You Should Be Back by Now

When Chen Zhi came out of Peking University's library, the fine snow had already turned into heavy, goose-feather flakes.

He didn't hail a taxi, just limped along the campus path. The pain in his left knee was sharp, but he felt pretty good inside. Pei Ningxue might have a hard mouth, but she had taken that letter of intent. If she was willing to start editing, it meant that proud little fox had already half a foot back inside the door of Deep Space Technologies.

When he got back to Wanyuan Academy, he pushed open the door, and the warmth of the heater hit him.

Li Zhiyi was sitting on the sofa flipping through a legal casebook. She was still wearing that gray hoodie, looking like a college student who had never entered the workforce, with none of the sharp edge of the legal gladiator she would later become.

Seeing Chen Zhi return, she put down the book, stood up, and walked over. Her eyes immediately fell on his left leg.

"Why didn't you bring the crutch?" Li Zhiyi frowned, her voice carrying a note of reproach, but mostly worry.

Chen Zhi changed into slippers, leaned against the hallway cabinet, and grinned. "Wanted to see if I could walk on my own. Turns out I overestimated this useless leg."

Li Zhiyi came over, took his arm, and guided him slowly toward the sofa.

"You went to see her?"

Chen Zhi nodded. "Caught her at the library. She's back in the country, canceled her leave, and plans to stay at Peking University awhile."

Li Zhiyi pressed him down onto the sofa, rolled up his pant leg, and crouched to start massaging his swollen knee. Her hands were warm, with just the right pressure. Pressing into the areas where the bruising hadn't fully faded, Chen Zhi felt so comfortable he could have moaned.

"Is she coming back?" Li Zhiyi asked, head down, hair falling across half her face.

"Still in the back-and-forth. But she agreed to help with the contract review for the company's Series B round." Chen Zhi stared at her hair, guilt churning up inside him again. "Zhiyi, I..."

"Don't say it, Chen Zhi." Li Zhiyi cut him off, not stopping her movements. "I chose to stay here. I don't need your apologies."

Chen Zhi realized Li Zhiyi had become so much more clearheaded over these past four months.

"The launch is next Wednesday. Are you coming?" Chen Zhi asked.

"Of course. Why not?" Li Zhiyi looked up, smiling at him, eyes bright. "I'm Deep Space Technologies' legal counsel. The boss is announcing the company's march into the hundred-billion club for the first time. I have to be there. If you end up overselling it, I'll figure out a way to save you."

Chen Zhi reached out and ruffled her hair, silently vowing that if he ever let this girl down, he deserved to be struck by lightning.

...

Over the next three days, Deep Space Technologies practically became an all-night operation.

Dai Damao and his team were essentially camping at the office.

"Zhi-ge, it's done! Come look!"

Chen Zhi was on a video call with NVIDIA's representative, and he immediately flipped the camera off. "Got it?"

"Got it." Dai Damao plugged a USB drive into Chen Zhi's computer. "If we release this video generation model, Silicon Valley's AI guys are going to question their whole existence."

On the screen appeared a clean, simple interaction interface.

Chen Zhi typed a line into the prompt box: "An Eastern woman in a red cheongsam, holding an oil-paper umbrella, walking along the streets of 1920s old Shanghai. A fine rain wets the bluestone road. Neon lights from shops on both sides reflect in the puddles. The camera approaches smoothly, panning gracefully."

He clicked generate.

He thought it would take a long time, but with the computing power of Moss in the cloud, in less than thirty seconds, a one-minute video popped up.

The texture of the cheongsam's silk, the way raindrops bounced off the umbrella's surface, the broken light glimmering in the puddles, and even the slight breeze the hem of the cheongsam stirred up as the woman walked—everything was crystal clear.

The craziest part was that the video had none of the usual AI "hallucinatory" jitter. It was logically consistent.

"This quality..." Chen Zhi stared at the screen, speechless for a long while.

In his previous life, he had seen Sora and various top-tier models, but the effect of Moss was even more stunning than he had imagined.

"Zhi-ge, this isn't video generation. This is God's hand." Dai Damao chuckled. "What do you think people at the launch tomorrow will think of our company?"

...

Wednesday.

This was the most premium launch venue in the capital. Sitting in the audience were not only domestic and international media, but also the heads of global top-tier venture capital firms like Sequoia, Hillhouse, Morgan Stanley, and SoftBank.

NVIDIA's Jensen Huang had even sent an executive vice president on a special flight.

The venue was packed wall to wall.

Pei Ningxue sat in a seat near the edge of the third row, wearing a pair of black-rimmed glasses and a sharp, tailored black suit that made her look competent and cool.

She glanced toward the backstage entrance, muttering under her breath: This idiot, his leg hasn't even healed properly, and he still insists on going all out like this.

Li Zhiyi sat in the front row's family section, clutching Chen Zhi's jacket in her arms.

The two women had actually crossed paths in the venue.

Pei Ningxue gave a slight nod, and Li Zhiyi responded with a gentle smile. There was none of the anticipated fireworks. Instead, there was an unspoken, quiet understanding.

The lights dimmed, and the entire hall fell silent.

Chen Zhi walked onto the stage in a simple dark blue suit. His left leg was still noticeably limping, but every step was steady.

The shutter clicks from the cameras below instantly merged into a continuous sea of white flashes.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Chen Zhi."

Standing center stage, Chen Zhi swept his gaze across the trillion-dollar titans in the audience. His tone was as casual as if he were boasting in a dorm room.

"A lot of people asked me why Deep Space Technologies is demanding a $75 billion valuation for its Series B round. They think I'm crazy, that AI is just some ethereal bubble."

Chen Zhi smiled and clicked the remote in his hand.

On the big screen, the video of the woman in the red cheongsam appeared.

A deathly silence fell over the entire audience.

Those investment veterans, who had seen it all, craned their necks forward, their eyes practically popping out.

"This isn't a live shoot. This was generated by Moss from a piece of text in thirty seconds." Chen Zhi pointed at the screen. "It understands the laws of physics. It understands the logic of light and shadow. It understands human aesthetics. It's not simulating—it's creating."

As Chen Zhi continued demonstrating—inputting "Cyberpunk Beijing," "Dragon in the Deep Sea," "Wedding in a Wasteland World"—a series of killer realistic videos appeared on the big screen.

Suppressed exclamations rippled through the audience.

"This isn't science... a Silicon Valley technology reporter whispered. "The rules are changing. The rules are changing."

Chen Zhi let the excitement simmer, then slowly revealed the final slide.

It showed only one string of numbers: $100,000,000,000.

"Just now, five minutes before I took the stage, NVIDIA officially signed a share swap agreement. Deep Space Technologies will receive NVIDIA's highest-priority computing resource support for the next three years."

Chen Zhi looked out at the audience, his voice reaching every corner of the hall.

"At the same time, the Series B financing has officially closed, and Deep Space Technology's latest valuation has officially exceeded one hundred billion dollars."

Boom!

The venue erupted.

The reporters scrambled forward like mad, their flashbulbs so bright that Pei Ningxue could barely keep her eyes open.

She sat in her seat, staring at the young man on stage who walked with a slight limp.

One hundred billion dollars.

That bastard had actually done it.

After the press conference ended, in the rest area, Chen Zhi lay sprawled on the sofa, his left leg twitching in pain.

Dai Dali was outside handling the frantic investors, while Li Zhiyi was helping him spray pain relief.

The door swung open.

Pei Ningxue walked in and tossed the agreement onto Chen Zhi's chest.

"I've revised it. Just sign your name and you're done."

Chen Zhi took the agreement and, without even glancing at it, tossed it aside.

He stared at Pei Ningxue, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ms. Pei, a bet's a bet. The valuation's hit a hundred billion. Isn't it time you honored your promise?"

Pei Ningxue's face flushed. She glanced at Li Zhiyi, who was spraying pain relief, and gritted her teeth. "Chen Zhi, don't push your luck. There are too many people here..."

"So what if there are people?" Chen Zhi shamelessly reached out a hand. "Come here. Let me hug you. This is a hug worth a hundred billion dollars."

Li Zhiyi paused in her movements, looked up at Pei Ningxue, and there was even a hint of teasing encouragement in her eyes.

Pei Ningxue felt like she was going to explode with embarrassment.

Just as she was about to turn and walk away, her phone suddenly rang.

She glanced at the screen, and her face went pale.

"Who is it?" Chen Zhi sensed something was wrong.

Pei Ningxue took a deep breath and turned the phone screen toward him.

"I'm in the parking lot downstairs at Guomao. Bring that bastard surnamed Chen down to see me. —Pei Dongcheng."

Chen Zhi's mouth twitched.

His father-in-law was coming with a knife to the meet?

He looked down at his leg, still in the cast and barely healed, then at the two girls with completely different styles in the room.

"Zhiyi, hand me my crutches," Chen Zhi coughed. "I think I need to play up the injuries a bit more."

Li Zhiyi held back a laugh. "If you play up the injuries now, Uncle Pei might just break your other leg to even things out."

Pei Ningxue pocketed her phone and snorted coldly. "No need to pretend. He said if you don't come, he'll come up here himself and throw you off the top floor. You've got experience with jumping, after all."

Chen Zhi stood up with the crutches, looked at these two women, and suddenly grinned.

"Let's go. The CEO of a hundred-billion-dollar company, taking you to meet the parents."

Outside, the blizzard was still raging.

But Deep Space Technology's flag was already planted at the pinnacle of the global internet.

Just as he reached the door, his phone buzzed again.

It was a text from an unfamiliar number in Jiangcheng.

"Chen Zhi, remember what you said."

Lin Wanwan?

That little menace was making her move too?

"What's wrong?" Pei Ningxue caught the shift in Chen Zhi's expression. She stepped closer and glanced at his phone screen.

Chen Zhi flipped his wrist with practiced ease, slipping the phone into his pocket as he steadied himself on the sofa arm. "Nothing. Dai Dali messaged to say there are too many media outside, asking if we should take the VIP exit."

Pei Ningxue looked at him with suspicion, but didn't press.

Just then, the rest area door swung open again.

Dai Dali stormed in, clutching a black waterproof courier bag from Shunfeng. "Brother Zhi! The front desk said there's an urgent package for you, sent from Jiangcheng, and only you can sign for it!"

The air in the room froze.

Chen Zhi felt like hurling Dai Dali out of the twentieth-floor window right then and there. The kid was a genius at coding, but clueless at reading the room.

Pei Ningxue's eyes locked onto the courier bag, her brows arching slightly.

Li Zhiyi had been packing up Chen Zhi's painkillers, but upon hearing "Jiangcheng," she stopped and turned to look at Chen Zhi quietly.

The two women's gazes converged on the black courier bag.

"Cough..." Chen Zhi cleared his throat, shifted on his crutches as stepped forward, and snatched the courier bag from Dai Dali's arms, tucking it under his armpit. "Business confidential. Probably a sample batch of screens Huang Zhang sent over."

"A screen sample in a bag that small?" Pei Ningxue sneered, crossing her arms. "Since when did Jiangcheng have a Meizu factory? I'm a former CFO, and I don't remember that."

Dai Dali still stupidly added, "Right, Brother Zhi. This doesn't feel like a screen..."

"Shut up and go keep those investors busy!" Chen Zhi shot him a glare.

Dai Dali shrank back, finally cluing into the atmosphere, and slipped away.

Chen Zhi tucked the courier bag under his arm. He looked at Li Zhiyi and then at Pei Ningxue, his mind racing.

"It's alright," Li Zhiyi spoke up, breaking the deadlock.

She handed Chen Zhi the bag of medicines in a calm tone. "Uncle Pei's still waiting for you in the parking garage. It's not good to keep an elder waiting. Go on down. I'll stay here and help legal double-check the copies of the memorandums you just signed."

She was actively giving him an out.

Chen Zhi thought to himself that Li Zhiyi was indeed understanding. "Thank you. I appreciate the help."

Pei Ningxue watched Li Zhiyi's composed demeanor and felt inexplicably irritated. She grabbed her bag and said bluntly to Chen Zhi, "Let's go, President Chen. All those hundreds of billions won't buy you time."

The two stepped out of the rest area and into the private elevator.

Once the doors closed in the cramped space, Chen Zhi finally relaxed and weighed the courier bag in his hands. Light. He couldn't guess what was inside.

"Lin Wanwan sent it?" Pei Ningxue fixed her eyes on the descending floor numbers and suddenly asked.

Chen Zhi neither denied nor confirmed. He simply stashed the bag inside his suit's chest pocket.

"Chen Zhi, do you think that just because your company's worth a hundred billion, you can play everyone for fools?" Pei Ningxue turned her head, her tone cold. "Li Zhiyi can put up with you, but that doesn't mean everyone will. Your so-called childhood sweetheart left her career and moved back home four months ago. And today, the moment the press conference ends, she sends you something. What do you think she's trying to say?"

Chen Zhi leaned against the elevator wall, looking at her. "She's reminding me not to forget that I'm a bastard."

"When we see my dad, you'd better wipe that smile off your face," Pei Ningxue warned him. "He didn't come here today to congratulate you on striking it rich."

"Got it," Chen Zhi grinned. "If the old man's going to lecture me, I'll stand there and take it."

"Who's your old man!"

Ding.

The elevator reached the basement parking level two.

As the doors opened, a chilly draft swept in.

Chen Zhi limped out on his crutches and immediately spotted the black Rolls-Royce Phantom parked nearby. Its Jiangcheng consecutive-plate license plate was glaringly flashy.

Two men in black suits stood by the car. When they saw Pei Ningxue, they respectfully bowed and opened the rear door.

The compartment was dark, with no interior lights on.

Pei Dongcheng sat in the back seat, the oppressive aura of a lifelong aristocrat washing over them.

"Dad," Pei Ningxue walked over and said.

Pei Dongcheng didn't look at his daughter. His gaze fell on Chen Zhi, or more precisely, on Chen Zhi's carbon fiber walking stick.

"Leg's crippled?" Pei Dongcheng's voice was low, laced with undisguised mockery.

"Thanks to you, I've still got half a life left," Chen Zhi said as he stepped forward, ignoring the guards' defensive postures. He stood directly outside the car door and smiled warmly. "Uncle Pei, it's been chilly in Beijing these past few days. Is it cold in the car? Why don't you come upstairs for a cup of hot tea?"

"Don't try to get cozy with me." Pei Dongcheng leaned forward. "Chen Zhi, a hundred-billion-dollar valuation, quite impressive. What are they calling you online now? China's youngest tech guru?"

"The internet loves to hype things up. It's nothing to take seriously." Chen Zhi waved his hand modestly.

"You're right, it's not worth taking seriously." Pei Dongcheng sneered. "Because in my eyes, you're still an arrogant piece of trash who doesn't know his place."

The atmosphere froze instantly.

The bodyguard beside them shifted half a step closer to Chen Zhi, muscles tensed.

Pei Ningxue's face turned pale as she immediately stepped in front of Chen Zhi. "Dad! What are you doing? Today is the big day for his company's Series B funding, and you have to come here to cause trouble?"

"I'm causing trouble?" Pei Dongcheng glared at his daughter shielding Chen Zhi, laughing bitterly. "Pei Ningxue, you spent four months hiding out in Sanya, and I thought you'd grown some sense. But the moment this brat calls, you come running back like a fool. Have you no shame? You've disgraced the Pei family name!"

Pei Ningxue's eyes reddened from the scolding, but she didn't budge an inch. "This is my own business! I want to be here!"

"You!" Pei Dongcheng raised his hand in anger.

Chen Zhi quickly pulled Pei Ningxue behind him. Though his left leg couldn't support him well, he stood straight and tall. Facing Pei Dongcheng's fury, he dropped his smile.

"Uncle Pei, if you're angry, take it out on me. Don't scare her."

Pei Dongcheng squinted, looking Chen Zhi up and down. "Can you really protect her? Chen Zhi, don't think that just because you have Nvidia's backing, you can walk all over Beijing. Believe me, if I put out one word, those so-called 'fans' or 'close friends' of yours will become the laughingstock of the entire internet by tomorrow."

Baidu's previous smear campaigns had only gone after his products, but if Pei Dongcheng struck, he would go directly after Chen Zhi's public image and private life. Public sentiment in China was different from overseas. Once the scandal of Chen Zhi juggling multiple women broke, his valuation would plummet.

Chen Zhi was silent for two seconds.

Then, he suddenly laughed.

He took a step forward, bracing both hands on the Rolls-Royce's doorframe, leaning in close to Pei Dongcheng.

"Uncle Pei, you won't do that."

"You think I don't have the guts?" Pei Dongcheng's voice turned even colder.

"You don't have the heart," Chen Zhi said, locking eyes with him. "You don't want Ningxue to go down in disgrace with me. Besides, DeepSpace Tech isn't something you can just topple with a word now. Hillhouse, Sequoia, Morgan Stanley, and the backing of the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology—if you move against me now, you'd be taking on the whole AI industry, not just in China, but globally."

Chen Zhi's tone was calm.

"I'm standing here today not because I'm afraid of you. It's because you're Ningxue's father. I respect you, so I'm here taking your insults." Chen Zhi gestured behind him toward Pei Ningxue. "But if you think you can use business tactics or public opinion to force me to give her up—or give up anyone else—then you've misjudged me."

Pei Dongcheng's face turned ashen.

In decades of navigating the business world, he had seen countless young men, but never one like Chen Zhi, who turned juggling multiple women into what seemed like a grand strategy.

And yet, the cards this kid held were too strong.

A long moment passed.

Pei Dongcheng suddenly leaned back into his seat, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the inscrutable expression of a seasoned businessman.

"Chen Zhi, you're arrogant," Pei Dongcheng said, picking up a brown paper envelope and tossing it onto Chen Zhi's chest. "But arrogance comes with a price."

Chen Zhi caught the envelope with one hand. "What's this? A gift from my future father-in-law?"

"This is your death warrant," Pei Dongcheng replied coldly. "You think Baidu will just roll over after you humiliated them at that press conference? Li Mingyuan flew to the U.S. last week and teamed up with senior executives from Google and Microsoft. They're planning to block and strangle Moss in the open-source community and overseas channels. This list and plan—I paid a fortune to get them."

Chen Zhi frowned slightly, gripping the envelope tighter.

"A hundred billion dollars is a threshold. Cross it, and you'll be basking in glory. Fail, and you'll be crushed to dust." Pei Dongcheng stared at Chen Zhi. "I didn't come here today to stop Ningxue. I came to see how long you, this hundred-billion-dollar CEO, can survive the siege of multiple giants."

With that, Pei Dongcheng rolled up the window.

The Rolls-Royce slowly drove out of the underground garage.

Pei Ningxue watched the taillights fade and let out a long sigh of relief.

"If I hadn't talked back to him, he wouldn't have handed over this intel," Chen Zhi said, holding up the brown envelope. "That old fox—talks tough about breaking my legs, but behind the scenes, he's already scoped out our enemies' weak spots. This future father-in-law, he's solid."

Pei Ningxue pinched his arm in anger. "Don't be ridiculous! Who's your future father-in-law?"

Despite her words, the heavy stone in Pei Ningxue's heart had finally lifted. Since her father had sent this intel, it meant he had, to some extent, acknowledged Chen Zhi's current standing.

The two of them went back upstairs.

The office was empty—Dai Dali and Li Zhiyi were gone.

Chen Zhi took off his jacket and hung it on the rack. Pei Ningxue walked over and helped tidy the messy papers on his desk, then pointed at the corner of a black courier bag sticking out of his pocket.

"No one's around now. Open it," Pei Ningxue said, pulling up a chair like she was ready for a show. "Let me see what that megastar sent you."

With a wry smile, Chen Zhi pulled out the waterproof SF Express bag and placed it on the desk.

The bag was very light. There was no sender's name, just an address in Jiangcheng.

Chen Zhi grabbed a utility knife and carefully cut open the seal.

He remembered the words Lin Wanwan had said when she handed him that box four months ago: "Don't open it for a year. If you open it, we'll never see each other again."

Inside was nothing but a tiny USB drive.

A bad feeling crept over Chen Zhi. He dialed Su Man's number.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered. In the background, he could hear an airport terminal's intercom.

"Hello, CEO Chen." Su Man's voice sounded exhausted.

"Are you at the airport?" Chen Zhi's voice carried a barely concealed panic.

"She's going abroad for further study. Wanwan got an offer from Berkeley," Su Man sighed. "CEO Chen, today is your big day with that hundred-billion valuation. Wanwan and I won't crash the party. A change of scenery will do her good."

"When's her flight?"

“Forty minutes until takeoff.” Su Man paused. “President Chen, don’t push yourself. Your leg hasn’t healed yet. Even if you chartered a flight right now, you wouldn’t make it in time.”

“Su Man, give her the phone. I want to hear her voice.”

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the line.

Then came the faint rustling sound of the phone being passed.

“Hello.”

A voice, both familiar and slightly hoarse, traveled through the receiver.

Chen Zhi’s breath caught in his throat. Four months. This was the first time he had heard Lin Wanwan’s voice.

“Wanwan...”

“Chen Zhi.” Lin Wanwan cut him off, her voice soft but eerily calm. “Congratulations—billion-dollar CEO.”

“Why are you leaving?”

“Because I suddenly realized that Jiangcheng is too small. And Beijing is too small, too.” Lin Wanwan let out a soft chuckle on the other end. “That USB drive on your desk—it’s a song I wrote over these past four months. Consider it a farewell gift.”

“Wanwan, listen to me...”

“Chen Zhi, our one-year agreement isn’t up yet.” Her voice grew quieter. “You haven't opened that box, have you?”

Chen Zhi stared at the USB drive on the desk, his eyes stinging. “No.”

“Good.”

Lin Wanwan paused for a long time—so long that Chen Zhi thought she had hung up.

Then, her final words came through the earpiece, as light as a sigh.

“Chen Zhi, I’m leaving. Take good care of yourself in Beijing... and take care of them, too.”

Beep—beep—beep—

The call ended.

Chen Zhi stood by his desk, phone still held to his ear, silent for a long time.

Pei Ningxue watched him, utterly devastated, her heart a tangled mix of emotions. She walked over, picked up the USB drive, and plugged it into the computer.

A single audio file appeared on the screen.

The file name was only two words.

“Fulfillment.”

Pei Ningxue hit play.

From the speakers came Lin Wanwan’s ethereal yet sorrowful voice, singing a cappella:

“I gave you so many years of my youth, and in return, I got a thank you for letting you go…”