The cruise ship would have stunning fireworks displays from time to time.

They were held on clear, windless nights when the water’s surface was calm, the view was at its best, and the sea was at its most tranquil and vast.

The fireworks would burst open in the night sky, their myriad colors reflecting on the water, filling the field of vision with a brilliant and fiery spectacle in an instant, making one momentarily doubt whether they were in reality or a dream.

Fireworks are fleeting. The little mister, who was slowly paying off his debt, had set up his easel on the balcony, always wanting to find the most suitable opportunity to capture that brief moment.

But in the end, when he put his brush to this painting, it turned out to be slightly different from what he had planned.

…

Xun Zhen came to do a follow-up visit with Ming Chi and was quite curious about this new, half-finished painting. Before leaving, he secretly asked Butler Ming, “Is he painting the fireworks display?”

As the first friend to get a hug from Captain Ming, Dean Xun had gotten his wish and secured a ticket.

Unfortunately, the timing was off. He ran into several mandatory domestic and international seminars and was only able to get away after a week’s delay, rushing to board the ship at a nearby port.

A question like this should have originally been asked of Ming Chi himself.

Ming Chi was the kind of post-operative patient who saved the team a lot of trouble—he wouldn’t deliberately hide his condition, attended regular check-ups, and proactively cooperated with follow-up visits. His recovery speed was also quite surprising.

If not for his tendency to overdo it during rehabilitation and always forgetting to rest and relax, his performance would have been worthy of being a model example in the department.

So, of course, it wasn’t that Dean Xun’s visit was unwelcome.

It was just that the living room was too quiet, the atmosphere too unsuitable for interruption, and even more unsuitable for lingering.

Xun Zhen checked the assessment scale, signed it with satisfaction, folded it, and put it away. He couldn’t help but recall the scene he had just witnessed.

In truth, there was nothing particularly special.

It was just that Mr. Ming had finished his work and was accompanying his little mister as he painted. When Xun Zhen came for the follow-up, the two of them had stopped together to entertain him. Ming Chi had even made him tea.

Described this way, it did indeed sound quite ordinary and plain.

…

But if one had been sitting on that sofa at that moment, waiting for the light steam and the fragrance of tea to rise, watching Ming Chi intently skim the foam from the tea and pour it into cups, and then watching Mr. Ming intently watch Ming Chi pour the tea, one would have spontaneously felt that the third person in this space was quite superfluous.

In that room, due to work reasons and not having had the time to bring his wife on board, Dean Xun had downed three cups of tea, looked around at the scenery outside the balcony, and admired the unfinished painting for a long time.

Finally, when Ming Chi had finished filling out the assessment, Xun Zhen proactively grabbed it, bid his farewell, and left, thoughtfully helping to close the door on his way out.

…

Xun Zhen came back to his senses, saw Ming Lu’s questioning look, and reacted, “There’s no problem with the painting.”

“Judging from the changes in his previous style, composition, and color, his condition is very stable.”

Xun Zhen, combining the results from Ming Chi’s answers, analyzed it purely from a psychological perspective. “He probably won’t need to do these assessments so often in the future.”

Ming Lu nodded and answered his earlier question, “It’s not the fireworks show.”

“No wonder,” Xun Zhen’s last doubt was resolved, but he couldn’t help but be curious. “Then what is it?”

The day Xun Zhen boarded the ship happened to coincide with a fireworks show. He was deeply impressed by the dazzling and brilliant display.

The atmosphere of the performance was not this quiet. The fireworks had been bustling and vibrant, vying to fill the sky. Half the sky was lit up, and the cruise ship’s white hull was reflected in a myriad of colors.

Ming Lu put down what he was doing and looked him over.

Xun Zhen was startled and looked down to check his clothes, finding nothing wrong. “Butler Ming?”

“Dean Xun,” Ming Lu took a chair. “Sit.”

The butler had checked the schedule, took out his pocket watch to check the time, and put it back in his pocket. “To explain this, it might take a while.”

…

The story began at the port where Xun Zhen had boarded the ship.

The ship had sailed for a week and docked at a fixed port of call on its route for passengers to embark and disembark.

Xun Zhen was not the only one who boarded at that port; there was also a car.

A car of the same model, from the same production line, and manufactured in the same period as the one Madam Ren had given him back then. A limited-edition collector’s car with completely identical specifications.

“This model is highly sought after. Madam Ren had placed the order through us back then.”

The heir to that multinational jewelry group came to deliver the car and explained to Ming Lu, “I thought it looked good at the time and ordered one for myself. I’ve just been collecting it all these years and haven’t driven it yet.”

He had business to discuss this time and was not traveling on the ship, but the place where he was discussing business happened to be not far from here, so he brought the car over.

With him was the elderly founder of the group.

The old gentleman was nearly ninety but still in good health. For the past two years, he had been traveling the world with a few friends of different generations to gather inspiration, and he happened to be here to see the sea.

“I didn’t tell the old master about those things,” the heir said to Ming Lu. “Hearing that the young man was here, the old master wanted to meet him, have dinner, and chat.”

“As it happens, the old master said that the inspiration for his last design came from the young man’s painting.”

The heir smiled. “According to the rules of our trade, it’s either remuneration or a share of the profits. He has to discuss it with him personally.”

Ming Chi, having heard about the dinner from Uncle Lu, took a blanket to the study and napped with his mister for the afternoon.

Before dinner, Ming Chi specifically took another hot shower. Without his cane, he followed Uncle Lu off the ship to the designated restaurant.

The old gentleman indeed didn’t know about those things.

He was already quite old, long past the age of worrying about social obligations. He had already handed over the business to the younger generation, only occasionally personally handling a design or two for a jewelry collection.

This time, the design was related to a newly discovered diamond mine. That mining area had produced many pigeon’s blood grade rubies. The color was pure and the saturation intense, and the overall quality was quite high.

The old gentleman was mulling over design plans when he happened to receive the painting “Sunset” sent from the Ming family, and was immediately inspired.

During the entire dinner, they mostly talked about color-related inspiration. The old gentleman and his friends discussed for a while longer, proposed several new design ideas, and asked Ming Chi about them one by one.

Ming Chi grasped things quite quickly. After hearing the explanation, he immediately got the hang of it. When asked for his own opinion, he also tried to speak his mind as he thought.

He didn’t have a deep understanding of design, after all, so his opinions were inevitably not professional enough. But precisely because he wasn’t constrained by conventional thinking, the seniors were quite pleasantly surprised and chatted with him for the entire evening.

The meal lasted until the moon had begun to set in the west. The friends had not yet had their fill of conversation but were shooed away one by one by the old gentleman with his cane, leaving the young man alone for a few more words.

The old gentleman said he wanted to see the sea. Ming Chi supported him to the terrace and was suddenly held by the wrist by that aged hand.

…

The moonlight was waning. The old gentleman’s gaze was still sharp and bright as he looked at the young man before him.

After Ren Shuangmei passed away, the child she would bring to parties for tea, the child she would support by the back and gently push forward to chat, had also disappeared from their sight.

In a flash, ten years had passed.

In the eyes of the elderly, ten years was actually not that long. After all, in the grand scheme of a whole life, it was just a small segment, neither too long nor too short.

But old people easily become nostalgic, just like this dinner today that Ming Chi was invited to.

The friends who came to see Ming Chi today had also sat at the table back then, half-jokingly testing the child with all sorts of questions, and were quite surprised and appreciative of his far-beyond-expected answers.

The friends were still the same friends, with different ages and hobbies, who would get together for a period of time when the mood struck.

This child also seemed to be the same as back then, not having picked up any unpleasant traits in these ten years. He was still as pure and clear as before, only calmer and more steady than back then.

The only change, it seemed, was the no-longer-present Ren Shuangmei.

“The paintings you sent.”

After a while, the old gentleman finally spoke. “I’ve seen them all. Every one is very good.”

Ming Chi’s eyes lit up slightly.

Over the years, he had maintained correspondence with the old gentleman. Ming Chi would send his paintings, and the old gentleman would write back.

Those letters were all still there, carefully preserved. Ming Chi had re-read every single one. The old gentleman would always give very professional opinions and comments on his paintings.

The founder grandpa was not as strict with him as he was with his students at all. His opening line was always “every one is very good.”

Ming Chi took out a notepad and a fountain pen from his pocket, wanting to take notes, but was stopped by the old gentleman’s hand on his arm.

“We’re not talking about paintings today,” the old gentleman gestured for him to put away his pen. “We’ve already talked about enough paintings, too many.”

The old gentleman said, “Let’s talk about you.”

Ming Chi was about to put away his paper and pen. Hearing this, he was stunned for a moment and paused his action.

“You’re thinking about something,” the old gentleman studied his eyes.

“You’re thinking that the order of the paintings you sent me should be correct, and the change in style is reasonable.”

The old gentleman looked at him. “A talented child encountered some sad things, got through them smoothly, and grew up smoothly.”

“That’s right,” Ming Chi’s eyes curved, and he put the notepad back in his pocket. “Grandpa, I’m doing super well now.”

The old gentleman also smiled.

This sentence was also the same as ten years ago—at that time, he had been very fond of this child’s talent and had wanted to take this child called “Huo Miao” away from Ren Shuangmei.

Since this child was distant from his relatives, he could board at his home, learn design from him, study and live abroad, and become a designer in the future.

He had noticed that the little boy was interested in toy cars, so he had told him that he had a garage full of collected cars that he could play with, and that life would be super good if he came to live with him.

At that time, not only did Ren Shuangmei disagree, hugging the little boy and refusing to let go, but the little boy himself also absolutely disagreed.

The little boy had bowed respectfully and thanked him, then tried hard to open his eyes wide with a serious expression and looked at him intently.

“Grandpa,” the little boy had clutched Ren Shuangmei’s clothes tightly, stood up straight with his chest out, incredibly proud. “I’m already doing super well now. I’m the luckiest person in the world.”

The old gentleman, just like back then, raised his hand and slowly ruffled the little boy’s head.

“You’ve already grown up, have the ability to live a good life for yourself, and no longer need to be protected and taken care of.”

The old gentleman said, “There is no doubt about this point, of course.”

He spoke slowly. Seeing the same little pride in the young man’s eyes, he couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head lightly.

“I heard that the car Shuangmei gave you broke.”

The old gentleman asked softly, “How did it get broken?”

Ming Chi came back to his senses, lowered his gaze, and thought seriously for a moment.

He actually couldn’t remember this matter, but connecting the cause and effect, plus the pictures saved on his phone, he could probably guess. “I didn’t protect it well.”

“I should have protected it,” Ming Chi said. “I—”

The old gentleman slowly shook his head. “Nothing is more important than a person.”

“Shuangmei actually left another car for you back then,” the old gentleman said. “You know, she had ordered the cars through us at that time. She ordered two together, precisely to guard against this kind of thing.”

Ming Chi was stunned for a moment.

He looked at the old gentleman seriously, his fingers slowly curling, clenching, and then he pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s unlikely.”

Auntie wouldn’t have specifically left a second car for him.

Because if there were no accidents, he would never have let the first car get broken.

As for the accidents that happened later, they were so sudden and unpredictable that even Auntie couldn’t have possibly imagined them back then.

“Was it that Uncle ordered another car back then?” Ming Chi thought for a moment and immediately guessed what had happened. “Grandpa, may I ask—”

He knew this request was a bit presumptuous. But that car was a limited edition, most of which were bought for collection right after production, and it was never reproduced later. It was very difficult to buy one again even at a higher price.

“May I ask… does Uncle drive it often?”

Ming Chi took a deep breath. He had never asked anyone for such a thing, and now he was almost flustered. “I—”

The old gentleman looked at him quietly for a while. Seeing that he still couldn’t say the words, he sighed.

The old gentleman beckoned, signaling for Ming Chi to come to the front of the terrace.

“The source of inspiration for the last design was your painting ‘Sunset’. You should be given a share of the profits or remuneration.”

The old gentleman proactively brought up this matter and then asked in a gentle voice, “What do you want?”

Ming Chi was stunned for a moment and shook his head. “Grandpa is my teacher.”

“I don’t want anything.”

The old gentleman nodded and held his wrist. “A fabricated consolation, I can see right through it.”

“You want to buy that car with your own money, but you don’t know how to say it, don’t know how to ask.”

“I remember, Shuangmei put a lot of effort into correcting you on this point.”

The old gentleman walked to the railing of the terrace. “The things you want, you can ask for them.”

Ming Chi was pulled over by him and also reflected on himself, feeling that on this point, he was indeed much worse than his thirteen-year-old self.

He decided to be bold. He took a deep breath and was about to speak when his gaze swept across the parking lot below the terrace, and he suddenly froze.

Ming Chi turned, his eyes uncontrollably scrutinizing the parking lot outside the window, then turned back to look at his grandpa.

“Shuangmei put a lot of effort into correcting you on this point.”

The old gentleman said, “You are the most obedient child I have ever seen. You wouldn’t forget what she taught you for no reason. You wouldn’t fail to meet her expectations for so many years.”

“So when I first saw you today, I was thinking.”

The old gentleman’s other hand took the car keys out of his pocket and placed them in Ming Chi’s hand. “This little friend, when he was growing up, the world was not very kind to him.”

Ming Chi held the string of keys.

His chest heaved a few times, his fingers unconsciously tightening, until the keys pressed hard against his palm, and he finally remembered to shake his head.

Ming Chi slowly shook his head. “No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not, Grandpa,” Ming Chi said in a low voice. “I am the luckiest person.”

He held the string of keys tightly and bent down to bow.

“This is your remuneration.”

The old gentleman interrupted before he could say thank you, reminding him, “Remember what Shuangmei taught you.”

Ming Chi forcefully swallowed his words, squeezed the string of keys again, couldn’t help but purse his lips, and his ears turned red.

The old gentleman smiled. “Little friend.”

The little friend’s lips curved up into a smile that wouldn’t fall.

The little friend had already grown very tall. He was no longer held tightly and had his ears ruffled, nor did he have any clothes to tug on, but he still stood up straight with his chest out, proud and tall.

Ming Chi stood ramrod straight. He said softly, “I am the luckiest person.”

He was holding the string of keys so tightly that when he curled his fingers, he accidentally touched the remote button.

Ming Chi was too familiar with this car’s remote. Noticing this, he almost instinctively looked up immediately and quickly walked to the railing to look.

A car exactly the same as the one in his memory was parked not far away.

Parked in a place he could reach in just a few minutes if he ran fast.

The car received the signal, beeped crisply twice, and its headlights suddenly lit up, illuminating a patch of ground in front of it.

…

It was probably some kind of childish illusion that only a child would have.

The pendant hidden under his shirt grew warm, gently touching his chest with his heartbeat, greeting him.

His car flashed its headlights twice in the night, smiling at him.