Beneath the photo, Lin Wanwan had only sent two words.
[Congratulations.]
In the past, Lin Wanwan would have followed up with a flurry of emojis, or deliberately acted spoiled with a line like, "Look at you now, Chen Zhi, all grown up and successful."
It had been a year.
A whole year—this was the first time she had proactively messaged him.
Chen Zhi felt as if something had suddenly clenched his heart. The cheers around him, the pop of champagne corks—all of it was sucked away in an instant.
Instinctively, he turned around. Only one thought filled his mind: go to her.
Right now.
Boston was just over three hundred kilometers from New York—less than an hour by plane, only four hours by car.
He had barely taken half a step when his wrist was yanked tightly from behind.
Chen Zhi turned his head.
Pei Ningxue stood beside him, her stunning eyes fixed on him coldly.
"At a moment this important, where do you think you're going?"
Chen Zhi’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
"I have some personal business."
"Personal business?" Pei Ningxue lowered her voice, leaning close to his ear. "There are over a hundred top global media outlets waiting out there to interview you. Partners from Hillhouse and Morgan Stanley are waiting to pop champagne with you. Tens of thousands of retail investors are watching DeepSpace Technology’s stock price."
She tightened her grip on his wrist, a hint of frustration in her tone.
"You’re already irresponsible with your relationships—do you want to be irresponsible with your career, too? Handle what’s right in front of you first."
Chen Zhi looked at Pei Ningxue.
Today, she was wearing a tailored black power suit, her makeup flawless, her presence commanding—every inch a top-tier CFO in control of a hundred-billion-dollar fortune. But Chen Zhi could feel her hand trembling slightly as it held his.
Pei Ningxue was forcing herself to stay composed.
She knew exactly what that look in Chen Zhi’s eyes meant. What else could make a man lose his composure at a bell-ringing ceremony, if not the girl far away in Boston?
Chen Zhi took a deep breath. When he closed his eyes and opened them again, the impulse in them had been forcibly suppressed.
"Sorry."
He patted the back of Pei Ningxue’s hand. "Let’s go. Time for the interviews."
Pei Ningxue slowly let go of his wrist. She said nothing more, simply turned and walked ahead of him.
For the next two hours, Chen Zhi ran on autopilot.
A reporter from The Wall Street Journal pushed to the front, microphone in hand.
"Boss Chen! DeepSpace Technology opened with a 60% surge, pushing the market cap past $800 billion! As the world’s youngest billionaire, how are you feeling right now?"
Chen Zhi forced a standard smile at the camera.
"Perfectly calm. DeepSpace Technology’s value isn’t in today’s stock price—it’s in how much efficiency MossOS can bring to human society."
Beside him, Boss Zhang from Hillhouse led a round of applause, camera flashes turning the room into a sea of white.
A Bloomberg journalist followed up immediately.
"Boss Chen, there are rumors that Microsoft and Google are secretly developing next-generation multimodal large models, trying to counter Moss at next month’s developer conference. What’s your response?"
"Open-source communities are great," Chen Zhi said flatly. "But the moat of an operating system has never been filled by publishing a few papers. DeepSpace Technology welcomes competition."
The answer was flawless, even carrying a hint of arrogance—perfectly matching Wall Street’s stereotype of the Eastern genius.
Beside him, Dai Damai was so excited his face was flushed, dragging executives into group photos like a man possessed.
The entire Nasdaq trading floor, all of Wall Street, even the whole of Silicon Valley, was buzzing with the frenzy of the AI craze.
Everyone except Chen Zhi.
He held a glass of champagne, weaving through the crowd, clinking glasses and making small talk with the suit-clad capital bigwigs, listening to their exaggerated praises for the future of Deep Space Technology.
But to him, it was just noise.
Playing on a loop in his mind was the photo of Lin Wanwan on a street in Boston.
She had lost weight.
Her hair was shorter.
She hadn’t replied to any of his messages.
Chen Zhi raised his glass and downed the champagne in one gulp.
The dinner was held at a penthouse restaurant in Manhattan.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the dazzling nightscape of New York sparkled, the Empire State Building’s lights twinkling in the sky.
Dai Damai came over with a plate, chewing on a piece of steak.
“Boss, what’s wrong with you today? You were distracted during the bell-ringing ceremony, and when Mr. Zhang from Hillhouse talked to you about the follow-up spin-off listing, you just nodded and mumbled your way through it.” Dai Damai swallowed the meat and lowered his voice. “Something going sideways?”
“Nothing.” Chen Zhi placed his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “It’s too stuffy in there. I’m going to get some air.”
Ignoring Dai Damai’s questioning, he walked to the terrace at the end of the hallway and lit a cigarette.
Signatures, group photos, interviews, a closed-door cocktail party.
Chen Zhi went through the motions.
But every few minutes, he instinctively glanced at his phone.
There were no new messages from Lin Wanwan.
Pei Ningxue noticed, but she didn’t bring it up again.
Not until the cocktail party ended, and Chen Zhi was taken to a lounge.
He had just sat down when his phone buzzed again.
This time, it was Su Man.
【Chen Zhi, don’t call. She has a performance today.】
Chen Zhi immediately typed back.
【What performance?】
Su Man replied quickly.
【An internal music festival at Berklee, not open to the public.】
【She told me not to tell you.】
Chen Zhi stared at the last line.
【Then why are you telling me?】
Su Man sent an eye-roll emoji.
【Because she watched you ring the bell and started crying.】
Chen Zhi’s fingers froze.
Just then, Pei Ningxue pushed open the door. “The media dinner starts in half an hour.”
Chen Zhi looked up at her. “I’m not going.”
The file in Pei Ningxue’s hand hovered in midair.
“Reason?”
“I’m going to Boston.”
Pei Ningxue stared at him for a few seconds.
“You’re doing this again?”
Chen Zhi stood up and grabbed his coat.
“The process is done. The stock price is where it needs to be. The reporters have been handled.”
“Right now, I’m not the CEO.”
“I’m just an ex-boyfriend who wants to go see a show.”
Pei Ningxue let out a laugh at his words, though it was laced with exasperation.
“An ex-boyfriend who knows his place.”
Chen Zhi stopped at the door and turned back.
“You want to come?”
Pei Ningxue was stunned. “What?”
Chen Zhi looked at her.
“To Boston.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll mess things up?”
“No.”
Pei Ningxue studied him for a long moment before tossing her files onto the table.
“Chen Zhi, you’re really something.”
Chen Zhi nodded.
“Yeah, it’s an old habit.”
Pei Ningxue pulled out her phone and dialed her assistant.
“Cancel the dinner.”
“?”
She glanced at Chen Zhi.
“The CEO is emotionally unstable on the day of the IPO. The CFO is accompanying him for observation.”
Chen Zhi: “…”
Dai Damai pushed the door open just then, caught the words on the air, and froze.
“Huh?”
“Boss, where are you two going?”
Chen Zhi slipped into his coat.
“Boston.”
Dai Damai braced himself against the doorframe.
“No, boss, there’s a CNBC interview tomorrow, an investment bank breakfast meeting the day after, and a closed-door session with NVIDIA the day after that…”
Pei Ningxue grabbed her bag and was about to head out.
“You handle the interview.”
Dai Damai froze in disbelief.
“Me?!”
Chen Zhi patted him on the shoulder.
“Lao Dai, Deep Space Tech needs you.”
Dai Damai was losing his mind.
“I’m a coder—I’m supposed to face the global financial media?”
Chen Zhi was already walking out.
“Just tell them the boss went to chase love.”
Dai Damai yelled from behind.
“Can I actually say that?!”
Without turning back, Chen Zhi said,
“No, so this is where your real test begins.”
Just as they reached the elevator, Su Man sent another message.
【Don’t come. She’s singing a new song tonight.】
Chen Zhi got curious. What had Lin Wanwan written this time?
【What’s it called?】
【No Turning Back.】
The elevator doors opened.
Pei Ningxue glanced at the three words on Chen Zhi’s phone and asked softly,
“Still going?”
Chen Zhi pocketed his phone and stepped into the elevator.
“Yes.”
Just as the doors were about to close, Dai Damai rushed to the end of the hallway and shouted in despair:
“Boss! At least tell me—when CNBC asks why you skipped the dinner, what story should I make up!”
Chen Zhi held the door open and leaned out halfway.
“Just say—”
“The CEO of Deep Space Tech had to temporarily handle a problem more expensive than a trillion dollars.”
The elevator doors shut.
Dai Damai stood there for a long moment, then finally blurted out,
“Can that even air on TV?!”
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
ts me of treason?" "Correct. The host must return to the capital and gradually build up influence." "Wait—I have half a million soldiers, and you want me to go back to the capital to 'build influence'?" "Host, you are currently the Northern Garrison General, loyal to the Great Xia Dynasty." "Of course I am loyal to Great Xia! Absolutely loyal!" "But you keep referring to yourself as 'We'..." "Never mind the details! Summon all the regional commanders and military officers! We suspect treacherous officials are manipulating the court! They shall march with Us to the capital and purge the corrupt!" "......"
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
