A New Beginning

Just as "Kaitian" quietly underwent its transformation,

Lu Chenyuan personally dismantled the empire he had built.

An announcement from Yuanlong Technology erupted globally without warning.

The content was brief yet earth-shattering:

Lu Chenyuan, founder of Yuanlong Technology, would transfer all his personal and family-held shares into a newly established trust committee jointly owned by the company's core employees.

Effective immediately, Lu Chenyuan would no longer hold any substantive position at Yuanlong Technology, retaining only a seat on the board. Moving forward, he would focus on long-term strategic research under the honorary title of "Chief Strategic Advisor."

Yuanlong Technology would now become a publicly managed company with no single controlling entity, jointly overseen by the committee and the board.

Shortly after, Hanqing Technology and Lianshan Technology followed suit, announcing the completion of management buyouts (MBOs) and officially becoming fully independent entities.

Thus, the colossal and enigmatic "Yuanlong System," which had once commanded the world's awe, disintegrated overnight.

Or perhaps, it had completed its final evolution.

Lu Chenyuan—once the architect of a commercial empire—had now become a purely spiritual leader.

With his own hands, he turned the kingdom he had built into fertile land open for all to cultivate.

He transformed it into a "public utility."

This news left all who had tried to analyze, emulate, or even oppose him in profound bewilderment.

They couldn't comprehend it. They couldn't understand why a man would willingly relinquish such immense wealth and power.

Only a handful, like Qin Ya, vaguely grasped Lu Chenyuan's true intentions.

He wasn't retreating.

He was, in the most radical way possible, constructing an impregnable firewall for Xia Country's tech industry.

An industrial alliance without a defined enemy or a target was the most indestructible of all.

...

The turbulence outside seemed to have no effect on the suite atop the Royal Grand Hotel.

Mo Qingli's pregnancy grew more visible by the day.

She still devoted two hours daily to handling the core affairs of the Mo Group.

Her directives remained precise and incisive.

But more often now, she radiated the gentle glow of an expectant mother.

She found herself increasingly at ease with "imbalance."

Occasionally, an urgent cross-border meeting would disrupt her routine, leaving her exhausted and irritable.

Yet whenever that happened, Lu Chenyuan would appear like a perfectly calibrated "balancer."

He never said, "Stop working, just rest."

Instead, he would bring her a bowl of warm soup after the meeting.

Or, when she massaged her temples, he would silently step behind her and gently press his fingers to her forehead.

Mo Qingli exhaled deeply after concluding a video conference with Mo Group's North American division, leaning back into the plush chair and instinctively rubbing her aching lower back.

Lu Chenyuan, who had been waiting nearby, wordlessly approached and slid a warm cushion behind her.

"Kicking again?" he asked softly, his palm resting over the thin fabric covering her rounded belly.

"No," Mo Qingli shook her head, taking his hand with a faint, resigned smile.

"He’s just reminding me it’s time to rest."

Without another word, Lu Chenyuan helped her up and guided her to the sofa by the window.

Kneeling before her, he lifted her slightly swollen legs onto his knees and began massaging them with just the right pressure.

The warmth of his hands and the perfect rhythm instantly eased her fatigue.

Mo Qingli watched his focused profile, her heart softening.

He never interfered with her work, yet he effortlessly smoothed out every wrinkle it left behind.

After the massage, he busied himself adjusting every detail in the room, ensuring her surroundings brought her peace.

Mo Qingli often reflected:

People said she was striving to balance career and life.

But in truth, the real equilibrium was this man beside her.

Whenever that thought crossed her mind, she couldn’t resist the urge to hold him.

Like now.

Her exhaustion had just faded when she glanced up and saw Lu Chenyuan standing by the window, arranging a bouquet.

The setting sun cast its glow across his face as he pondered which stem to place first in the vase.

The earnestness in his expression held an oddly endearing contrast—a man who once commanded storms now deliberating over flower placement.

All her restlessness dissolved in an instant.

She walked over and gently wrapped her arms around his neck from behind.

"Let me," she said with a smile.

Lu Chenyuan yielded with a quiet chuckle.

Mo Qingli picked up the scissors and began trimming the stems.

Her movements were practiced and graceful—every branch and leaf seeming to come alive under her touch.

Lu Chenyuan stood nearby, watching in silent companionship.

"Chenyuan," she murmured while arranging the flowers, "about Yuanlong..."

"Hm?"

"Letting go of everything... do you regret it?"

He smiled.

His hand settled lightly over hers.

"I never intended to own it," he said gently.

"I only wanted to build it."

"Like what we’re doing now. I bring the flowers home, and you make them bloom into their most beautiful form."

"Whether this bouquet ends up in our living room or a friend’s house doesn’t matter."

"What matters is that we created this beauty together."

Mo Qingli paused and turned to look at him.

This man could always distill the profoundest philosophy into the simplest metaphors.

In his world, there was no "gain" or "loss"—only "creation" and "building."

She studied him, gazing into the tranquil depths of his eyes, and suddenly felt how fortunate the little life inside her was.

He would have such an extraordinary father.

Setting the flowers aside, she leaned against his shoulder.

"Chenyuan."

"Yes?"

"When An'an is born, you’ll teach him chess, and I’ll teach him calligraphy. Alright?"

"Alright."

"And when he’s older, we’ll take him traveling—to Africa for the great migration, to the Arctic for the northern lights."

"Alright."

"What if he doesn’t like any of that? What if he just wants to be a chef or a carpenter?"

Lu Chenyuan bent down and pressed a tender kiss to her rounded belly.

"Then I’ll strive to be his first—and most loyal—customer."

Mo Qingli laughed.

The dying sunlight stretched their silhouettes long across the floor.

Outside the window, the world was changing dramatically because of them.

But inside, there was only the ordinary rhythm of married life—seasoned with simple joys and boundless dreams for the future.

As if everything they had done was ultimately meant to safeguard this very moment of quiet contentment.