This was an exceptionally peaceful sleep.

The sound of the ocean tide was closer than when sleeping at the villa, so close it was tangible, almost as if it enveloped the dream.

The cruise ship was docked at the port and was actually quite stable; the slight, imperceptible rocking became the best way to induce sleep.

Ming Chi had no memory of when the sky brightened.

He had a faint impression of having woken up, only to find he was no longer in bed, but still beside Mr. Shadow.

Having confirmed this, Ming Chi felt at ease and was no longer anxious.

He closed his eyes again, lying there completely relaxed for a while, waiting for the lazy, weary sleepiness to gradually fade from his consciousness.

When he opened his eyes again, the rain outside was hitting the glass, and transparent streams of water gathered and flowed down.

The rain at sea was different from the rain on shore.

Even the villa’s terrace couldn’t offer this kind of experience. The sea seemed to be stirred into a mist by the rain, and the pervading water vapor turned both the sky and the sea into a cold, grey color.

At times like these, the light in the room became exceptionally warm.

Ming Chi felt the warmth on his waist. He had just moved slightly when the arm around his waist and back tightened, pulling him closer into the embrace.

They were in a double chaise lounge by the window. The double-paned glass completely sealed out the moisture and chill, and next to them was a warm, miniature fireplace.

“Awake?” Ming Weiting lowered his head and touched his forehead. “Does it still hurt?”

Aside from his arm, which was so sore he’d grimace at the slightest movement, Ming Chi couldn’t remember any part of him hurting.

Ming Chi blinked. He got his just-awakened brain working and, after a moment’s thought, came up with an answer: “They also tattled, saying my back injury acts up on rainy days.”

Ming Weiting nodded. “The past few times, I didn’t notice.”

Today’s rain was a thunderstorm, a cumulonimbus cloud blown in by the wind according to the weather forecast. It had been sunny and bright in the morning, but not long after, the sky had suddenly turned gloomy.

Neither of them had slept well these past few days, and they had both gone to bed late yesterday. Ming Weiting had been woken up by Ming Chi gently tugging on his shirt. He subconsciously reached out to touch his forehead and felt a handful of cold sweat.

Ming Weiting held his hand and pointed to himself. “Who was it, so careless?”

Ming Chi couldn’t help but laugh. “It was me, it was me.”

He proactively admitted it, then explained, “It used to hurt before. It hasn’t acted up for a long time. It’s probably because I’ve been lying down a lot while recuperating.”

Ming Chi had actually heard about that documentary. He was too embarrassed to watch it himself, but he roughly knew what it was about and what it would be about.

If the experiences of those few years were to be filmed, it might be a bit too cruel. The only lasting old injuries were the hearing loss in his left ear and the back injury. The rest were just harmless scars, which was already quite remarkable.

Ming Chi himself was very content. His back injury wasn’t actually that serious; it was just a bit harder to bear on cloudy and rainy days. Plus, he hadn’t paid much attention to it in the past and hadn’t properly recuperated over the years.

…It was mainly because he hadn’t properly recuperated.

The doctor had mentioned at his last check-up that he was still young. As long as he strictly followed the doctor’s orders to lie down and rest, not to worry or overexert himself, and not to run around and cause trouble, he could be as healthy as anyone else in three to five months at most.

A back injury needed to be nursed. It was taboo to sit at a desk for long periods, walk, or stand for a long time.

He had been mostly lying down recently, so the old injury had barely acted up even when it rained. Yesterday, he had been anxious while chasing Xiang Luan and hadn’t paid much attention, and it seemed he had indeed accidentally strained it.

Ming Chi felt a little guilty and criticized himself. “Not taking care of my body, waking Mr. Shadow up early in the morning to ask for medicine.”

“This was very well done,” Ming Weiting stroked his hair. “I was just about to present you with an award.”

Ming Chi hadn’t finished his self-reflection yet. He was stunned for two seconds and, disappointingly, felt a little tempted. “What award?”

Ming Weiting hadn’t actually thought of one. He looked down at Ming Chi, who was wrapped snugly in a blanket with only his head showing, and borrowed Uncle Lu’s private assessment: “The most reassuring child.”

The little child immediately propped himself up from the chaise lounge with his arms, about to leap down for Mr. Shadow with unyielding spirit.

Ming Weiting laughed out loud. He timely scooped the person back to his side and patted his back gently. “Big friend.”

Ming Chi also felt he was being childish and couldn’t help but purse his lips.

His right arm was still aching badly. He let go and lay back down, slowly moving his somewhat stiff shoulders and back.

“Because you don’t hide it from me when you’re uncomfortable,” Ming Weiting’s hand rested on Ming Chi’s back. He lifted him up and propped him up a bit higher. “So when you’re happy, I know you’re genuinely comfortable.”

He answered properly this time, looking at Ming Chi with a very serious gaze. “This feeling is very reassuring.”

Ming Chi’s ears grew warm.

He somehow wanted that award again. He held Ming Weiting’s hand, which was resting on his waist, and promised, “Three to five months.”

“For these three to five months, I will completely obey orders and follow commands,” Ming Chi thought for a moment and promised quite seriously. “If told to lie down, I will absolutely not sit. If told to sit, I will absolutely not stand.”

Ming Weiting asked, “Completely follow commands?”

Ming Chi couldn’t think of any problems and nodded confidently.

A smile appeared in Ming Weiting’s eyes. He raised his free hand and gently ruffled Ming Chi’s head. “Don’t move.”

After speaking, Ming Weiting got up and left the chaise lounge.

The pillow had been idle on the side. He swapped it back, letting Ming Chi rest his head on it and lie down comfortably.

Ming Chi subconsciously started to get up, but was gently pressed on the shoulder by Mr. Shadow. Remembering his promise, he lay back down.

“Wait for me,” Ming Weiting said softly. “I’ll be quick.”

Ming Chi was a little curious but still nodded cooperatively.

He watched Mr. Shadow leave, then turned his attention back to the window, watching the glistening streams of water pierce through the mist that connected the sky and the sea.

The roar of the thunderclouds seemed both near and far. There were large ripples on the sea surface. Seabirds tucked their wings and darted through, exuding a particularly agile sense of power.

The fireplace was warm, and the light in the room was bright. He felt as if he were wrapped in this bit of warm-colored light, and thus the cold-colored mist outside also became mysterious and vast.

As long as there was nothing he had to do, Ming Chi actually didn’t mind just lying in the chaise lounge like this for a long, long time.

In the exceptionally comfortable drowsiness that was creeping up on him again, Ming Chi also gradually remembered what had happened this morning.

He had been woken up by his back injury, completely unable to move. After thinking for a while, he had woken up Mr. Shadow, wanting a painkiller.

Ordinary painkillers had little effect on him anymore. A follow-up visit had also found that his sleep quality was poor, so the medicine Dean Xun had prescribed for him contained a considerable amount of hypnotic ingredients.

Plus, he himself wasn’t fully awake, so he couldn’t completely distinguish between reality and dream.

…So after washing up, he found that it was raining outside and insisted on wanting to watch the rain all day with the teenage Mr. Shadow from his dream.

So he led the Mr. Shadow from his dream, and the two of them stood by the window hand in hand. He even told the teenage Mr. Shadow many stories.

He stood in front of the window, and as he talked, he fell asleep again.

So when he woke up again, he was lying with the Mr. Shadow from outside the dream in a double chaise lounge that had appeared from nowhere.

The little child thought calmly for a moment, then stealthily pulled the blanket up over his head.

These old injuries must also be properly nursed and completely resolved as soon as possible.

He never wanted to take any more painkillers.

…

Ming Weiting did indeed return quickly.

When he returned to the room, someone was buried under the blanket, half-asleep, and was gently peeled out of the blanket with practiced ease. “Does your back still hurt?”

Ming Chi shook his head. He grasped the outstretched hand for support and stood firmly on the floor. “Completely fine.”

Ming Weiting waited until he was standing steady before letting go, handing him the cane. “Continue sleeping in a bit.”

“Okay,” Ming Chi agreed quite readily. This kind of weather was meant for sleeping comfortably all day and then going out in the evening feeling refreshed. “Does Mr. Ming have work to do?”

Mr. Ming nodded.

“What to do,” Mr. Ming sighed. “There’s a lot.”

Ming Chi hadn’t actually expected this answer and looked up, a little surprised.

As his memory gradually returned, he gradually remembered the dream from the morning that wasn’t entirely a dream, remembered chatting with the teenage Mr. Shadow.

It was most likely a case of “what you think about by day, you dream about by night”—Uncle Lu had told him those things, and last night he really had dreamed that the teenage Mr. Shadow came to find him, wanting to carry him onto the ship.

In the dream, he was sitting alone by the reef. Seeing the outstretched hand, he had jumped down and taken it.

The rain was pouring. He had pulled the teenage Mr. Shadow back to the villa. They ran into his small house, and the two of them grabbed towels and vigorously scrubbed each other, drying off the water.

They stood by the window, eating the pastries he had made while watching the rain, their arms touching as they chatted.

He had asked the teenage Mr. Shadow if, as Mr. Ming, he would have a lot of work.

“In the morning, I certainly didn’t answer this way.”

Ming Weiting placed his hand on the top of his head, bent his shoulders, and proactively confessed, “At that time, I said, not at all, you can sleep in every day.”

Ming Chi knew he must have accidentally asked.

For the time being, he couldn’t be bothered to pursue the matter of Mr. Ming deceiving a child in a dream. He composed himself and quickly searched his memory, checking if he had asked any particularly strange questions.

“The questions you asked were all very practical,” Ming Weiting seemed to know what he was thinking and proactively helped him answer. “For example, whether the cruise ship provides meals, whether there’s work for you to do, and what the accommodation is like.”

Then, of course, the Mr. Ming from outside the dream had to seize the opportunity and do his best to sell it.

“I told you that the accommodation is very superior. A single room with a private bathroom, fireplace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a balcony.”

Ming Weiting said, “The bed is big, the carpet is thick, you can lie down anywhere you want.”

Both the Ming Chi in the dream and the one outside the dream were quickly convinced and nodded sincerely. “What about the working conditions?”

“Very flexible. You can choose any kind of work, and you can also play the guitar.”

Ming Weiting replied, “But in the end, you have to be the captain, so you need to receive training and have sailing experience.”

“I will do the training,” Ming Weiting added. “We’ll also gain experience together. The first stop will be the Caribbean. There are many islands there, and we can also dive to see underwater caves and play with the schools of fish.”

“I’m also raising a conch. I’m raising it well, and I think it’s grown bigger,” Ming Weiting said. “We’ll go see it in a while.”

Ming Chi listened intently, gradually starting to feel that even if he went back ten years, he might really be convinced.

He nodded, put on a look of considerable longing, and continued to ask, “Do they provide meals?”

Ming Weiting looked at him, smiled, and took a jacket to drape over his shoulders.

This was the very casual jacket that had summoned the thirteen “ah”s. Ming Chi had seen it in the pre-surgery sketches. He patted it affectionately in greeting and wrapped himself in it.

“They do,” Ming Weiting said. “Early this morning, I left for a short while and made some preparations in advance.”

Ming Chi finally began to realize that the faint smell of wheat was not his imagination.

He opened the bedroom door a little, wrapped in the very warm jacket, peeked his head out, and took a deep breath of the cool, rainy air, keenly catching that pure, sweet aroma.

“I haven’t been able to learn the chestnut filling yet. I’m still working hard.”

Ming Weiting walked over. “I just learned this these past few days, so I’ve accumulated a bit of work—would you mind if I moved the double chaise lounge to the study?”

That would be very much minded.

Ming Chi looked at him, cooperatively pressing his lips together. “What to do.”

The little mister’s health requirements were quite strict. “When sleeping on a rainy day, one must have a chaise lounge.”

“So I’ll just have to go to the study too, to sleep with someone who has unfinished work.”

Ming Weiting picked up the end of his sentence, nodded, and proactively criticized Mr. Ming, “How so domineering.”

Ming Chi couldn’t help but laugh out loud and spoke up for Mr. Ming. “Not domineering. I just like sleeping in the study.”

“Not domineering at all,” Ming Chi thought for a moment. “Do you need relaxation and music services during work breaks? It can be provided for free. Very professional. The price for one hour is a hug.”

Ming Weiting prepaid for one hour. He pulled Ming Chi into his arms, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his cheek against his soft, short hair.

Ming Weiting called him softly, “Little mister.”

Ming Chi’s height was actually quite normal. But he didn’t know if it was because life at sea was particularly helpful for growing taller, or if his aunt’s saying “eat more fish to grow taller” was actually true—in short, after his body fully recovered and he stood up straight with his chest out, there was still a small height difference between him and Mr. Shadow.

Twenty-three, a time for a growth spurt. Ming Chi still had confidence in himself. He stood on his tiptoes a little and gently patted his back.

“Do you have this feeling?” Ming Weiting said. “Because you’re too happy and things are going too smoothly, you start to doubt if it’s a dream.”

Ming Chi thought for a moment. “I did at the beginning.”

But back then, he had a headache eight hundred times a day. No matter how much he suspected it was a dream, reality mercilessly proved it was real.

—As for these past few days, if he had such doubts again, he could just touch his head.

He had, after all, undergone a craniotomy. The head surgeon’s subcuticular suturing technique was extremely exquisite. It was completely invisible when covered by hair, but if one were to touch it firmly, one could still find the traces.

The day Ming Weiting and Ming Lu had just left the villa, Ming Chi had woken up from bed and was truly in a daze for a good ten minutes or so.

He had spent some time looking for evidence to prove to himself that this wasn’t a dream, that everything that had happened was a fact.

…To be honest, those ten minutes were actually a bit agonizing.

But perhaps it was precisely because of this very brief agony that after confirming everything was real, the sweet aftertaste that came up was even more reason to be happy.

“It’s not a dream, I can be sure,” Ming Chi proactively suggested. “If you’re still not at ease, we can go out and get drenched in the rain for a bit.”

Ming Weiting knew he wanted to be in the rain. A smile appeared in his eyes, and he shook his head. “Wait until the rain gets lighter.”

“I’m at ease now. I was at ease this morning.”

Ming Weiting said, “I finished preparing the bread and returned to the room to see you sleeping on my side of the bed.”

The weather was still good at that time, the sun a bit strong, and the air conditioning in the room was set low. Ming Chi was sleeping drowsily. Sensing his return, he had rolled over with the blanket and tugged at him to quickly lie down before the warmth escaped.

—There is always a minute or two, or even shorter, perhaps just a few dozen seconds, a few seconds.

Perhaps a single moment is actually enough.

The things that happen in that moment will make everything unbelievably real. It lets one’s heart settle, to no longer think about anything.

Ming Weiting reached out his hand, calling him as he had in the dream, “Huo Miao.”

Ming Chi had just raised his arms and put on the jacket that was at least two sizes too big. He pursed his lips and proactively gave him his hand.

“Come with me,” Ming Weiting said. “From now on, there will be wheat bread every day.”