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?!”
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"
transmigrates into the role of a villainous rich second-generation kid in an urban fantasy novel, and gets bound to a god-tier choice system. Right at the start, he catches the female lead stealing exam papers! This triggers the villain's choice options! [Choice 1: Pretend you didn't see anything] [Choice 2: Loudly call her out, drawing everyone's attention] [Choice 3: ...] And thus, a twisted villain is born. To avoid getting killed by the protagonist, he has no choice but to take down all the protagonists first. Jiang Che: Nobody understands being twisted better than me!
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
