic analysis, he wouldn’t restrict comments, and would protect the company’s artists to the greatest extent from being implicated in attacks and verbal abuse.

So Fang Hang and the others also did nothing, just pinned this Weibo post. As for the latest content below it, it remained stuck on that sunrise by the sea.

The video hadn’t been edited; it was something Fang Hang found on a memory card.

After they posted these two Weibo posts, they suddenly didn’t know what to do or say, so the official account’s updates temporarily stopped there.

The comments grew more numerous day by day. People started asking who the protagonist of “Huo Miao” really was, asking if the name on the cruise ship accident’s missing persons list was just a coincidence, and asking how Young Master Luo, who was supposed to be recuperating in the hospital, could have an accident… The questions piled up, so they replied uniformly that they would hold a press conference on a chosen day.

“After posting that Weibo, some of our artists… were very emotional.”

Fang Hang tugged lightly at the corner of his mouth. He could see that Ming Lu wanted to ask about this matter clearly, so he sat down and said, “There’s a kid, just turned adult not long ago, who has always called Young Master Luo ‘brother’.”

He was a young singer who had stood out in a talent show, named Xiang Luan. He had gotten into arguments with commenters over similar issues before and had been targeted by anti-fans. This time, he was a key person to keep an eye on.

His resources and development this year had been quite good, and his popularity was far from what it used to be. If anything happened again at this time, it would be on a scale far beyond the minor squabbles of the past.

The moment trouble started, his manager confiscated his phone and, with his team, watched him from morning to night. It took great effort to pacify him with words like “Young Master Luo is recuperating in the hospital and can’t be disturbed or worried.”

As a result, as soon as those two Weibo posts were released, Xiang Luan burst through the door of Fang Hang’s office.

…

At first, there were actually people holding him back.

A nineteen-year-old boy has plenty of strength. His manager held him down for dear life, constantly repeating that Young Master Luo was only missing, and that missing still meant there was hope of survival, that it didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t coming back.

“I know!” Xiang Luan struggled while being held down by several people. “That’s not what I’m about! My brother is definitely alive, he’ll definitely live a long life!”

At this age, you dare to think anything, dare to say anything.

Xiang Luan panted heavily, his eyes red as he shouted, “Maybe he floated to some island and was picked up by someone, and he was saved! Those people just can’t find him!”

“Then what are you making a fuss for!” The manager got anxious too, yelling at him, then softened his tone. “Alright, everyone’s feeling bad. The public opinion is like this…”

“I know the public opinion is like this!” Xiang Luan’s voice was laced with tears. “I just don’t know why I’m like this too!”

The manager was stunned, frowning as he looked at him.

“I’m just upset. Why was I so obedient this one time? Why did I think that no matter what happened to him, it would be fine? I just thought he definitely had a way, I just thought he was so stable, he definitely wouldn’t be upset.”

Xiang Luan lay on the floor, speaking intermittently, tears streaming out. “He told me to learn my lesson and not cling to him, so I really didn’t. Such a huge thing happened, and I didn’t even go and tell him once that I believed in him…”

The manager of the film and television production department squatted down and patted his shoulder. “Young Master Luo definitely knows in his heart. If he were here—”

“Even if my brother were here, I’d still be crying and hugging his legs like this! It’s not like it’s the first time!” Xiang Luan yelled at the top of his lungs. “I’d tell him ten thousand times that I believe him! If he’s asleep, I’ll squat by his bed and shout it!”

Xiang Luan completely let go, shaking off the arms holding him and curling up tightly. “Isn’t he the one who most hates seeing fights and conflicts in the company?! Isn’t he the one who can’t stand seeing artists being bullied and upset?! I’m being so unreasonable and immature, why isn’t he back to scold me yet!”

…

When he roared out this sentence, the office fell unusually quiet.

The manager of the film and television production department, whose hand he had forcefully pushed away, had no reaction. He was silent for a long moment, then looked up at Fang Hang.

“I’m just upset. These past few days, I feel upset whenever I think about this. I’m not blaming anyone, I just want to get beaten up.”

Xiang Luan couldn’t cry anymore, and said in a hoarse, low voice, “Just beat me up.”

The manager, on the contrary, stopped holding him back. After a long moment, he stepped back, stood up, and also looked at Fang Hang.

Fang Hang rubbed the corner of his mouth, walked over without a word, hung up the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, and closed the office door.

…

Xiang Luan’s wish wasn’t fulfilled, but it wasn’t ridiculously far off. He was probably the first artist to participate bare-handed in a brawl with the management of an entertainment company.

Why exactly this fight happened, no one could really say anymore.

Perhaps it was just because they had been holding it in for too long and it was too unbearable.

Because no matter how much they buried their heads in work, how much they focused their energy on their jobs, it didn’t seem to solve much, so they thought they might as well just punch a hole through it all.

Or maybe it was like Xiang Luan said… what if there was that possibility?

Of course, to say it like that was a bit too optimistic, too daring in what one imagined, but in the end, the probability of such a possibility still existed—otherwise, the missing persons list wouldn’t be called “missing” and would just be classified as deceased.

In “Huo Miao,” there had also been a disappearance. The person who disappeared that time came back three years later, only changing from Luo Chi to Luo Zhi.

This time’s disappearance, did it also have another one of those extremely low-probability possibilities?

In the comments section of the official Weibo account, what was discussed the most was, in fact, this same possibility.

Because the official result given was always “missing,” even though those people from the Luo family had already processed a death certificate and personally confirmed the matter, the proportion of people in the comments section who refused to accept this result was still quite significant.

Maybe he really was rescued by someone?

Maybe there’s been no news, not because of an accident, but because of some other special circumstance?

—This point quickly found more supporting evidence.

In the video of watching the sunrise by the sea, even if what happened at the time wasn’t enough to attract special attention, looking back after knowing the problem, it was easy to see that Luo Zhi’s body was already having issues.

His legs lacked strength, he had dizziness and tinnitus, he couldn’t remember things… Combined with the previous rumors, even if that hospital of the Ren family had really not given him a check-up, it wasn’t hard to analyze some possible situations.

“Plus… there was a recent post.”

Fang Hang clenched his fist, his throat moving. “A, a pretty mundane record-keeping post, from a forum for patients with intracranial lesions.”

Ming Lu suddenly asked, “You guys visit that kind of forum too?”

“We started to later,” Fang Hang said in a low voice. “We wanted to confirm if Young Master Luo had this kind of illness.”

They also knew that doing so was meaningless and would only add to their worries, but they just couldn’t help it.

Whenever they had free time, they would repeatedly compare those details they had been so careless to ignore at the time with the featured posts on the forum that reminded people to pay attention to getting check-ups.

They still couldn’t help but think, why couldn’t they have been more careful back then, why did they only discover it now?

…A few days ago, they accidentally saw a post on the forum.

“The parents of a little girl, recording the process of their child’s illness, treatment, and recovery, mentioned a ‘big brother’.”

Fang Hang glanced at Ming Lu’s expression, then immediately added, “There were no frontal photos, and no information was revealed. They protected the other person’s privacy very well, it’s just—it’s just there was a shadow.”

“There was a shadow.” Fang Hang’s voice grew lower and lower. He himself felt these words were quite ridiculous. “I know this idea is too ridiculous… but Young Master Luo would curl up like that when he wasn’t feeling well. Many times, before we knocked on the door for a meeting, we would first look at the shadow through the crack in the door.”

Luo Zhi had too many old injuries. He didn’t have a scar-prone constitution and didn’t have too many visible wounds, but those injuries lay dormant in his body, ready to come out and torment him at any moment.

Sometimes when Luo Zhi’s back was uncomfortable, and his tinnitus and dizziness acted up, but he still really wanted to play games, he would curl up in the corner of the sofa, hugging his phone.

Then they would know not to talk nonsense during the meeting, and it was best to confiscate Young Master Luo’s phone after the meeting and press him down on the sofa with a blanket.

Young Master Luo was very easy to take care of. If you covered his head with a blanket and pressed him down, gently patting his back, he would fall asleep in less than three minutes.

Fang Hang said whatever came to mind, explaining his chaotic thoughts in a low voice.

He didn’t know why he had veered the topic here. But he always had a gut feeling that the Ming family’s butler in front of him didn’t seem to mind him asking this question.

…He even suspected that the other person had given him subtle hints.

Every time Fang Hang came to see Ming Lu, after he returned to the company, the few of them would actually gather for a meeting.

Several managers who had just been fighting tooth and nail with others for resources would, with a solemnity that even passersby would find baffling, pick out all possible details and rack their brains to analyze them over and over again.

In fact, the level of attention and the duration of the Ming family’s concern for related matters were already somewhat abnormal.

They were with Young Master Luo almost every day and had no idea what connection Luo Zhi had with the Ming family. If it was just a chance encounter on the ship later, no matter how deep the impression, it wouldn’t be enough to make the Ming family go to such lengths.

Not to mention, Ming Lu coming to them to suggest not to involve the artists… the style of this matter was too much like Young Master Luo.

At that time, public opinion was already a bit dazed from the barrage of one piece of news after another and hadn’t had time to react, let alone vent their anger.

Only Luo Zhi, in such a situation, would have the first reaction of telling them to do this.

Ming Lu nodded and spoke in a gentle voice, “Why not just ask directly?”

“We didn’t dare,” Fang Hang smiled bitterly. “How could we dare? What if…”

What if they were wrong, and the Ming family hadn’t saved Luo Zhi?

What if Luo Zhi’s current condition was so fragile that it couldn’t withstand any stimulation, and their rash inquiry caused a setback to a situation that had just shown a glimmer of hope?

That was a patient forum. The patients there were all undergoing craniotomies. Everyone knew the risks of such a surgery. The post mentioned that the big brother’s condition was much more serious than the little girl’s. What if the surgery—

No.

They couldn’t even consider that.

Fang Hang rubbed his forehead hard. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily.

The shocking, unbelievable ecstasy brought by recognizing that familiar shadow probably lasted only a second before it was suppressed by an overwhelming, intense anxiety.

“We know this illness absolutely cannot be stimulated. If we asked and caused some consequence…” Fang Hang couldn’t continue and, after a pause, jumped over the topic. “That post was updated to the day of the surgery. None of us slept that night. We waited until the next day and saw the post say that all the surgeries in that operating room were successful.”

“We were very happy, but we didn’t dare to breathe that sigh of relief. The post-operative period is also very important.”

Fang Hang said, “Then after a few days… we saw the post mention.”

“The post mentioned,” Fang Hang said, “that the big brother didn’t remember the little sister.”

“It was the head nurse who reminded them.”

“They got to know each other again, became friends again.”

Fang Hang sighed with a bitter smile and raised his hands to rub his face. “Actually, we guessed it.”

Luo Zhi’s memory had been having problems before.

They discovered it later. It wasn’t just that time watching the sunrise by the sea; he had to rely on a memo to remember what they said.

This kind of thing had happened many times before. It had happened during meetings too. One time when Young Master Luo came to work, he even got lost in his own company.

It was just that this change was too slow, too unnoticeable. They had always thought Luo Zhi was just too tired.

Luo Zhi had long since started to get tired easily. He would fall asleep halfway through reading a script, he would suddenly zone out during meetings… They escorted the Young Master Luo who got lost in his own company back to his office. They joked, asking what they would do if Young Master Luo, so young, couldn’t remember the way, and one day forgot them too.

Young Master Luo rubbed his temples, also worriedly curled up on the sofa, and sighed along with the teasing crowd, saying yes, yes, what to do.

…

Fang Hang came back to his senses and met Ming Lu’s gaze.

He just realized that besides asking him those two questions, the other person hadn’t said anything at all, hadn’t refuted him, nor offered any explanation.

Fang Hang swallowed slowly. He looked at Ming Lu’s calm expression, his chest heaving faintly. “So—”

Ming Lu asked, “What’s to be done?”

Fang Hang was stunned for a good ten seconds.

This reaction was completely unlike that of a qualified artist department manager—but he himself seemed to have completely forgotten that fact.

Fang Hang looked at Ming Lu in disbelief.

His eyes, in a sudden instant, lit up with incredible brightness. He shot up and paced back and forth several large steps, then tried his best to calm down by pulling at his hair, wanting to make himself sit back down at the table.

He really couldn’t sit down, so he stood up again.

“What’s to be done.” Fang Hang seemed to repeat it in a low mumble, then immediately came to his senses. “Nothing needs to be done.”

“Nothing needs to be done, nothing at all needs to be done.” Fang Hang jumbled these words around a few times. He stood with his mouth open for a long time, then suddenly laughed out loud. Remembering there were still reporters nearby, he immediately suppressed his voice. “Oh my god.”

Fang Hang was still pulling at his own hair. He simply gave it another tug to confirm he wasn’t dreaming, then laughed. “Do you remember—do you remember Xiang Luan?”

Fang Hang quickly added, “The kid I was just telling you about. He just caused trouble again at the press conference.”

He was talking about his artist “causing trouble again,” yet his face was still full of smiles, showing none of the professional demeanor of an artist department manager.

As soon as Fang Hang saw Ming Lu’s expression, he reacted immediately. “Did you watch the press conference?”

Ming Lu nodded. “How do you plan to handle it?”

The Ming family’s Master was star-chasing. Based on his understanding of the entertainment circle during this period, the trouble Xiang Luan caused this time was probably more serious than the last.

The young singer was an adult this time. If it was inconvenient for Huaisheng Entertainment to handle it, he could offer a resident singer job on the cruise ship that wouldn’t affect his studies.

“Handle what? We’re not handling it.” Fang Hang laughed out loud. “The mouth of our entire company is on him.”

Fang Hang’s tone was light. “What he means is what we mean. Please rest assured, we will handle all matters… everything will be fine.”

“Leave it to us this time.” Fang Hang guaranteed, “Everything will be fine.”

This time, Ming Lu truly smiled and shook his hand.

During the break in the press conference, he and the Master had also gone to the monitoring room to watch that press conference.

Public opinion was just like that.

Extreme voices attract attention, and sensational events stir up emotions.

Even at a time like this, there would still be reporters with ulterior motives proposing the hypothesis of “if Luo Zhi were still alive.” Unfortunately, before they could expand on it further, Xiang Luan snatched the microphone.

“I remember you.” Xiang Luan stared at him. “You were the reporter who jumped the highest when Li Weiming was spreading rumors.”

The nineteen-year-old young singer, the greatest injustice he had ever suffered was being targeted by anti-fans for a few months. The rest of his life had been protected by the company, upright and open. Staring at that group of reporters, his eyes were as sharp as a knife.

“And the press releases your company put out.” Xiang Luan pointed them out one by one. He had written them all down in a notebook. “And the marketing accounts your company collaborated with… that one over there in the blue clothes, stop hiding. I saw you in the live stream. You pretended to be Li Weiming’s fan to block people at the hotel.”

“Our Young Master Luo is missing, do you understand missing? He might still be alive. Maybe our Young Master Luo was picked up by someone and is getting his injuries and illnesses treated. Maybe he’s being taken care of, just like he took care of us—do you not understand what I’m saying?”

“You definitely don’t understand. You don’t even have the most basic sense of shame and morality. Even now, raising this question, aren’t you just trying to shirk responsibility? You can’t shirk it. What you’ve done can’t be changed.”

“Come at me, attack me all you want. If you dare to attack me, I dare to terminate my contract. I won’t implicate Young Master Luo’s company.”

Xiang Luan said, “If Young Master Luo is really gone, I’ll write a song for him every year and go sing it to him alone at sea.”

“If he’s rescued, I’ll go hug his legs and cry.”

“I saw online that he’s sick. If he doesn’t remember us, then let him go live a super-duper good new life. It’s fine if he never comes back. If he does come back, we’ll all rush over, hug him, and toss him into the air.”

Xiang Luan threw down the microphone. He looked at the reporter whose face had changed. “You’re asking what to do if he’s still alive? Who are you, is it your place to ask?”