Li Weiyi remembered something and said again: “This time, we should have achieved everything satisfactorily, right? I plan to leave myself a long letter, clearly explaining the before and after, telling my seventeen-year-old self to firmly support Sister and Zhong Yi, and bravely study painting. Just in case, if I encounter my ex-boyfriend, I should stay far away. That way, my life should be stable and secure. What about you? Do you plan to leave yourself a letter?”

Zhang Jingchan said: “No need. Since he’s already made a promise, I don’t need to do anything extra. If this time he still persists in his folly, then my future self can only continue down the original life path—there are no other choices. Leaving a message would be meaningless.”

That evening, Li Weiyi returned to the Zhang family home and lay on the big bed when she suddenly remembered something. She felt her pockets—oh no, empty. She quickly jumped up and ran downstairs to the laundry room, asking the housekeeper: “Sister Liu, the pants I changed out of yesterday—have they been washed?”

Sister Liu pointed toward the drying rack outside.

Li Weiyi hurried to find the pants and searched through them—nothing. She then searched all over the villa, inside and out, on the ground—to no avail. Moreover, she couldn’t remember at all where she had dropped it. Had it fallen at the Li family home? In Shanghai? Or at the café?

Before she came, because she didn’t know which time point she’d transmigrate to, she had simply copied down two sets of numbers for each of the four months from January onward. Upon arriving here in mid-March, she immediately wrote down the four sets of numbers for March and April. But now, she couldn’t remember them all no matter what.

Li Weiyi lay back on the bed regretfully. After a moment, she smiled. Forget it—it didn’t matter if she didn’t get this windfall. Being able to accomplish those things on this trip had already left her deeply satisfied.

——

Shanghai.

At night, by the beach.

Xu Yi led several people hurrying onto the beach. The moonlight was sparse and pale, the tide surging. A solitary figure sat on a massive rock. The familiar silhouette made Xu Yi recognize him at a glance.

Xu Yi breathed a sigh of relief, signaling the others to wait while he slowly walked forward, calling out: “Chairman.”

Zhang Moyun wore only his dress shirt, having removed his suit jacket and draped it over his shoulder, giving him somewhat of the casual, unrestrained air of his youth. He continued gazing ahead and said: “You’ve been looking for me all day, haven’t you?”

Xu Yi fell silent. In the four years he’d worked as his special assistant at the company, he had only seen his daily devotion to work that bordered on forgetting to eat and sleep, his admirable boldness and insight, and of course, the arbitrary autocracy befitting a chairman that brooked no disagreement. This was the first time Zhang Moyun had disappeared for an entire day without any explanation during a critical juncture in advancing a major project.

“Do you… have some troubles on your mind?”

Zhang Moyun only smiled, answering a question with a question: “The one hundred fifty million the bank approved last week—has it all been invested in projects already?”

Xu Yi was momentarily stunned, then nodded: “It was all deployed two days ago. Ninety million paid for land purchases, thirty million paid to suppliers who have secured new materials and already started production. Thirty million invested in the apparel business to buy the six storefronts you approved.”

Zhang Moyun simply gazed ahead. The deep, dark sky had clouds floating shallowly and faintly, with a few scattered stars as embellishments. The city’s outline was magnificent yet blurred, even the coastline at his feet was blurred. The sea crouched and roared before him, yet also seemed to mock his foolishness.

So he raised his head and laughed softly too, saying in a voice only he could hear: “Achan… I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry, son. You did so well, much better than Dad. If Fuming could one day be handed over to you, you would surely forge even more magnificent glory.

Dad really wants to listen to your words and let go, but it’s too late now—I’ve taken on another one hundred fifty million in debt. If you could have told Dad these words half a month earlier…

I can’t give up Fuming now. I’ve lived my life standing straight and walking upright, never wronging anyone. If I admit defeat now—betrayed by all, left with nothing, a rat crossing the street that everyone beats.

Even more, I can’t let you and your mother accompany me in bearing one hundred fifty million in debt. How can my wife and son live such a humiliating and painful life?

Dad has no other choice. The blade is at my throat—not to fight is to die. I can only stake everything on one throw. As long as I can grasp even a thread of opportunity, revive Fuming, and recover the capital, in this game of money involving hundreds of millions, Dad might not necessarily end up with no place to be buried.

“Chairman, what did you say?” Xu Yi asked hesitantly.

Zhang Moyun let out a long breath, stood up, jumped down from the rock, and quickly put on his suit jacket. He raised his head, and in just an instant, seemed to have recovered his usual mountain-like imposing presence.

“Let’s go.” He strode forward with large steps, followed by Xu Yi and a group of others, all keeping silent. And he continued forward, never looking back at the sea behind him, never turning back.