It was the first time Ming Chi had discovered that the cemetery’s night view was actually beautiful.

Of course, not within the grounds themselves—it was solemn and quiet there. From the outside, it looked more like an ornamental garden, and while it didn’t feel oppressive at night, an empty silence was still unavoidable.

Ming Chi remembered a good spot. He led Mr. Shadow around in a few circles, ending up on a semi-sloped hill behind the mountain.

There was a patch of very soft grass there. Lying down, you could see the scenery of the city below.

Ming Chi was so familiar with this path that his legs recognized it on their own. Even his sometimes-unreliable sense of direction didn’t act up. He greeted the trees he touched along the way and smoothly found his secret base.

Ming Chi spread his arms, lay down contentedly, and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

A slight rustling sound came from beside him, and a warmth approached in the cool night breeze.

He opened his eyes and found that Mr. Shadow had also taken off his jacket, folded it to the side, and was mimicking his actions by lying down.

“Very comfortable,” Mr. Ming gave his feedback. “The fragrance is very special.”

They were indeed enveloped in a faint scent of grass and trees. Ming Chi pillowed his head on his arm and adjusted to the most comfortable position. “We won’t get bitten by mosquitoes.”

This type of grass was easy to grow. Although it withered and regrew annually, as long as it was maintained, new grass would grow back on its own the following year.

Ming Chi had planted it during his school years. The coursework wasn’t heavy, and the school didn’t confine students to practicing in the art studio, so he would bring his easel and drawing board here.

If someone could jump up to the sky and look down, they would find that this small hillside was directly behind the grave. Ming Chi had specifically scouted it several times before choosing this location.

“But I didn’t stay overnight back then,” Ming Chi thought for a moment. “I would go down the mountain before dark.”

It was a cemetery, after all. And this spot wasn’t entirely within the grounds; it could be considered remote.

If one accidentally stayed too long, they would either scare the night patrol staff or be scared by them.

Today, the gravedigger had made a special exception. Knowing that he wouldn’t be coming back often, he said he wouldn’t be disturbed and let him and the gentleman who came with him stay a little longer.

Ming Weiting seemed to have a fixation on being a pillow for the little mister. He moved Ming Chi’s own arm from under his head and offered his shoulder for him to rest on, chatting with him. “Where did you live back then?”

“Mostly in the dorms,” Ming Chi deduced from the letters he had left himself. “No roommates, it should have been a single room.”

Both the school and he himself had concerns, and the school happened to have single rooms available. He wasn’t of age yet back then, and the procedures for renting an apartment outside were troublesome, so it was a very suitable choice.

The fact that he would have an extreme reaction upon waking was initially a side effect of the kidnapping incident. In the following three years, it had actually been mostly corrected, and he no longer lost control so severely.

Unfortunately, there were some unpleasant experiences later. Falling asleep became difficult, his sleep quality wasn’t good, the time he was trapped in dreams grew longer, and those dreams became more and more oppressive.

Being able to live alone, not having to worry about accidentally hurting someone upon waking, not worrying about disturbing others’ rest with his nightmares, and being able to turn on the lights and draw all night when he couldn’t sleep… for him at that time, it was truly a relief.

“A miscalculation,” Ming Chi thought for a moment and wrung his hands. “I should have been more cheerful back then and made a few friends.”

He rolled over, grabbed Mr. Shadow’s other hand, and pressed it on top of his head. “How could I have been so uncool?”

“You tried your best.”

Ming Weiting ruffled his hair. “Someone was constantly obstructing, not letting others be friends with you.”

Ming Chi was stunned for a moment and didn’t speak immediately, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

He seemed to be thinking about many things, and yet he also seemed to be just in a daze, not thinking about anything in particular.

They lay face to face on the grass like this. Ming Weiting’s hand that was ruffling his hair also came to rest on his back, quietly accompanying him as he sorted through the thoughts hidden in the fragments of memory.

Ming Chi finally commented, “How boring.”

He quickly deduced the correct conclusion. “If it weren’t for this person, I would have had a ton of friends.”

“A great many.”

Ming Weiting nodded, helping him add, “You’d have to make an appointment a week in advance to hang out with you, schedule it on a calendar, no cutting in line.”

…

Well, it wasn’t that exaggerated.

Ming Chi coughed. Just as he was about to be modest, he heard Mr. Shadow suddenly say, “This is not good.”

Ming Chi immediately propped himself up on his arms. “What’s wrong?”

He thought another staff member had come over. He scanned the area but heard no footsteps, nor did he see the beam of a flashlight.

Ming Chi retracted his gaze and looked down at Mr. Shadow.

“In the future, the little mister will have a ton of friends,” Mr. Shadow’s expression was very serious, as if he were genuinely considering this matter. “One will have to make an appointment in advance to play with the little mister.”

Ming Chi was stunned for several seconds before he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

He had used his cane for too long yesterday and had rested it for a day today. It was originally almost better, but now, having propped up half his body with his right hand for so long, his concentration lapsed, and it involuntarily went weak again.

Mr. Shadow promptly reached out and caught him steadily. “What to do.”

Without any suspense, Ming Chi fell back into Mr. Shadow’s arms and was tapped lightly on the head.

Some black-hearted creditors.

They would usually swindle over a hundred drawings from someone, but at this time, they were surprisingly playing by the rules.

They even knew to make an appointment in advance and not to cut in line.

“What to do?” Ming Chi decided to be childish along with him. “Mr. Ming also has a ton of work. One also has to make an appointment to play with Mr. Ming.”

“Give me your schedule.”

Mr. Ming proposed a solution to the problem. “I’ll work when it’s not my turn.”

Ming Chi laughed so hard he coughed a little. “That’s a good idea.”

One could tell it was Mr. Ming’s style.

In the future, every night before bed, the two of them would sit together in the chair at the desk, facing the schedule under the lamplight.

Today is suitable for work, tomorrow is suitable for going out, the day after tomorrow is suitable for staying home and sleeping.

The evening wind grew slightly cooler. Ming Chi held Mr. Shadow’s hand, and they put their hands together into his own pocket.

Ming Chi actually wasn’t that much of a party person.

He liked freedom, liked an unrestrained life, but he also liked the fulfillment of having goals, liked skills that could be mastered with constant effort and practice.

He actually had his own plans. After systematically receiving training for piloting a ship, he also planned to learn more things. If conditions allowed, he even wanted to get a private pilot’s license.

Of course, he couldn’t really just abandon the company’s affairs. He indeed had no intention of being an artist again, but he was prepared to find time to re-record those few songs properly and write some pieces suitable for the style of the young guitarists.

He liked to draw, and he had majored in it in university. Although he had no plans to sell his paintings for the time being, the invitation to a painting exhibition that Uncle Lu had helped pass on to him before he left, from the group’s founder, did indeed tempt him a little.

…

He also wanted to save money.

Of course, it wasn’t for a sense of security. Ming Chi could always survive no matter what; there was a way to live with just a few dozen yuan. The pre-surgery Ming Chi had apologized to his future self in his letters. There was a period of time when he always didn’t want too many things to remain with him, things he hadn’t had time to give away.

At that time, it was because he didn’t want anything to be delayed with him, not having time to handle it personally.

He didn’t want to wait for the day when things had to be distributed to others according to kinship inheritance.

Now, he didn’t have to think about this at all, so he no longer had any worries.

Ming Chi secretly raised his hand and pressed the precious glass pendant hidden under his shirt.

He suddenly had the motivation to save money because he wanted to give Mr. Shadow a gift.

The pendant was so beautiful.

So good, he liked it so much.

He was so looking forward to this trip because this trip included his aunt and Mr. Shadow.

…However, there was no need to say these things out loud. It was enough to just do them one by one.

Ming Chi smiled. “It’s not that troublesome.”

He held Ming Weiting’s hand, which was hidden in his pocket along with his own, warmed up. “Here.”

He pressed that hand against his own chest. “There’s a dedicated VIP channel for Mr. Shadow. Direct access, no appointments, no queues.”

Ming Weiting lowered his head and looked at him seriously. “So amazing?”

“So amazing,” Ming Chi nodded, took his hand and gently knocked on his own chest, even providing the sound effects. “Is  Huo Miao home?”

He paused for a moment with a straight face, then answered his own question. “Yes, is that Mr. Shadow?”

Ming Weiting laughed out loud, cleared his throat, and imitated Teacher  Huo Miao’s tone, “Yes, yes.”

“Yes, yes!” Ming Chi pursed his lips, grateful for the enthusiastic participation of the person himself. “I’m ready.”

Ming Weiting was stunned for a moment and asked Teacher  Huo Miao, “Ready for what?”

Teacher  Huo Miao, not being an outsider at all, threw himself into his arms, closed his eyes, and left Mr. Shadow’s arm behind his back.

…

Ming Weiting suddenly knew his answer.

Ready for anything.

Anywhere, anything.

Anytime.

Ming Weiting lowered his head and looked seriously at the person leaning quietly in his arms with his eyes closed.

The night view of the cemetery was very beautiful.

Or rather, the night view of this grassy area was very beautiful. The starry sky was distant and vast, those fine, diamond-like stars scattered across the dark firmament. Looking down, one could see a stretch of buildings and the intertwining lights of bright and dark.

A sky full of stars was not uncommon on any shipping route.

But a myriad of household lights, this was a sight not seen at sea.

“Little mister,” Ming Weiting said softly, “those lights are very beautiful.”

He had probably been thinking for a very long time.

There were no mosquitoes here, only the crisp chirping of insects in the distance. It was very suitable for being lost in thought.

Ming Chi waited in his arms for a long time, unknowingly falling asleep. His body relaxed, and his breathing became calm and slow.

This cathartic release in front of the grave had completely washed away the last lingering effects of the past. Ming Chi’s forehead rested against his shoulder, and his expression in his sleep was also relaxed and peaceful.

Ming Weiting moved gently and sat up with him in his arms.

Ming Chi opened his eyes. Seeing it was him, he closed them again and curled up, looking like he had no intention of waking up at all.

Ming Weiting tucked his arm back in, took the suit jacket that was folded on the side, and covered him with it.

The fact that Ming Chi was a light sleeper probably still needed time to recover. Sensing him stand up, he struggled out of his sleepiness again and opened one eye.

Ming Weiting reported to the little mister, “We’re going home.”

Ming Chi, putting himself in others’ shoes, was still very concerned about Mr. Shadow. “Do you know the way?”

“I do,” Ming Weiting smiled and ruffled his head. “Welcome aboard the new line, a direct route from the secret base to the cruise ship, with a stop at the Seaview Villa in between.”

Ming Chi was very comfortable being ruffled by Mr. Tour Car. He fiddled with the tour car’s shirt button and entered the destination, “To the cruise ship with Mr. Shadow.”

He always reviewed the day’s events before sleeping. His mind was stuck on the previous conversation. After a moment, he found that he did indeed have a schedule. “Mr. Shadow, Sister Zhao Lan has asked me to dinner tomorrow.”

“I know,” Ming Weiting nodded, carrying him as he slowly walked down the mountain. “We saw the message together.”

Actually, Zhao Lan hadn’t wanted to contact him so urgently. It was just that the filming of the documentary was finished and it was about to enter the post-production process, which required final content confirmation with the person involved.

According to Ming Chi’s thoughts, the documentary belonged to the past Luo Zhi. The crew could completely follow the previous handling plan and didn’t need to specifically ask for his opinion.

But Director Gong was more considerate. She didn’t want anything in it that could affect Ming Chi’s future life. The subjects of many documentaries are discussed and followed for a considerable period of time. Sometimes an inconspicuous detail can be dug up, bringing unexpected interference to an originally peaceful life.

In addition, to ensure objectivity during the editing phase of the documentary and not to mix in too much personal emotion, it was not convenient for Director Gong to meet him. So in the end, this matter was handed over to Zhao Lan.

This was also the end of her work this time, the last task as Director Gong’s short-term assistant.

Zhao Lan managed to contact Ming Chi through Fang Hang. When she called later, she still felt it was abrupt and apologetic. “Little brother, if you’re not comfortable, then don’t come.”

“I’ll have them send the sample cut and the outline to you. You can review it and let me know,” Zhao Lan instructed him. “You are more important. If you’re not comfortable, don’t come.”

When he received the call, Ming Chi was sitting next to Ming Weiting. They had prepared to go to the cemetery that evening and were having dinner together on the deck.

The seabirds here were not as fierce as in some other places; they were gentle and friendly to people. Seeing someone dining, they would circle and land on the ship’s rail. The bolder ones would jump onto the table to peck at the bread.

Ming Chi gave his reply. His hand was held by Mr. Shadow. They watched together as the seabird pecked away the bread crumbs bit by bit.

Ming Chi had agreed to meet.

They had agreed back then that when they met again, they must have a meal together.

He would definitely go to something he had agreed to.

“Sister Zhao Lan said,” Ming Chi was half-asleep from sleepiness. He thought for a moment, “She’s going with her husband.”

Ming Weiting nodded. “What a coincidence.”

…On this kind of matter, he reacted very quickly even when half-asleep.

Ming Chi quickly understood the meaning of these three words. He buried his steaming face in the jacket. After a while, he couldn’t help but feel happy himself and whispered along, “What a coincidence.”

Mr. Shadow’s sense of direction was indeed very good. They smoothly found the way out, even faster than when Ming Chi had found his way in.

Just as they were about to round the hillside, Ming Weiting suddenly stopped and looked down at him. “Little mister.”

His voice was very light and low, sounding even softer than usual in the night wind.

Ming Chi was busy getting hot over the phrase “going with his mister.” Being addressed like this gave him another jolt of heat. He looked up, then suddenly froze.

From their current angle, the view was the most expansive. One could see the outlines of a stretch of buildings at the foot of the mountain, dotted with lights of cold or warm, bright or dim hues.

Behind every light, there was a home.

Myriad lights of a thousand homes.

Ming Chi vaguely remembered that he seemed to have stood here and looked at this before—probably once when he had accidentally run into a staff member on patrol, scaring the other person while being thoroughly scared himself.

The specific details of these events were too blurry. Only a part of the image remained in his visual memory. He remembered seeing such lights, seeing such clusters of buildings.

But this was the first time he suddenly felt they were very beautiful.

It was the first time he felt they were beautiful, so beautiful that he couldn’t help but feel a little moved again. At some point, the goal of saving money had suddenly taken a big leap forward.

Or maybe he could be a bit more prolific. Write a few more songs, contact the comic column he had worked with before, be a bit more dedicated and diligent, read a few more scripts…

“The Seaview Villa is suitable for recuperation and vacation, but not for living in winter. Over time, it will affect the joints.”

Ming Weiting thought for a moment, then continued, “I heard from Uncle Lu that buildings on shore have floor heating, which is very comfortable.”

Ming Chi looked up, a little surprised, then laughed and closed his eyes, resting his head on Ming Weiting’s neck.

…How could they be so in sync?

How could he be so happy?

“Those lights are very beautiful.”

Mr. Shadow looked down at him and touched his eyelashes. “When we finish our travels.”

Ming Weiting didn’t immediately continue.

He thought of the teenage Luo Chi, who had left the Seaview Villa and lived alone in a single dorm room, waiting for himself to grow up.

The nineteen-year-old Luo Chi accidentally became Young Master Luo and, after everyone had left work, lay alone on the sofa in the company office.

Now was the time.

Ming Weiting said, “I think—”

“I think so too,” the grown-up Flame said quite steadily. “I’m waiting.”

Ming Weiting paused for a moment.

He sensed Ming Chi’s movement, put him down steadily on the ground, still letting him wear the jacket. “Waiting?”

“Waiting. I’ll find a way,” Ming Chi pursed his lips, putting on a bit of a conqueror’s air, but the words he said were at least calm. “Among these lights… one of them.”

Ming Weiting suddenly laughed out loud, and Ming Chi couldn’t help but laugh too. The two of them laughed for a long time for no reason like this, quite childishly. Finally, Ming Chi took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and looked up.

Ming Chi looked up, his expression suddenly becoming steady and solemn.

Ming Weiting looked into his eyes.

He suddenly remembered that day on the beach, when the managers mentioned how their President Ming would go about inviting those somewhat sought-after artists, how he negotiated gambling contracts, how he dared to promise better resources.

It wasn’t just because of Madam Ren’s legacy, not just because he had been taken by Madam Ren to meet elders in the past and had those connections, deep or shallow.

Luo Zhi’s condition was not good at that time, and those people could more or less see it—even if they couldn’t see it, they could guess.

It was not uncommon for someone of that age to take over the family business and stand on their own. But anyone with a little inside information knew how the Luo family and the Ren family treated this young man.

Any person growing up alone in such a life would not be in a good state. The fact that Luo Zhi could stand up for that almost bankrupt film and television company, could lead a group of equally scattered subordinates to find resources and negotiate gambling contracts, already surprised them.

But as long as you were willing to talk to him, to sit face to face with that young man for a while.

As long as you were willing to not be influenced by that heir of the Ren family, not to be affected by those prejudices and rumors, to listen seriously to what he had to say, to give him a little time to speak his mind clearly.

In the first year, although the enterprises and resources that cooperated with Huaisheng Entertainment were not many, they were actually quite solid and stable.

“There’s no explaining it. you just have to look into his eyes,” Kuang Li said. “Look into his eyes, and you’ll know he won’t lie to you.”

Fang Hang took two swigs of beer and added with a smile, “And he really won’t lie to you.”

Their General Manager was just that kind of person. Ming Chi didn’t like to talk, nor did he like to make empty promises rashly. But as long as it was something he had promised, he would definitely do it.

Except to himself, Ming Chi would not break a promise to anyone.

Now it included himself—he would no longer break a promise to himself. Ming Chi stood in the night wind. Behind him were the myriad lights of a thousand homes. His eyes were brighter than the lights and the stars. It was an unusually calm, absolutely unbreakable clarity.

“Among these lights.”

Ming Chi said, “There will be one for us.”

“Mister,” Ming Chi gave him his hand. “Wait for me to lead you home.”

__

Author’s Note:
Zhao Lan: Dinner tomorrow, I’m going with my husband.
Huo Miao: Dinner tomorrow, I’m going with my mister.