The River of Time (Continued)

Another year passed.

Lu Chenyuan's tree-planting plan began on a more covert level.

Zhang Qi became the executor of this plan.

Under the identity of chairman for a newly established "Horizon International Talent Exchange Foundation," he began frequently traveling between top universities and research institutions in Country A, Country Y, and others.

On the surface, this foundation was a branch of the Horizon Charity Foundation, dedicated to academic exchange.

In reality, its sole purpose was to make contact with Xia Kingdom scientists who had already achieved world-class success overseas.

The first attempts at contact often ended in failure.

"I appreciate your kindness. But my lab at MIT is among the best in the world. My team, my projects—they're all here. Returning home? What would I even do there?"

This was the blunt response from a Nobel Prize-level biologist.

"The research environment back home is still too chaotic. It's all KPIs and grant applications everywhere. I just want to focus on my work in peace."

This was the concern voiced by a rising star in artificial intelligence.

Zhang Qi didn’t argue.

He simply handed them detailed documents.

There were no hollow patriotic slogans, no empty promises.

Only the achievements of "Verdant Technologies" over the past two years.

The no-expense-spared investments in fundamental research.

The project management systems designed to put scientists first, free from bureaucratic interference.

The compensation and equity incentive plans personally crafted by Lu Chenyuan—so generous they bordered on extravagant.

And a blueprint spanning dozens of pages, detailing the future of their laboratories.

From equipment to team structure to living arrangements, everything was meticulously laid out.

"Chairman Lu says he can’t immediately offer you a world-class lab," Zhang Qi calmly relayed Lu Chenyuan’s words.

"But he promises to cultivate the most fertile, most unrestrained soil for research in the world."

"We don’t have a phoenix tree yet, but we’re working tirelessly to enrich the ground."

"We believe that if the soil is good enough, the trees will grow, blossom, and eventually attract the phoenix."

Most scientists remained hesitant.

But the ice of skepticism had begun to crack.

A few seeds had quietly been planted in their minds.

Zhang Qi reported every detail of these responses back to Lu Chenyuan.

Lu Chenyuan listened calmly, as if he had expected nothing less.

"Zhang Qi, that policy proposal we submitted through the third-party think tank—'Recommendations for Optimizing the Environment for Attracting Top Scientific Talent'—any updates?" Lu Chenyuan asked casually.

"Yes," Zhang Qi’s eyes brightened slightly.

"The report reportedly landed on the desks of relevant department heads. A few days ago, I heard through indirect channels that a new round of policies to support scientific talent is in the works—many of the ideas align with our proposal."

"Good." Lu Chenyuan nodded, his gaze drifting to the window.

"Our job is to identify problems and propose viable solutions. Whether they’re adopted, and how—that’s up to them. We stick to our role and focus on what we do best."

Zhang Qi understood.

This was Lu Chenyuan’s guiding principle:

Stay sharp enough to sense the shifting tides, offer professional recommendations, but never overstep or meddle—always keeping a safe distance from the whirlpool.

......

Over these two years, Lu Chenyuan and Mo Qingli’s life had settled into a rhythm as serene as a gentle poem.

In spring, they visited the farm in the suburbs.

In summer, they spent days by the sea, watching sunrises and sunsets.

In autumn, they wandered through art galleries and museums.

In winter, they curled up at home, each with a book and a cup of hot tea, passing entire afternoons in quiet companionship.

Lu Chenyuan’s cooking had improved remarkably.

He had even mastered the intricacies of Suzhou and Cantonese cuisine.

Mo Qingli’s cheeks had grown slightly rounder under his care.

She, too, had learned to boil eggs, scramble them, and fry them…

Though her fried eggs always seemed to lack that final touch of perfection.

Still, Lu Chenyuan cleaned his plate every time.

Their love held no earth-shattering vows, no grand, dramatic passion.

It grew like a plant in silent time—roots deepening into the soil, leaves flourishing with quiet resilience.

They had woven themselves into each other’s lives, becoming as essential as air and water.

Lu Chenyuan and Mo Qingli’s Skyline One apartment had subtly become a haven for those closest to them.

Lu Ruoxi and Su Yang were frequent guests.

In fact, whenever they visited, Su Yang took over the kitchen entirely—a fact that raised him slightly in Lu Chenyuan’s estimation.

Still, Su Yang found himself increasingly unable to read his brother-in-law.

The man seemed to grow more composed, yet also more inscrutable.

Lu Qianqian spent barely any time in the country these days.

But whenever she returned, she insisted on a home-cooked meal by her eldest brother at Skyline One.

The only relief for Lu Chenyuan this year?

When Lu Qianqian came back, Ji Wushuang finally married her.

Lu Chenyuan finally realized it had been a false alarm back then.

When Ji Wushuang got married, Lu Chenyuan gifted her an exceptionally large red envelope.

Upon seeing the amount, Ji Wushuang wondered if he had accidentally added an extra zero.

As if reading her thoughts, Lu Chenyuan explained it was "compensation for companionship."

Occasionally, Lin Yuan and Ren Qian would visit their home together.

The two had officially become a couple.

However, their workloads seemed overwhelmingly busy, as they showed no immediate plans for marriage.

As for Lu Chenyuan, Mo Qingli knew that beneath the surface of their seemingly peaceful days, he was quietly orchestrating a grand scheme—one so vast that she hesitated to let anything disrupt it.

After rediscovering herself, Lou Mengling underwent a spiritual transformation, displaying a late-blooming brilliance in her art.

A gallery in Haizhou took notice of her paintings.

The gallery’s owner, partly drawn to her work and partly to her social standing, personally visited multiple times to discuss collaboration.

Lou Mengling, being perceptive, soon sensed that his interest in her had taken on a different tone.

Unsure how to proceed, she instinctively drove to her eldest son’s home.

Lu Chenyuan was aware of the man’s existence but refrained from commenting on his mother’s personal affairs.

After preparing a meal for her, he simply said, "Mom, you deserve every good thing in this world. And we’re never afraid of taking chances."

Seeing her son as her unwavering shelter, Lou Mengling’s worries melted away.

Her three younger sons seemed reluctant to intrude, though Lu Chenjin occasionally visited for work-related matters.

...

Year Three.

The winds of global politics began to shift.

Country A, citing "national security," imposed sanctions on several Xia-tech companies.

Though the fire hadn’t yet reached the giant Abyss Dragon Technologies, the air was thick with tension.

The golden age of globalized trade was visibly coming to an end.

The Xia business world braced for turmoil.

Companies heavily reliant on overseas supply chains and markets saw their stocks plummet, plunging into crisis.

Only then did people recall Abyss Dragon’s seemingly "reckless" moves three years prior.

The first graduates of the Abyss Dragon Vocational Institute had returned home.

They hadn’t become masters, but they brought back invaluable experience, advanced ideas, and a sober awareness of the gaps.

Domestic tech firms scrambled to hire them at staggering salaries.

They became the most precious sparks in the darkness.

Abyss Dragon itself retained less than a tenth of them.

Because greater talents were arriving.

The Nobel-caliber biologist who had initially hesitated finally emailed Zhang Qi:

"I’ve seen your sincerity—and the changing external landscape."

"My project requires a new, safer environment."

"If your offer still stands, my team is ready to return."

The first towering tree had chosen to come home.

It was only the beginning.

Over the next few months, over a dozen world-class Xia scientists accepted invitations from Verdant Technologies.

The groundwork Lu Chenyuan had laid three years ago was finally welcoming its phoenixes.

Unseen by most, Abyss Dragon had completed its most critical maneuvers.

Its roots, through Verdant Technologies, ran deep into Xia’s foundational tech soil.

Its branches, via Summit Technologies, remained intertwined with the world.

It had become an indomitable, indispensable entity—both paradoxical and formidable.

...

The day was Lu Chenyuan’s birthday.

Mo Qingli didn’t throw a lavish party.

Instead, she cooked a modest but heartfelt meal and ordered a small cake.

Their apartment held just the two of them.

Beyond the window, Jingzhou’s skyline glittered.

On TV, the financial news broadcast breaking updates:

"Country A’s Commerce Department announced sweeping export controls on Xia’s semiconductor, AI, and other critical sectors at dawn today. Thirty-seven Xia firms, including Abyss Dragon Technologies, were added to the Entity List..."

The anchor’s grave voice filled the quiet living room.

The storm had arrived—more ferociously than anyone anticipated.

Mo Qingli muted the TV.

Silence settled.

She looked at Lu Chenyuan.

His face showed no surprise or panic.

Only a tranquil relief, as if saying: At last, it’s here.

"Happy birthday, A-Yuan." She raised her glass with a smile.

"Thank you." He clinked his glass gently against hers.

The crisp sound was like a final salute to the end of an era.

"They all say Xia Country's tech industry is about to face its coldest winter," Mo Qingli murmured softly.

"Indeed," Lu Chenyuan replied, taking a sip of red wine. "But we aren’t afraid of the cold."

He set down his glass and took her hand.

"Three years ago, I started planting trees."

"Now that winter has come, our trees have grown tall."

"They may not yet be lush, but they are strong enough to shelter us through this winter."

His gaze met hers, deep and tender.

"And when winter arrives, can spring be far behind?"

Mo Qingli smiled.

She rose, stepped closer to him, and leaned down to press her lips against his.

Outside, the wind howled and rain lashed against the windows.

Inside, warmth bloomed like an eternal spring.

The night would be long.

But they knew—when the sun rose, a new era would dawn with it.

An era that belonged to them.

An era of grandeur and boundless promise.