The second day of the World Internet Conference quickly drew to a close as well.

That evening, Jing Hong did not attend the private dinner hosted by the CEO of “Weilai,” choosing instead to fly directly back to Beijing on a commercial flight—and Zhou Chang did the exact same thing.

After returning to Beijing, the two occasionally bumped into each other or crossed paths in business skirmishes. First came Fanhai forcing its way into Qinghui’s exclusive deal with the community group-buying app “Suigou” by leveraging a stellar CTO candidate, and then Qinghui retaliated by crashing Fanhai’s bid for “Xindong Media” out of nowhere—a move Zhou Chang casually dismissed to a mutual friend as “like beating a kid on a rainy day—doing it just because I’ve got time to kill.”

Now, after dinner, Jing Hong’s two friends left early, as he had a very important event scheduled for the next day—the Fanhai AI Developer Conference.

Held annually since 2016, this year’s conference took place at the China National Convention Center in Beijing, featuring a main forum and several sub-forums. Over 5,000 AI developers attended in person, while more than 100,000 joined online to interact.

Jing Hong was set to introduce several new products in detail during the main forum.

Whether his friends stayed late or left early made little difference to him. He knew his speech by heart, and the PPT would be projected on screen anyway. Being intimately familiar with every aspect of the products—as a CEO who truly understood technology—preparing the script posed no challenge at all. Pacing and delivery had always been his strong suits; after countless speeches, he no longer needed to rehearse nervously until the last second before stepping onto the stage. Once he felt ready, he was ready.

The following morning, the Fanhai Group AI Developer Conference officially opened.

The stage utilized holographic projections to create a series of stunning environments.

The first product Jing Hong introduced was a new generation of autonomous driving. Standing on a glowing central point, he was surrounded by holographic projections of interconnected skyscrapers and roads.

Speaking at a measured, unhurried pace, Jing Hong wore a black dress shirt and matching trousers. His movements were impeccably poised—sometimes standing in place, sometimes taking a few steps, sometimes gesturing with both hands, and at other times casually resting one hand in his pocket. “The next-generation autonomous driving system utilizes GMSL2 cameras based on Jetson AGX Xavier, an IP65 protection rating, and microsecond-level sensor data synchronization… At the edge computing level—”

Midway through his explanation, Jing Hong casually raised his head and glanced toward the back entrance of the auditorium.

In an extremely rare occurrence, he momentarily froze for a full second!

Pausing briefly, Jing Hong picked up seamlessly: “…and has already completed 5 million kilometers of road testing.”

As he spoke, he stole another glance toward the rear door.

He hadn’t misseen.

The man standing at the back entrance was indeed Zhou Chang.

Zhou Chang had actually come in person to attend Fanhai’s AI Developer Conference.

Zhou Chang always possessed a distinct, imposing presence. Even while standing silently at the very back with both hands tucked into his trousers pockets, quietly watching the product demonstration, his authority was unmistakable.

Surprised as he was, Jing Hong wasn’t entirely shocked.

Qinghui would naturally keep a close eye on Fanhai’s product launches to monitor their latest moves. Tickets to the Fanhai AI Developer Conference were sold publicly, and it was a major industry event. Since live camera feeds could be incomplete and PPT text might be blurred, Qinghui representatives attended every year—he just hadn’t expected their rival boss to show up in person this time.

Does he place this much importance on Fanhai Group?

Jing Hong felt as though Zhou Chang smiled slightly, but the distance was too great for him to see clearly.

Following the autonomous driving demonstration, Jing Hong moved on to present Fanhai’s new generation AI Open Platform. Concluding his presentation, he stated: “Currently, Fanhai’s AI Open Platform provides 155 AI capabilities, spanning data mining, natural language processing, deep learning, and more… Numerous products have already integrated Fanhai’s AI Open Platform, including partners in the United States… the United Kingdom… and, of course, China. Fanhai looks forward to continuing to empower our partners and developers to jointly build an AI ecosystem, accelerate AI implementation, and drive daily convenience.”

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience once more.

A brief intermission followed before the final two product unveilings. Jing Hong spent a few minutes in the VIP lounge, waiting for the main auditorium to refill and settle down before heading back out.

Stepping out of the VIP lounge, Jing Hong found his younger cousin waiting for him.

The surrounding hallway was spacious and quiet, located quite a distance from the main auditorium.

She was also studying computer science and dropped by the Fanhai AI Developer Conference every year to check things out.

Jing Hong actually enjoyed chatting with her, as she represented the classic 16-to-22 female demographic. At one point, Jing Hong had felt quite anxious about his lack of insight into this age group, considering they formed one of the most critical consumer demographics on the internet.

Back then, after every conversation with her, listening to her talk about her peers’ lifestyles and mindset, Jing Hong had walked away with valuable insights. For an internet industry CEO, “not understanding young women aged 16 to 22” could prove fatal.

Stopping in his tracks, Jing Hong asked: “Waiting for me?”

“Yup!” She pulled a tube of red lip stain from her pocket and said, “Brother, the background colors for Fanhai’s launch are all tech-themed—dark blues, silver greys… Standing on stage just now made your complexion look terribly washed out, like your face was totally cold and grey. It looked that way on the live stream too—I checked.”

Jing Hong frowned: “???”

Looking like an expert, his cousin glanced around and raised the lip stain: “Just a tiny dab, rubbed out with a finger. Nobody will even notice, especially from so far away, but it’ll make your complexion look way better. Male celebrities do this all the time for performances and live streams.”

Jing Hong was caught off guard, and before he could react, his cousin tapped the tip of the applicator against his lower lip, adding, “Don’t worry, it’s brand new.” Jing Hong immediately grabbed her wrist to stop her.

The applicator dragged across his lower lip, leaving a vertical streak right down the middle.

Just as Jing Hong opened his mouth to say something, a voice called out: “President Jing?”

Instinctively looking over, Jing Hong found himself face-to-face with Zhou Chang once again. Evidently, Zhou Chang had also just stepped out of a lounge.

Catching sight of the bright red streak right down the center of Jing Hong’s lower lip, Zhou Chang froze for a split second. Though his expression remained entirely impassive, his eyes locked onto him for a brief moment.

Jing Hong had fair skin, slightly upturned phoenix eyes, a high nose bridge, and full, sculpted lips featuring a distinct labial tubercle and defined cupid’s bow. His lower lip was plump with a noticeable central groove, typically pale in color—yet right now, that central crease was marked by a vibrant stroke of crimson.

Because his eyes could easily show a bit of white under the iris, Jing Hong’s face normally carried a cool, distant look; yet right now, it exuded a strangely captivating, romantic allure.

It created a curiously surreal contrast.

“…President Zhou.” Since things had come to this, Jing Hong didn’t bother trying to cover it up and introduced: “This is my cousin, Jing Yu.” As he spoke, his lips parted and closed, the vibrant crimson streak on his lower lip drawing the eye involuntarily.

Slightly flustered, Jing Yu stammered: “Uh, I just thought the venue lights were too dim and made my brother look a bit pale…”

Zhou Chang gave a polite nod, his eyes sweeping over Jing Hong’s lower lip once more.

Jing Hong met his gaze.

An open window nearby allowed the warm spring sunlight to pour through, coating everything like liquid gold. A plane tree stood in the courtyard, and as a breeze blew past, a leaf detached itself like a disoriented butterfly, landing softly on Jing Hong’s shoulder.

Deep down the hallway of the convention center hung a traditional calligraphy work that read:

【Herbs and trees flourish; the spring mountains offer hope.】

Brushing the leaf off his shoulder, Jing Hong asked Jing Yu: “Do you have any tissues?”

Evidently, he had no intention of wearing this lip stain or looking “fresher” on stage.

“Uh,” Jing Yu patted her pockets, realizing they were empty, “They’re in the auditorium… I didn’t bring any out…”

Jing Hong: “…”

He tried to recall whether there were tissues in the lounge he had just left, but couldn’t quite remember.

At that moment, Zhou Chang unhurriedly unfastened his tie and handed it to Jing Hong: “Use this.”

Jing Hong hesitated: “This…”

Zhou Chang remained perfectly courteous: “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have to go on stage.”

“Alright, thank you.” Taking Zhou Chang’s tie, Jing Hong didn’t overthink it and used the narrow tip that usually rested against the other man’s abdomen to wipe away the stain on his lower lip.

Zhou Chang was wearing a British three-piece suit today; having left his suit jacket in the lounge, he was currently dressed in just a shirt, vest, and tie. His tie was grey, and rubbing against the lip stain immediately caused a vibrant red smudge to bleed into the fabric.

Handing the tie back to Zhou Chang, Jing Hong thanked him once more: “It’s time. Thank you, President Zhou.”

With that, he cast a cool glance at his cousin.

Jing Yu: “…”

Oh boy, I’ve messed up.

By the time Zhou Chang returned to the main auditorium, the second half of Jing Hong’s presentation had already begun.

The next segment focused on AI applications in aerospace. By now, the holographic projection background had shifted to the dark expanse of deep space populated by countless celestial bodies.

Surrounded by space and planets, Jing Hong stood atop the circular point of light. His voice remained smooth and deliberate: “Fanhai AI has established strategic partnerships with China’s Lunar Exploration Program and Planetary Exploration Program. Moving forward, Fanhai AI will operate deep underground and emulate human cognition—independently scouting planetary regions, analyzing soil data, and plotting optimal paths toward areas with a high probability of containing water ice and other resources. This approach will dramatically enhance exploration efficiency and save time, representing a fundamental leap beyond traditional probes that can only navigate pre-programmed routes and transmit fixed categories of data. Fanhai hopes to—”

Once his presentation concluded, a renowned academician—a cosmochemist, geochemist, the inaugural chief scientist of China’s Lunar Exploration Program, and a member of the Chinese Academy of Sciences—stepped out from behind the stage. The latter half of this session would take the form of an armchair dialogue between the two.

Standing outside the entrance doors, Zhou Chang quietly observed Jing Hong’s profile on the main stage.

This time, however, Zhou Chang didn’t keep both hands tucked into his pockets as before—instead, his tie was loosely wrapped twice around his right palm. He held it casually, the tip dangling in midair, stained with that touch of red.

Watching Jing Hong explain lunar exploration AI amidst the “universe,” gesturing smoothly with natural poise and effortless composure, Zhou Chang’s mind flashed back through their history—the time he had forced Jing Hong to relinquish Med-Ferry’s AI drug discovery arm, the move where Jing Hong maneuvered him into accepting Fanhai as a co-investor in “Suigou,” their encounters during the World Internet Conference at the Bailian Pagoda, the Fengyuan Double Bridge, and the art museum… and finally, that brief moment just now with the vivid red smudge resting between his lips.

Once again, an intense desire surfaced: he wanted to beat him, and he wanted to conquer him.

He had always wanted to—after all, Fanhai and Qinghui were the two leading powerhouses in the tech industry, and Jing Hong was an exceptionally brilliant rival, the likes of which came along once in a lifetime.

But now, Zhou Chang wanted it even more.

He wanted to throw him off balance, make him lose his composure, and leave him consumed by his name—turning and tossing through long, restless nights.