After arriving at the hotel, Jing Hong realized that neither he nor Zhou Chang had chosen the official hotel. Instead, by coincidence, they had both checked into a different one. The hotel they selected was located at the intersection of the two rivers, boasting an exceptional view. It had only two luxury suites, both on the top floor; Fanhai and Qinghui had each booked one, so their suites were right next to each other.

After sleeping a night at the hotel, Jing Hong left early the next morning to attend the “Smart China Expo.”

Jing Hong actually had a bit of a cold, though it didn’t affect his speech. The air conditioning had been turned up too high last night, and after kicking off his blanket in the middle of the night, he had caught a cold.

He spoke about artificial intelligence, whereas Qinghui placed its focus on “cloud computing.” Zhou Chang stated that Qinghui would build several new submarine cables to increase coverage across continents like Asia and Europe. At the same time, it would construct two new cloud data centers located in Vietnam and Saudi Arabia, respectively, to expand its business footprint.

In the afternoon, Jing Hong focused on inspecting Fanhai Group’s negotiations and uncovered a few issues.

When evening came, for reasons unknown even to himself, Jing Hong took a few senior executives to try “Mountain City No. 1.” Mountain City No. 1 had large private dining rooms, but the sizable entourage walking from the main entrance to the staircase still drew a lot of attention. Two people sitting near the window recognized Jing Hong and pointed at him, exclaiming, “Big boss!!!” “The big boss is here for hot pot!!!”

Jing Hong was actually unbothered. In the past, photos of him taking the subway to restaurants had been posted online; as a businessman rather than a celebrity, he naturally didn’t mind.

The flavor at “Mountain City No. 1” was indeed very good. Jing Hong had originally thought that after so many years of tasting delicacies from land and sea, he would probably be disappointed by the “Chongqing cuisine” of his memories. He hadn’t expected Mountain City No. 1 to surprise him once again.

In that moment, the past and the present were wonderfully connected.

After finishing the hot pot, the other subordinates all dispersed. Tan Qian booked a yacht, and Jing Hong went to experience Chongqing’s “Two Rivers Night Cruise.”

“Where two rivers meet, a city was carved out of the cliffs.” Due to its layered topography, people have loved Chongqing’s night scenery and its tiers of human warmth and bustling life since ancient times. For this view, people used to build observation towers at the highest points; now, they rode ships through the river waters.

The scenery along the river both overlapped with and differed from his memories. Chaotianmen was still Chaotianmen, and the Yangtze River Bridge was still the Yangtze River Bridge, but when he was young, there was no neon-lit Hongyadong, nor was there a central business district lined with high-rises.

The river breeze was lingering, and the heavy river water surged gently. On both banks were stacked layers upon layers of lights from thousands of homes. Those lights cast their glow down onto the river’s surface, gently swaying with the ripples like colors mixed into black ink, making it impossible to distinguish which patch in the water was city lights and which was moonlight or starlight.

It was a rare moment of leisure.

Upon returning to the hotel, Jing Hong took a shower and held a few video meetings with executives who were still in Beijing. Afterward, he planned to go down to the 22nd floor to discuss some of Fanhai’s matters with the executives. On his floor, there were only two presidential suites—the left and the right—while everyone else stayed on the 22nd floor.

Jing Hong usually had dozens of meetings a day. Most had been canceled due to his trip to the Smart China Expo, but a few crucial matters still required his immediate decision.

Jing Hong pressed the button for the “22nd floor” in the elevator. Knowing that Jing Hong might come over, the others from Fanhai Group had already given him a keycard for the 22nd floor.

The elevator arrived quickly, its red numbers jumping rapidly. Then, the elevator doors slid open smoothly. Just as Jing Hong was about to step forward, he realized there was someone inside about to step out, leaving him stunned for a moment—after all, only two people lived on this floor.

Raising his eyelids, he saw that the person opposite him was indeed Zhou Chang.

Zhou Chang had one hand in his pocket while using a few fingers of the other hand to cheekily flip the keycard in his hand.

Upon seeing Jing Hong, his movement of flipping the keycard stopped.

Since they were face-to-face, and having just accepted a favor from him yesterday, Jing Hong politely struck up a conversation: “Back at this hour?”

“Yeah.” Zhou Chang looked at Jing Hong and said, “Went to try ‘Mountain City No. 1’—it was very good. President Jing actually didn’t set me up this time; I almost felt unaccustomed to it.”

“…” Even though he knew Zhou Chang was referring to the competitive relationship between Fanhai and Qinghui, or perhaps subtly hinting at affairs like Med-Ferry or Suigou, Jing Hong still felt Zhou Chang was somewhat out of his mind. Nonetheless, his words remained polite as he said, “We were there too, likely ahead of Qinghui.”

“Chongqing’s Two Rivers Night Cruise—” Zhou Chang added, “I went to that as well. It was also very good.”

Jing Hong’s eyelids twitched, and he said, “Likewise. We were probably ahead of Qinghui there as well. Maybe because we talked about our childhood trip on the plane, I wanted to find and revisit the beautiful memories of my youth again.”

Zhou Chang: “Mm.”

“Alright,” Jing Hong needed to go to the 22nd floor and it wasn’t convenient to chat for too long, so he took his leave, saying, “I have some matters to attend to here. You should head back quickly too, President Zhou—you’re covered in the smell of hot pot.” It didn’t quite suit his custom suit or his status.

Zhou Chang put on that half-serious, half-joking expression again and said, “Calling it the smell of hot pot makes it sound vulgar, doesn’t it?”

Jing Hong asked, “What else then?”

“Didn’t President Jing just say it?” Zhou Chang smiled slightly. “The smell of President Jing’s beautiful childhood memories.”

Jing Hong: “…”

“Alright, go handle your proper business, President Jing. Bye.” Zhou Chang didn’t pursue the topic further; seeing that Jing Hong was about to leave, he simply said, “Bye.”

Jing Hong nodded: “Bye.”

The elevator doors closed slowly.

Hearing the “clack” of the elevator doors shutting, Zhou Chang suddenly turned back, his gaze falling silently on the tightly closed doors.

The sound of the elevator starting came through. Zhou Chang watched the floor numbers drop from their current level to the one below, and then down another level, gradually moving farther away, before he retracted his gaze and started walking back toward his room.

When he said “the smell of President Jing’s beautiful childhood memories” just now, he actually hadn’t lied.

Although he wasn’t quite clear on the reason himself, after the first day of the Smart China Expo ended, he had suddenly remembered the way Jing Hong looked on the plane when he said, “Maybe because of childhood filters, I have a very good impression of Chongqing.” He had then wanted to try the Two Rivers Night Cruise and “Mountain City No. 1” as well, deeply curious about what the restaurant Jing Hong liked back then tasted like and what the scenery he liked looked like.

It was very strange. Zhou Chang had been to Chongqing countless times, yet he had never developed any interest in getting to know this city.

To claim it was research on a competitor would be somewhat of a stretch.

…………

After reviewing the situation on the first day of the Smart China Expo, including the signed orders and the progress of other sales leads, a consideration in Jing Hong’s mind surfaced more clearly as he returned to his room.

Chongqing’s lights were brilliant at night. Jing Hong pulled open the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the suite’s terrace. Located at Chaotianmen where the two rivers meet, the hotel possessed a magnificent view.

Jing Hong walked to the edge of the terrace, rested his elbows on the railing, leaned slightly forward, and gazed at the thousands of homes lit up in the distance.

After an unknown amount of time, Jing Hong heard a “swish”—the sliding glass door of the adjacent suite was opened as well.

Zhou Chang also walked out onto the terrace and rested his arms on the railing. Their eyes met, and Zhou Chang smiled first: “Met again, President Jing.”

Jing Hong nodded.

Zhou Chang was wearing only a bathrobe.

His hair had just been washed and wasn’t dried, making him look quite different from usual—devoid of his customary ruthless demeanor. The bathrobe had no buttons, only a belt around the waist, and the collar was loose, exposing his collarbone and a large swath of firm, muscular chest. From his angle to the side, Jing Hong could see even more.

Jing Hong quietly appreciated the view for a couple of seconds.

Zhou Chang struck up a casual conversation: “How was Fanhai’s haul today?”

“It was alright.” Jing Hong didn’t disclose any information and asked, “How about Qinghui?”

Zhou Chang replied, “Also alright.” Similarly, he disclosed no information whatsoever.

Just then, a gust of evening wind blew past. Zhou Chang pressed down the hem of his bathrobe with his right hand and only let go after the wind had passed.

Jing Hong glanced at him, and Zhou Chang offered a casual explanation: “Nothing underneath.”

“…” Jing Hong almost rolled his eyes again. He shifted his gaze back, shook his head, and didn’t take the bait.

After a moment, Zhou Chang suddenly said, “This Smart China Expo… is quite special.”

Jing Hong asked offhandedly, “Special in what way?”

“I don’t know,” Zhou Chang said. “It just feels quite special, spending two consecutive nights with nothing to do. Chatting last night, enjoying the view tonight. I have a feeling I’ll remember this for a long, long time.”

Jing Hong looked toward Zhou Chang.

The river breeze remained gentle. Above were patches of starlight, and below were tiers of city lights, half-bright and half-asleep, presenting a pace completely different from Beijing.

This city’s name meant “double celebration,” yet it had endured a great deal. Returning to tranquility after undergoing life’s vicissitudes gave it a special flavor.

Zhou Chang’s gaze also drifted over.

Neither spoke, yet subtle glimmers shone in their eyes. After a while, they tacitly turned their gazes back to look straight ahead.

The evening wind gradually grew cooler.

Jing Hong said, “It’s getting cold; I’ll head back first. You should head back early too, President Zhou—after all, you have nothing on inside.”

“It’s fine,” Zhou Chang said. “Good health, strong energy—a whole chest of vigor with nowhere to vent.”

Jing Hong glanced at Zhou Chang with playful tease in his eyes, though he said nothing.

After parting ways with Zhou Chang on the terrace, Jing Hong locked the glass door, drew the curtains, handled a bit more work, and then went to sleep.

Yet that night, strangely enough, Jing Hong had an erotic dream.

It was somewhat hazy and confusing, but at a certain moment, the subject of the erotic dream surprisingly seemed to be Zhou Chang.

In that sequence, Zhou Chang was half-kneeling, half-squatting in front of him, wearing a bathrobe with his chest bare, revealing large swathes of firm muscle underneath. One side of the bathrobe’s hem rested on his knee while the other side trailed on the floor, leaving things half-concealed in the dim, murky light. In the dream, the other man seemed to hold him with powerful hands, looking up at him with raised eyes in a posture of submission.

When he woke up again, recalling that erotic dream, Jing Hong felt it was unbelievable while his heart thudded rapidly, beating so hard his chest hurt slightly.

He couldn’t resist reminiscing over it for a brief moment.

…………

After washing up, seeing that there was still some time left, Jing Hong put on a light blue shirt without a suit jacket. Holding a document, he went to sit in the rest area on the 28th floor for a while.

Autumn days in Beijing felt desolate, but warm sunlight still poured down in the south.

The hotel directly faced the confluence of the two rivers. One side of the 28th-floor rest area was entirely covered by floor-to-ceiling glass, pristine and bright, with a row of steel handrails set at waist height. Inside the rest area, several modern and stylish wooden sofas faced the floor-to-ceiling glass, with a row of tall, lush green plants behind them.

Crossing his long legs, Jing Hong read through the document. After a while, he looked up and caught sight of the back of Zhou Chang, who was standing in front of the glass wall with his hands in his pockets, looking at the scenery outside.

Curiously, Jing Hong recognized Zhou Chang at a single glance.

Thinking of the dream from last night, Jing Hong felt quietly guilty for a second.

As if sensing Jing Hong’s gaze, Zhou Chang turned around.

By now, Zhou Chang had changed back into his usual expensive custom suit, looking properly dressed and no longer in last night’s half-exposed state, his black hair styled impeccably.

In the end, Jing Hong greeted him first: “Good morning, meeting again.”

Zhou Chang said, “Morning.”

Jing Hong looked at the document in his hand, and after a few seconds, he suddenly raised his eyes and asked Zhou Chang, “President Zhou, has Qinghui ever considered having someone from sales serve as the group president for Cloud Computing?”

Zhou Chang seemed taken aback. After a moment, he raised his eyebrows as if finding it novel, his tone filled with disbelief: “Are you asking for my advice?”

“Just asking, it’s nothing.” Jing Hong said.

Whether it was good or bad, everything was unknown and a gamble; it didn’t matter if Zhou Chang knew his thoughts.

Zhou Chang must have entertained this idea in his mind as well; Jing Hong simply wanted to hear Zhou Chang’s final conclusion.

Zhou Chang could answer or not.

From last night until now, Jing Hong had been mulling over this matter.

In the past and present, whether at Fanhai, Qinghui, Xingyuan, Weilai, or other tech companies, the head of this department had always come from a technical background—studying computer science, working in tech, and dealing with technology their whole lives.

However, that also brought certain issues.

Cloud computing was a B2B (business-to-business) operation whose clients were companies across various industries. Public cloud was fine, but in private cloud, products needed to undergo custom development based on specific client demands on top of the general industry version. The sales and pre-sales departments acted as bridges, conveying client needs to the product managers in the R&D department.

Yet to save effort, the R&D department would always convey the same message to sales and pre-sales, insisting that two things couldn’t be done: this can’t be done, and that can’t be done either.

Putting it that way was a bit exaggerated, but the reality was that whenever a difficult project came up, the R&D department would often pin its hopes on direct communication between the sales department and clients, persuading clients to drop their requirements so that the product would stay closer to the generic version, rather than pushing hard to build it. Saying “this can’t be done and that can’t be done” wasn’t really doing them an injustice.

In terms of corporate structure, the cloud computing business group’s sales/pre-sales department was on the same level as the R&D department. But because every head came from R&D, they naturally favored R&D, leaving sales and pre-sales very weak and disadvantaged.

Jing Hong had known this before, but after yesterday’s Smart China Expo and observing the pre-sales process, he felt that this problem seemed to be getting worse recently.

Fanhai Group’s cloud computing wasn’t particularly outstanding to begin with. Having been led by a head with a technical background for five full years, its tech didn’t seem to have improved much, and sales revenue remained stagnant. Thus, Jing Hong mused: if they switched to a head who favored sales, using actual client demand to pressure and push the R&D department, might the technology actually turn out a bit better as a result?

Furthermore, according to yesterday’s feedback, the general templates for various industries on the public cloud also appeared detached and impractical—flashy technology outweighed practical utility. This was normal, again because the leader was from a technical background; naturally, subordinates would try every means to showcase their technology rather than practical usability, and the leader himself might also walk down the dead end of “tech for tech’s sake.”

Of course, doing so would put immense pressure on the cloud computing R&D department and cause higher resentment. However, the head of the R&D department possessed high IQ and EQ; if R&D truly couldn’t make something work, he should be able to handle communication and coordination with his superiors well. He was not the type to merely suck up to bosses while leaving subordinates to suffer.

Jing Hong wanted to try setting a precedent of “putting a salesperson in charge.”

Using business demand to drive product and tech development.

A few seconds later, Zhou Chang nodded: “I am considering this option.”

“…” Jing Hong looked at his document without speaking.

After another few seconds, Zhou Chang smiled and asked, “Why don’t we try it together? Succeed together, or fail together. Otherwise, if Qinghui fails while Fanhai takes advantage of the gap, that would be terrible.”

By now the sun had risen. Zhou Chang stood with his back to the sun, leaning lightly against the railing as sunlight streamed past him, bathing his entire figure in a layer of gold. Wearing a black shirt, he stood out in even sharper contrast.

“Not playing,” Jing Hong said, still resting his head on his hand as he looked at the document. “I’ll think about it more.”

Zhou Chang curled his lips slightly and said, “Boring.” Then he turned around to look out the window again.

Jing Hong wanted to say you’re the one who’s boring, though of course he didn’t say it out loud.

“Alright, it’s about time. I’ll head back to prepare,” a moment later, Zhou Chang said to Jing Hong as he left the glass wall.

Jing Hong nodded.

Zhou Chang asked again, “I’ll leave right after attending this afternoon’s signing ceremony. How about you, President Jing?”

Jing Hong said, “Me too.”

“Still riding on my plane?”

“No, thank you.” Jing Hong had always been very polite. “I’m not rushing my schedule tonight, so waiting a bit more or less doesn’t matter.”

“Alright. Then—” Zhou Chang paused, then said, “After today passes, once we’re back in Beijing, we won’t see each other for a long time again.” Zhou Chang had checked the calendar last night; there were no major events for the next few months.

“Yes.” Jing Hong made a joke, teasing Zhou Chang, “Why do you look so disappointed, President Zhou? Do you wish to meet in the office again?” During the Med-Ferry incident, Jing Hong had gone directly to Zhou Chang’s own office, so they had naturally met there.

Zhou Chang smiled slightly: “Of course not. Not meeting is for the best.”

Yet Zhou Chang felt a subtle sensation in his heart. Thinking about how he wouldn’t see Jing Hong for a long period ahead, he actually felt a touch of regret.