Wheat bread is the most delicious bread.

This conclusion might change at any time once Mr. Shadow learns to make other filled breads… but in any case, it should hold true for a while.

After all, judging from the current evidence, Mr. Ming indeed had a lot of work to handle.

After lunch, Ming Chi migrated to the study. Wrapped in the jacket, he closed his eyes again to the sound of the rain and the warm flames of the fireplace, having a very comfortable nap.

When he woke up, the stack of documents waiting to be processed on the desk seemed to have hardly diminished.

“Uncle Lu brought another portion.”

Ming Weiting put down his pen and walked over, cashing in an hour of relaxation services, and explained to him, “Some of the routine work later, if it can be completed in advance, will free up a lot of time.”

“Because I have company,” Mr. Ming gave his feedback. “There are no issues with the progress. It’s being handled very smoothly.”

In fact, the progress was far smoother than in the past few days.

During the days he was out working, Ming Weiting, while handling his work, still couldn’t help but think of Ming Chi, who was left at the villa.

He knew that Ming Chi needed some time to read the letters and find his past on his own, and he also knew that the other was fully capable of handling it alone. But reason was not always sufficient to restrain emotions—he couldn’t fully understand this in the past, but now he no longer needed Uncle Lu to explain it.

One night, Ming Lu had actually gone back once to get some necessary documents, but more importantly, to confirm Ming Chi’s condition with the people at the villa.

The night they left, Ming Chi hadn’t rushed to read those letters.

Ming Chi knew every path in the villa and had walked a complete circle around it by himself. He had walked through every place, touched every familiar brick, and finally returned to the garden next to the small house.

There used to be a very small garage there, which could only park one car. Later, because it had been idle for too long, it was demolished, and the garden was extended, planted with flowers and grass.

But because a car had been parked on that ground for many years in the past, if one were to part the flowers and grass and look carefully, one could still find the remaining tire tracks.

Ming Chi had lain down there. He had lain with the flowers and grass for over an hour, pillowing his head on his arm, watching the sun go down together.

…

After that, everything was normal. When Ming Chi heard someone coming out to look for him, he sat up and waved proactively, thanking the person who came to get him with a smile in his eyes. He went back for dinner and medicine, and after washing up, he returned to the bedroom.

They had talked for a long time that night and even had a phone call. Ming Chi had recorded a guitar lullaby and sent it to him, reminding Mr. Shadow to sleep well.

In the answers Ming Lu got, the little young master’s condition was also quite good—eating and sleeping on time, focusing on rehabilitation, and walking more steadily each day than the last. From the second day on, Ming Chi started reading the letters, and also continued to practice guitar and draw. He even found time to go to the kitchen to research two new dishes. They were responsible for tasting, and after a few adjustments, the taste became quite amazing.

If there was anything slightly special… it was the morning of the day after they left.

The people from the Ming family who stayed at the villa were also very fond of this new little young master. Some who had been with the master for a long time couldn’t help but strike up a few more conversations with him, reminding him, as per the doctor’s instructions, to practice and rehabilitate in moderation.

Ming Chi would always listen earnestly and thank them seriously. He would also proactively greet them, but most of the time, he would still just smile without speaking, listening to others chat and laugh from the side.

Everyone had long since gotten used to this—whenever the master and Butler Ming were not around, Ming Chi’s words were usually few.

But that morning, Ming Chi had walked out of his room and had spoken to everyone.

The content of the conversation was very ordinary, just some things about the master, and they had answered as usual.

Later, Ming Chi had asked for his medical records. After getting them, he went back to his room and read them for about ten minutes. When he came out again, he was back to being completely his usual self.

“This kind of situation is too common,” Xun Zhen explained to them when Ming Lu mentioned this detail. “It’s not just a psychological issue; it’s also the effect of the head surgery. Impaired positioning ability is not only manifested in spatial positioning ability—not to mention he has forgotten ten years of his life.”

During the preparation phase of the surgery, Xun Zhen had heard the team discuss many related topics. “Even many patients with no memory impairment will occasionally have problems with self-integration, unable to locate ‘themselves’ for a moment.”

“There’s no need to avoid this,” Xun Zhen reminded them. “More communication will provide more information. When new information is supplemented, this situation will be alleviated immediately.”

…

The casual clothes in Ming Chi’s arms were replaced by the person himself. His eyes immediately curved into a smile, and he pulled Mr. Shadow into the chaise lounge as well.

He skillfully gave Mr. Ming a massage on his temples in exchange for a while, and upon hearing Ming Weiting’s question, he paused to think. “It’s not that serious at all.”

He wasn’t so disoriented that he couldn’t locate himself at all—after all, his short-term memory was on and off. He always carried a notepad with him, and he had retained the habit of silently reviewing and memorizing it every night before bed.

When he woke up that morning, he just hadn’t seen Mr. Shadow, so he had felt uneasy for a little while.

“What would you think?” Ming Weiting asked. “Worried that I wouldn’t come back?”

Mr. Ming had already adapted well to the chaise lounge and was quickly taught to relax by the little mister. Even the pillow’s position was replaced as he wrapped an arm around Ming Chi’s head and neck, letting Ming Chi rest on his shoulder.

The two of them snuggled comfortably in the chaise lounge. Beside them was the floor-to-ceiling window being washed by the rain. The firelight from the fireplace reflected on the window, and outside was a cool-toned, pervading water mist.

There was no one else in the room, but to match Ming Chi’s accustomed volume, they still chatted very softly, their foreheads touching.

It was the kind of posture for which, if Uncle Lu were to pass by, he would surely award two “Most Reassuring Child” prizes.

“Not really,” Ming Chi didn’t worry about this at all and shook his head without hesitation. “It’s not that serious.”

Ming Weiting stroked his hair. “Not that serious?”

“Yeah,” Ming Chi himself didn’t remember very clearly. He paused to recall for a while and remembered the situation at that time. “I was just worried, such a big Mr. Shadow.”

He laughed, then raised his hand with a straight face and gestured. “Was just something I imagined.”

The room, of course, had traces of two people’s lives, and there were many things that didn’t belong to him. The shell pavilion, the jacket, the computer, all lined up waiting for his inspection.

It certainly wasn’t hard to find evidence… it’s just that.

It’s just that, given Ming Chi’s understanding of his own abilities, if he really had imagined a Mr. Shadow due to the surgery or some other reason, he could really do it to such an extent to make himself happy.

The little mister’s definition of “serious” seemed a bit skewed.

Ming Weiting held Ming Chi’s hand, letting him rest his arm on him. “This isn’t serious?”

“This isn’t serious,” Ming Chi mimicked him, thought for a moment, and smiled again. “Actually, I could have just checked my phone, sent a message, or made a call to solve it. I just didn’t think of it at the time.”

Perhaps it was also that in those few seconds, he instinctively didn’t want to open it, didn’t want to face any possible outcome.

He only used his phone to play games and wasn’t very interested in chatting or phone calls. It seemed he hadn’t developed the habit of checking it regularly in the past.

The day Ming Weiting and Ming Lu left, Ming Chi had stood by the window for a while. When he returned to the desk, he saw the notification for an unread message on his phone screen. His heart seemed to skip a beat, and his body instinctively broke out in a cold sweat.

—However, this problem was also quickly and completely cured in just a few short minutes.

Ming Chi couldn’t help but get distracted from the current topic, thinking about those chat records.

He thought about it intently for a while, and the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but lift up again.

It had been so long, and this was the first time he and Mr. Shadow had chatted via phone… that feeling was truly quite wonderful.

Every short interval was filled with anticipation. Every message received and potentially received was a cause for happiness. When you received each message, you couldn’t help but think of the sender on the other side, imagining their expression and mood as they typed those words.

Ming Chi said whatever came to mind, so he told all of this to Mr. Shadow. “In the future, if there’s a chance, I’d like to chat via message more often.”

Ming Weiting felt exactly the same way, but he still didn’t really want this kind of situation to happen again. He lowered his head. “A chance?”

“Of course,” Ming Chi gave an example. “For example, when Mr. Ming is in the study and I’m in the bedroom, and you need me to come up and provide relaxation services.”

Ming Weiting’s line of thought wasn’t as broad as his. It was only upon hearing this that he suddenly developed a clear sense of anticipation as well. He turned and listened to him intently.

Ming Chi had originally just casually given this one example. Meeting the suddenly serious and attentive gaze, a sense of responsibility immediately arose, and he continued to think flexibly and expand his ideas.

“For example, when Mr. Fox is in the kitchen and I’m in the art studio, and you need me to come and give the bread an artistic shape.”

“For example, when Mr. Shadow is in the bedroom and I’m practicing guitar in the small house, and it’s getting dark, and you need me to come home quickly to sleep.”

“For example…” Ming Chi paused, looked at Mr. Shadow who was just short of finding a notebook to jot things down, and laughed. “For example, we’re in the same room, and we can see each other just by looking up.”

But for the time being, no one had time to look up because both had things to do. Mr. Ming had to work, and he was preparing to systematically start learning about sailing.

At this time, if someone suddenly had a whim and thought they could take a break for a while, or go out for some fresh air.

Mr. Ming had been of a rigorous temperament since he was young. If he said it directly, both the inviter and the invitee would inevitably be somewhat embarrassed.

Ming Chi took some time to fish out his phone from the pocket of the chaise lounge, which he had casually tossed in before sleeping.

He unlocked the screen, opened the chat application, quickly typed a few words, and hit send.

Ming Weiting’s phone, which was on the desk, chimed. He was slightly startled, then reacted, smiling as he stroked Ming Chi’s hair.

He carefully settled Ming Chi, then left the chaise lounge to get his phone from the desk and opened the unread message.

「Little Mister: The rain is getting lighter.」

Ming Weiting looked at this message. He thought about what Ming Chi had said to him. When he saw a message, he would imagine the other person’s expression and mood.

He really was thinking about these things.

Because of the angle, he couldn’t see Ming Chi, who was almost buried in the chaise lounge, at the moment. So he thought, when the little mister sent this message, he probably couldn’t help but smile, his lips pursed, and his ears would get hot.

He had been thinking about these things these past few days. He wondered if Ming Chi, when he sent him messages, was really as calm and comfortable as his words suggested, or if he too sometimes couldn’t sleep, thinking about what was written in those letters, and what changes Ming Chi would undergo after reading them.

The letters were on his computer, without any password or protection, but Ming Weiting hadn’t read them.

He thought that the right to know and the right to decide on these matters should belong to Ming Chi—there was no problem with how this was handled. The problem was with another matter that needed to be adjusted in their life going forward.

Ming Weiting replied in the message box: 「Good morning.」

The few seconds that Ming Chi paused were clearly spent reconfirming the time “13:40” in the upper right corner of his phone. Then the chaise lounge moved a couple of times, and a head popped out, swaying.

Ming Weiting happened to see this scene. He suppressed a smile, walked over, and lifted Ming Chi from the chaise lounge to the desk.

The office chair was very comfortable and spacious. Ming Weiting sat in it, letting Ming Chi lean against his arm, and placed his hand on the desk.

Ming Weiting took his private seal, lowered his head to ask for Ming Chi’s opinion, dipped it in a bit of ink paste, and stamped it on Ming Chi’s palm.

“Even if we don’t see each other, we should still send a message every morning.”

Ming Weiting said, “If I send ‘good morning’ that day, the little mister will know that the shadow is real.”

The seal was the work of a master, every stroke clean and crisp, carved with powerful and vigorous lines, very artistic.

Ming Chi was intently appreciating those few masterful strokes. Hearing this, he looked up, stunned for a moment before he reacted.

He himself had already jumped to the next, next, next topic. He hadn’t expected Mr. Shadow to still be thinking about this. Looking at the small seal again, his chest suddenly grew hot, and his ears turned red unconsciously. “No problem.”

“I knew it anyway,” Ming Chi said softly.

Ming Weiting turned off the desk lamp and looked down at him.

Ming Chi coughed warmly. He waited carefully for the ink to dry, then clenched his fist, treasuring it as he hid it in the pocket of Mr. Shadow’s jacket.

He and Mr. Shadow were squeezed into the chair together. The space was small, a little dark, and very warm.

Ming Chi was already very used to the bright and spacious living room on the second floor of the villa, and also very used to the comfortable and spacious bedroom on the cruise ship, but he still couldn’t help but like this kind of not completely enclosed, small space that had light filtering in but was still dark enough.

“That morning,” Ming Chi said, “I sat in the closet for a while and thought about a bunch of things.”

Ming Weiting cupped the back of his head and neck and gently ruffled it a couple of times.

“In the end, I found a very powerful piece of evidence. In the area of the ocean, I couldn’t possibly have such a rich imagination and knowledge reserve.”

Ming Chi laughed. “Speaking of the Caribbean, my previous impression was all about roguishly handsome pirates with dreadlocks.”

Ming Chi said, “I held my medical records and recited them to myself in the closet for five minutes, confirming that these must have been told to me by a super cool person.”

Ming Weiting didn’t speak, but his arms tightened, and his chin rested on the top of his head.

Through the shirt and chest cavity, he could hear Mr. Shadow’s heartbeat right next to him.

Ming Chi tapped it, specifically telling the heart on the other side, “I’m saying this to fulfill our agreement, not to make Mr. Shadow sad.”

They had agreed that he would say it whenever he felt uncomfortable, so that whenever he saw the other person happy, he could be sure that he was genuinely comfortable and happy.

Actually, this matter wasn’t as serious as it was described.

It was just for a short while. His short-term memory wasn’t very reliable anyway. If Dean Xun hadn’t relayed this matter and Mr. Shadow hadn’t brought it up, he himself would have almost forgotten it.

“I’m not sad,” Ming Weiting held his hand and answered, lowering his head. “You praised him for being cool. He felt nervous.”

Ming Chi’s eyes widened, and he looked up at Mr. Shadow.

He had taken a nap here earlier. To let him sleep peacefully, the main light in the room wasn’t on, and the light from this angle wasn’t very clear.

The rain outside had indeed lightened, but the sky hadn’t cleared yet, and the natural light from the window was half-blocked by Ming Weiting.

Ming Chi thought for a moment, couldn’t suppress a smile, and patted the chest opposite him. “It’s a fact. Don’t be nervous.”

He continued, “I was just thinking at that time, at the very least, putting other things aside, I must have seen such a cool gentleman with my own eyes, and we had a conversation.”

This cool gentleman accepted the fact well, nodded, and added, “We talked for many days.”

Ming Chi pursed his lips and amended obligingly, “We talked for many days.”

…

Then he stopped and was silent for a moment.

This cool gentleman looked down at him. Seeing that he was deliberately not speaking, he raised his hand and lightly tapped his forehead.

Ming Chi had just taken a deep breath to prepare and coughed with a laugh. “Then that makes it easy.”

“He’s a real person, right? Since he’s a real person, I can just go find him.” Ming Chi said confidently, “I’ll go after him.”

Ming Weiting lowered his head and asked, “Go after him?”

Ming Chi nodded. He had finally led the conversation to this point. He let out a long breath and looked up with a burning gaze. “I just don’t know what he likes.”

Ming Weiting was slightly taken aback by his gaze and didn’t speak immediately. He just pressed down on Ming Chi’s hair again and ruffled it gently.

“Maybe you don’t have to,” Ming Weiting said after a moment of contemplation. “He’s chasing you.”

Ming Chi knew about this. He had secretly admired the magnificent “Stanning Guide” from Uncle Lu’s side and nodded. “We’ll each chase our own.”

Mr. Shadow chased his star.

He chased Mr. Shadow.

Ming Chi couldn’t help but get distracted again, imagining the two of them running in circles for a while, then quickly deleting the image.

…At such a serious and proper time, he couldn’t be thinking of such strange scenes.

In the future, when they were eighty, it could be drawn as a manga extra.

“I,” Ming Chi pointed to himself, then to Ming Weiting’s desk, “am the world.”

He used his right hand to imitate a small person walking, jumping from his chest onto Mr. Shadow’s arm, and walking towards the desk-world. “You are my path, Mister.”

Ming Chi said softly, “I like the world, and I like the path.”

“In the future, I will like the world more,” Ming Chi said. “And like the path more.”

The two fingers he used to imitate walking stopped. The index finger bent, and the middle finger knelt down.

He didn’t know if Ming Weiting could understand, but he still approached like this, bit by bit, and gently touched the other’s arm with his knuckle.

This time, his whole person probably turned red.

Here, we must discuss the issue of natural skin tone again—Ming Chi actually quite admired the state of the sailors of the Ming family. But after diligently sunbathing for a few days, aside from the exposed parts turning red, there was almost no other effect.

The Ming Chi who returned to his room was quite dejected about this for a while and could only continue to read the letters he had left for himself before the surgery.

He opened the next one, which happened to be him persuading himself to think more openly: 「You won’t tan, nor will you turn a healthy wheat color.」

「But you might get sunburned.」 The pre-surgery him warned the post-surgery himself. 「If you don’t use sunscreen, you will be criticized, and there will be no peach candy or watermelon at night.」

…

These memories flashed through Ming Chi’s mind, but it didn’t affect him from rapidly flushing hot, even the knuckle that touched Ming Weiting’s arm turned red.

Ming Chi’s finger-person held its breath, kissed Mr. Shadow, then jumped up, turned, and ran. After running a few steps, it was caught by another hand and cupped in a palm.

Ming Chi looked up, steaming, and met Ming Weiting’s descending gaze.

“Let’s go get drenched in the rain,” Ming Weiting answered the message the little mister had sent. “The rain has lightened.”

Ming Chi’s eyes immediately lit up, and the thought from just now was instantly thrown to the winds.

To match the atmosphere of the study, he had already changed his clothes before coming. He was now covered with a waterproof jacket by Ming Weiting, and a baseball cap was added on his head.

Ming Weiting himself was also dressed casually. Life at sea was not always suitable for suits and ties. His casual clothes, from some unknown brand collaboration, were quite tasteful, and each casual piece was designed just right.

The study had a gangway that led directly to the outside of the cabin, originally intended to be convenient for Ming Weiting to go down and deal with sudden situations on the ship at any time, or for business guests to go directly to the study—in any case, this was the first time it was used for such a purpose.

Mr. Ming held the little mister’s hand. The little mister’s right leg was still sore. When he reached the last few steps, he really couldn’t walk anymore and simply stopped.

Mr. Ming walked faster than him and reached out to him from the bottom of the gangway.

The little mister pursed his lips, jumped down, was caught steadily, and placed on the deck.

The wet deck was a bit slippery. He wasn’t holding his cane at the moment, but someone was holding him very steady, so there was no problem at all.

The rain at noon was not as cold as in the morning. Because half the sun had broken through the clouds, the rainwater almost had a certain warm temperature.

They stood at sea. The accumulated water on the deck reflected the golden light of the sun, and the warm rainwater fell on their bodies and heads.

Butler Ming inadvertently looked outside and happened to see the two, a big one and a small one, who were not at all reassuring. He pulled open the window and was about to speak, but Ming Weiting had already pulled Ming Chi away, and their shadows were gone.

“I’ve had this dream,” Ming Chi was pulled along by Ming Weiting, walking quickly. He was panting heavily because he hadn’t fully recovered his stamina, but his tone was light and urgent. “I’ve dreamed that we were running in the rain.”

Ming Weiting turned around. Ming Chi couldn’t stop in time and crashed firmly into his embrace.

Ming Weiting held him steady, lowered his head, and asked softly, “What else did you dream of?”

Ming Chi composed himself, and his ears turned a little red again.

…He also dreamed that he had brought the other person home.

They had watched the rain together, chatted together, and he had even asked about the work benefits and accommodation on the cruise ship.

Mr. Shadow knew all of this, but of course, he didn’t say it.

That dream had ended in front of his aunt’s grave.

He had pulled Mr. Shadow there and loudly told his aunt that this was the person he liked, the kind of like where he was ready to jump onto the other’s deck with a suitcase.

The kind of like where if he had woken up alone that day and really hadn’t found Mr. Shadow, and couldn’t find him anywhere, he would have temporarily wandered the world with a suitcase and set off to find this person the very next day.

Ming Chi’s throat moved slightly. The hand that had been hidden in his pocket, completely untouched by water, slowly clenched, and his fingers carefully touched the seal on his palm.

—Actually, he had been planning to do just that tonight.

Of course, he wouldn’t really shout it out so boldly, but there was no problem saying it as loudly as he wanted in his heart.

Auntie could definitely hear it too.

Ming Chi suddenly suspected if he had let slip anything else in his dream. He looked up, wanting to ask clearly, but the baseball cap accidentally fell off.

Ming Weiting caught it for him, raised his other hand, and brushed away the hair on his forehead that was wet from the warm rain.

He didn’t move that hand away, gently cupping Ming Chi’s cheek, letting Ming Chi look up so they could see each other’s eyes clearly.

“We have such a tacit understanding. There’s no need to chase.”

Ming Weiting said softly, “Wait until I take you to see the world. Wait until we reach the other side of the world.”

He was always thinking, what a cool lady Madam Ren was, to have raised such a cool ball of fire.

You just have to hug him.

One hug and he’ll burn up hotly, flaring from a small spark into a flame.

If you like someone, you’ll say it bravely. If you can’t bear to part, you’ll immediately chase after them. You always know what to do, and you’re always clear about your own thoughts.

Always so bright.

“When that time comes,” Ming Weiting said, “You just have to close your eyes.”

Ming Chi wanted to speak, but the rain kept falling, and his eyelashes really couldn’t block it. He heard the low, gentle voice beside his ear and subconsciously closed his eyes.

When he closed his eyes, the sounds around him became exceptionally clear.

He heard the sound of the rain all over the sky and earth. The warm rainwater kept falling on their bodies, and also on the deck and the sea surface. The ripples spread farther, as if they could reach all the way to the other side of the sea.

He could hear the breathing and heartbeat right next to him. Their clothes touched, and a warmth warmer than the rainwater came through.

—He heard in his mind what Mr. Shadow was saying.

Such a tacit understanding.

Wait until we reach the other side of the world.

When that time comes, just close your eyes.

Ming Chi heard his own heartbeat. He held the imprint of the seal in his palm, closed his eyes and looked up, and said softly, “Mister.”

Ming Weiting, along with the warm rain, lowered his head and kissed his brow.