River of Time

The autumn in Jingzhou was fleeting.

It seemed as though the ginkgo trees had shed all their leaves overnight.

The world was changing, and changing fast—so fast that many couldn’t make sense of it.

The strategic pivot of Abyssal Dragon Tech, the risk contingency plans of the Mo Group, the resource deployment of the Qin Group…

These massive maneuvers beneath the surface remained invisible to outsiders.

What the business world saw was that after the resounding success of its "Polaris OS," Abyssal Dragon Tech didn’t press its advantage. Instead, it made a series of baffling moves.

...

Early morning, 6:30.

In the apartment at Cloud Peak One, sunlight had just crept over the horizon.

Lu Chenyuan had already finished his morning workout and was preparing breakfast in the kitchen.

The coffee machine hummed softly as it ground the beans.

In the frying pan, eggs sizzled.

Mo Qingli emerged from the bedroom, wearing one of Lu Chenyuan’s white shirts—its hem just long enough to graze her thighs.

Her hair was slightly tousled, carrying the languidness of someone freshly awake. She wrapped her arms around Lu Chenyuan’s waist from behind, resting her chin lightly on his shoulder.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice still husky.

"Morning," Lu Chenyuan replied without turning, deftly handing her a slice of warm, freshly toasted bread.

Mo Qingli took a bite, leaning against him as she watched him methodically prepare two identical breakfasts.

The apartment was nothing like it had been a year ago.

The study now held an entire wall of books on art history and economics—hers.

On the balcony, succulents and pothos thrived under her occasional care.

The living room sofa was draped with her favorite cashmere throw.

In the walk-in closet, his suits and her dresses hung side by side—distinct, yet perfectly harmonious.

This place finally felt like a home.

As they ate breakfast, Lu Chenyuan’s private terminal lit up with an encrypted message from Ren Qian:

"President Lu, the location for the first vocational college has been finalized."

"'Abyssal Dragon Tech Vocational College.'"

"As per your requirements, the admission criteria are limited to graduates with bachelor’s degrees or higher. This… might be too stringent? The industry is laughing at us, calling it a pipe dream, a waste of money."

Lu Chenyuan read it but didn’t reply.

Mo Qingli glanced up. "Trouble?"

"Not trouble," he said, sipping his coffee. "Just a lack of understanding."

"They want technicians who can hit the production line immediately," Mo Qingli cut to the heart of it.

"Whereas you want craftsmen and engineers willing to endure a decade of obscurity—until they become masters of their fields."

Lu Chenyuan smiled.

"You know me too well, Qingli."

"So, ignore them," she said, setting down her fork and dabbing her lips with a napkin. "Time will prove everything."

"Mhm."

After breakfast, they changed and, ten minutes later, stepped out of the apartment side by side—two impeccably dressed titans of industry.

To the outside world, they were just another couple in the city, commuting together.

Except their battlefield was the entire world.

...

Time was the ultimate witness.

A year passed.

Lu Chenyuan’s name appeared less and less in the media.

In his place stood Lin Yuan, Abyssal Dragon Tech’s co-CEO, who became a steady presence at business summits and events.

He was calm, pragmatic, sparing with words—but every one carried weight.

He executed Lu Chenyuan’s vision flawlessly, becoming the company’s unshakable public face.

Meanwhile, Lu Chenyuan receded into the shadows like a ghost.

He gave no interviews, attended no public functions.

Jingzhou’s business circles gradually lost track of him.

But the legends about him only grew.

Some said he’d succumbed to indulgence, keeping a hidden lover.

Others claimed his ambition had burned out, that he was preparing to retire.

No one knew the truth: this man was reshaping the future in ways beyond imagination.

"Verdant Tech" lurked like a leviathan in the deep, silently devouring the vast funds funneled from Abyssal Dragon Tech, diving ever deeper into the abyss of foundational science.

"Ridge Tech" spread like a global net, binding Abyssal Dragon’s products and standards to suppliers and markets worldwide.

As for the much-mocked "vocational college," its first cohort of two hundred students had completed their foundational coursework.

They weren’t sent to assembly lines for internships.

Instead, Lu Chenyuan spent a fortune to dispatch them collectively to A Country, J Country, H Country—nations with the world’s most advanced semiconductor industries—for a six-month "research exchange."

The decision ignited another media frenzy.

"Abyssal Dragon Tech has lost its mind!"

"They’re funding their competitors’ talent pool!"

"What is Lu Chenyuan thinking?"

The uproar never reached Lu Chenyuan’s ears.

Today, he and Mo Qingli were at a farm on the outskirts of Jingzhou.

It was strawberry-picking season.

Lu Chenyuan carried the basket while Mo Qingli did the selecting.

She wore a beige casual outfit and a straw hat, her face relaxed and smiling.

Plucking the ripest strawberry, she wiped it lightly and popped it straight into Lu Chenyuan’s mouth.

"Sweet?" she asked, tilting her face up at him.

"Sweet," he replied, chewing as he gazed into her eyes.

The sunlight caught her face, but her eyes outshone it.

"They all say you’ve gone mad," Mo Qingli said, picking another strawberry for herself.

"Mhm," Lu Chenyuan answered absently.

"Sending our brightest minds straight to our competitors."

"You’ll never build the best car by working behind closed doors," he said.

"How can you see farther than giants unless you stand on their shoulders?"

"I’m not sending them to steal technology."

"I’m sending them to learn, to experience, to understand—how those a hundred steps ahead took each of those steps."

"To study their management, their standards, their trial and error."

"These are things you’ll never grasp locked in a lab."

Mo Qingli listened quietly.

She knew this man was playing a long game—so vast that he was willing to bear the scorn and pay an exorbitant price.

"Chenyuan," she said softly.

"Yes?"

"Are you doing all this for Abyssal Dragon, or for…" She trailed off.

Lu Chenyuan was silent for a moment.

His eyes drifted to the horizon, where the sky stretched endlessly blue.

"Qingli, I’ve told you about the village where I grew up."

"I remember."

"It was poor, but the people were kind. They believed education was the only way out. The village’s lone schoolteacher held on for forty years—taught hundreds of students."

"He used to say something."

"He said every student he sent out was like planting a tree."

"Hundreds of trees, taking root elsewhere. One day, a whole forest might return to shelter that village."

Lu Chenyuan turned back to look at Mo Qingli.

"I'm not that teacher. But I want to learn from him—to be someone who plants trees."

Mo Qingli's heart was gently stirred.

She stepped forward and took his hand.

"Then I'll stay with you," she said. "I'll help you water them, nourish them."

Lu Chenyuan tightened his grip around hers.

"Alright."