Chapter 41

Chapter 41

In the tense standoff, the foster parents didn't notice anything amiss. The foster mother, though indifferent to Shen Gali's fate, put on a show of concern, grinning exaggeratedly:

"Son-in-law, you care so much about our Gali. As his mother, I find it truly heartwarming."

Shen Lanqing let out a light snicker: "Yeah, so caring that he caught a cold in the dog days of summer. Brother Jing's concern could make it into a joke book."

The foster mother was startled by this provocation, unsure why Shen Lanqing had suddenly lost his mind. She quickly shot him a look to shut him up.

Though she doted on this long-lost son, today's occasion wasn't one where he could act up—everything depended on Nan Liujing's mood.

Nan Liujing ignored the remark entirely, like Shen Lanqing wasn't even there. He gestured to the foster parents with a "please" motion: "You must be exhausted from the journey. Uncle Li made dinner for you all."

With that, he had Uncle Li bring them hot towels to wipe their hands.

As the foster mother dried her hands, she admired how Nan Liujing had taste—the interior was simple yet elegant.

The foster father, also wiping his hands, kept looking up the stairs and asked softly, "How is Li Li now? Still running a fever? If shots don't help, try cooling him down."

Even during the meal, while the foster mother praised Uncle Li's cooking, the foster father carefully peeled shrimp and took out fish bones, worried it'd get cold. He put it in a bowl and covered it and instructed, "If Li Li doesn't feel like eating, could you please ask the butler to make him some seafood congee? He doesn't eat much fish usually—he hates picking out bones. His picky eating makes him undernourished and prone to illness..."

As Gong Yuan spoke, tears welled up uncontrollably.

Once Lanqing was acknowledged as family and came back, his wife insisted on throwing Li Li out to fend for himself. As a live-in son-in-law, he had no say. He begged her day and night until she got sick of it and barely agreed to let Li Li stay in the suburbs.

When the family business faced a crisis, his wife planned to marry Li Li off to the Nan family—to the notoriously bad eldest son, no less. Again, he had no voice.

This time, even if he nagged her till she went deaf, she wouldn't change her mind. All he could do was pray to the moon about it.

He had seen the news about Li Li online. He knew the kid was used to living large, and suddenly having all his money cut off must be rough. Worst of all, the son-in-law didn't seem to treat him right. After months of marriage, he had only brought Li Li back to his foster parents' home twice, and his wife kept a close watch, so he had no clue how Li Li was doing.

He'd failed as a dad—he was no good.

The more Gong Yuan thought about it, the more miserable he felt. Staring at the feast, knowing Shen Gali was sick in bed, his tears burst out like a flood.

The foster mother was speechless. What a moron—making a fool of himself in front of the son-in-law.

She stabbed the tip of her stiletto heel into Gong Yuan's shoe, silently telling him off: "Don't embarrass me."

Nan Liujing saw all of Gong Yuan's pathetic show, but he stayed completely calm, not even making fun of him. Instead, he waved Uncle Li over and whispered:

"Take the fish and shrimp that my father-in-law peeled for Shen Gali to the kitchen and cook them into a congee. Add some fresh greens. Once it's done, send it up to him and make sure he takes his meds."

Gong Yuan watched Uncle Li carry away the fish and shrimp, finally stopped crying.

Nan Liujing never made promises to anyone, and he never needed anyone's approval. Today, he said firmly:

"Father-in-law, rest assured. I'll help Gali get over his picky eating from now on."

Gong Yuan couldn't help grasping Nan Liujing's hand, tears of gratitude streaming as he nodded repeatedly: "Good son-in-law, what a good son-in-law!"

The foster mother rolled her eyes dramatically. If not for the guests, she'd have taken off her shoe and knocked some sense into him.

Dinner almost done, it was time to talk about why they really came.

The foster mother elegantly wiped the corners of her mouth, beaming: "Son-in-law, how's the company doing these days? I heard Huanhai Electronics just landed the government's bidding project for the Ring Sea Expressway. This time, you must be making a killing."

Nan Liujing looked down, cutting his steak casually: "Mm, small business, nothing special."

The foster mother gasped inside. Small business? Clearly, Huanhai Electronics was filthy rich, didn't even think the Ring Sea Expressway was a big deal. Once the road was built, traveling out of the province would be much easier, and just the tolls would be crazy profitable.

She fingered her fingertips nervously and smiled awkwardly: "If our family had the backing of Huanhai Group, we wouldn't be worried about such trivial matters."

The foster mother said this because her company, desperate to revive itself, planned to invest in a new project. The project was currently hot, with a bright future ahead, and companies big and small were eyeing this fat piece of meat. Even getting a slice would set them up for life.

But the competition was crazy. A rival company had already bid 200 million for the investment agency rights, while her own company, drowning in debt after the economic crisis, couldn't scrape together 20 million, let alone 200. Selling everything they owned still wouldn't cover it.

But she was short on funds—didn't they have their golden son-in-law?

Regardless of how genuine Nan Liujing's feelings were for Shen Gali, he ought to show some respect to his mother-in-law. Besides, 200 million wasn't much for him; he could toss it without thinking.

"Son-in-law, have you heard of the S2 project from the Research Institute? I heard from insiders that it's a new project their top team spent seven years developing. Once launched, nearly half the country's population will benefit from it."

Nan Liujing: "I know."

The foster mother's heart leaped with hope. She quickly added, "What do you think of the project? I've looked into it—if it's successful, it'll earn at least this much."

She held up a "5" with one hand and a "0" with the other.

Nan Liujing seemed unenthusiastic: "Is that so."

The foster mother nodded eagerly: "But you know, it's a big piece of meat. Everyone's fighting for it, so..."

Nan Liujing finally lifted his noble head, meeting her gaze with a cool, distant expression: "Mother-in-law, do you need funds?"

The foster mother grinned from ear to ear: "It's just a temporary cash flow issue. But if you're willing to invest, the investor's name would definitely come first..."

Before she could finish, Nan Liujing interrupted: "Mother-in-law, a few days ago was Gali's birthday. Did you send him a birthday greeting or a gift?"

Foster mother: ?

That was a sudden sharp turn, almost shooting out of the atmosphere.

"I've celebrated over twenty birthdays with Gali. It just so happened that the company was busy recently, and I forgot once by accident. That's normal, right? Don't worry, son-in-law, once this busy period passes, I'll definitely make it up to him," the foster mother said.

Nan Liujing was silent for a moment, then let out an ambiguous chuckle. The smile cut like a needle, stabbing into the foster mother's heart.

Her smile froze. Her voice went hollow: "Son-in-law, what... what's wrong?"

Nan Liujing took a slow sip of tea, looking down at the foster mother and said arrogantly. His thin lips parted, and his voice was icy: "Mother-in-law, you probably don't know me well. I assess risks before I act. I never take on a battle unprepared."

"First, I've looked into the project you mentioned. The research team is indeed top-tier in the country, and the quality is guaranteed. But they're researchers, not businessmen—they don't understand the market. According to my projections, within three years of launch, the curve will show a short-term surge followed by a long-term plunge, eventually hitting rock bottom—a total loss."

The foster mother's mouth fell open, like she couldn't believe it.

If what Nan Liujing said was true, why would so many companies be fighting to invest?

"Those were the objective reasons. Now let me talk about the subjective factors."

The foster mother's smile had completely vanished. She knew she had received a clear refusal. The rest—whatever subjective factors—was irrelevant to her.

Nan Liujing leisurely straightened his cuffs, his tone as casual as if discussing what to have for dinner.

"Besides evaluating the product's market risk, I also evaluate the risks on both sides of the credit."

Foster mother: I don't understand. But by "credit sides," does he mean him and me? So this money would have to be considered a loan?

Nan Liujing said in a low voice, "Your mother-in-law’s company is heavily in debt, and you’ve already been named as a court enforcement target. To be honest, it’s easy for me to bail out your company, and I don’t need this money."

His voice grew colder: "But that’s only because you’re Jiali’s mother. However, if you don’t even know your son’s birthday, you walk into his sickroom without a single word of concern, and you refuse to take a picture with him at his graduation—just because he’s the wrong son who was swapped in—then I have no obligation to help you."

The adoptive mother’s eyes flew open, as if the stool had grown a thousand tiny thorns, making her squirm in her seat.

That bastard Shen Gali! He’s even learned to snitch!

"Even though he’s not your biological son, when Gali was sick and feverish, he kept crying out ‘Mom.’"

Nan Liujing’s voice softened slightly.

He suddenly remembered the woman who had taken her own life in a fit of madness. In one of her rare moments of clarity, she had sewn a doll for her son as a birthday gift.

And then, he remembered what he was thinking when he personally removed the oxygen mask from his own mother.

I loved her so much I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer any longer.

Though no one understood, every child loves and depends on their mother deeply.

In the hardest times, the happiest times, the first person they think of is their mother. The world has many languages, but "mother" is the only word that sounds the same in every language.

Maybe because of what he said, the adoptive mother suddenly fell into a heavy silence, staring at the floor, lost in thought.

Nan Liujing called Uncle Li over, whispered something in his ear, and Uncle Li brought over a checkbook.

Nan Liujing tore out a check, signed his name, stamped it with his personal seal, and pushed it across to Gong Yuan:

"Father-in-law, you can write in any amount you want. But I want to be clear: this money is only for daily expenses, not for investment or paying off debts. I’ll keep a record of every expense. That’s it."

With that, Nan Liujing put his hand on the wheelchair armrest: "I’m full. I’m going to rest. Do whatever you like."

Watching Nan Liujing walk away without looking back, the atmosphere was unbearably awkward, even humiliating.

Maybe only Gong Yuan felt humiliated. The adoptive mother leaned in and whispered, "Write it, quick—write as much as you can. At least take care of the debt first. We can clean the money afterward."

Gong Yuan kept his head down, veins popping on his neck, silent.

The adoptive mother shoved him impatiently, her voice shrill: "Write! You’re always good at making us look bad, but now you’re like a log!"

"I won't write." Gong Yuan's voice trembled.

"Are you crazy or what? Do you think a massive corporation like the Nan family will ever give you another blank check? They’re rich, but they’re not fools! Write!"

"Bang!" Gong Yuan suddenly stood up and slammed the pen onto the table.

His eyes were wide, bloodshot with rage, and his chest heaved violently.

The adoptive mother was startled and snapped, "What’s gotten into you? You scared me to death!"

Gong Yuan, no longer caring that they were in someone else's home, roared furiously: "How can you have the nerve to write that?! Can you sleep at night knowing you’re spending money from selling your son?! I won't write, and don't you even think about it!"

With that, he furiously ripped up the check and threw it in the trash.

Amid the fierce quarreling of his parents, Shen Lanqing looked up wearily toward the upstairs.

This time, Nan Liujing had humiliated not only his parents’ pride but also wounded his own fragile young heart.

Shen Lanqing’s dark side rose to 70%—

*

Upstairs.

As soon as Nan Liujing entered the room, he saw Shen Gali still folding paper cranes exactly where he had started. Uncle Li was grumbling beside him, but Shen Gali ignored him completely.

Nan Liujing let out a soft laugh through his nose, and shook his head.

In fact, although Shen Gali always complained when given orders, he still did them. Not necessarily perfectly, but at least he could ensure the task was completed.

Seeing Nan Liujing, Uncle Li tactfully got up and seized the chance to complain: "The porridge is almost cold, but Mr. Shen won’t eat no matter what I say."

Nan Liujing nodded slowly: "I understand. Go and see the guests out."

After Uncle Li left, Nan Liujing approached Shen Gali, examining the new paper cranes.

They were obviously folded wrong—the wings couldn’t even open.

But at least he had finished seven, bringing the total with the ones in the box to exactly ten thousand.

"Your parents are still downstairs. Don't you want to go down and see them?" Nan Liujing asked.

Shen Gali didn't look up: "No."

If it were just Gong Yuan, he might have taken a glance from the stairs, but with that woman there, forget it.

Nan Liujing was a little curious: "Last time you were sick, you mumbled that you wanted your mom. Why won't you see her now?"

Shen Gali responded with his brainwaves: If she can’t recognize who I am, I don’t have to recognize her.

Seeing that he didn't want to answer, Nan Liujing didn't press further. His gaze drifted to the bowl of porridge on the table. It had been sitting too long, and the surface had semi-solidified.

He picked up the bowl, stirred the porridge gently with a spoon, and handed it over: "You haven't eaten much all day. Eat, then take your medicine."

No matter who came today, Shen Gali only had one answer: "I won't eat."

Nan Liujing frowned, about to habitually pull out his big boss authority and order him, but the memory of Shen Gali's aggrieved tears flashed through his mind, and the commanding words died in his throat.

Shen Gali was the most difficult person he had ever dealt with.

But then he remembered the live art class he had watched earlier. Since the students were all kindergarten kids with only a few tens of minutes of effective attention span, the art teacher used small tricks to capture the children's attention—like competitions.

Nan Liujing cleared his throat and sat up straight.

"Shen Gali, let's have a competition."

Shen Gali: ?

What's he going on about in broad daylight?

"I'll eat too. Let's see who finishes first." Nan Liujing's lips curled into a confident smile.

No way he wouldn’t take the bait.

Shen Gali didn't look up: "Oh, you win. I forfeit."

Nan Liujing: …

Shen Gali: "If you eat all of this, I'll give you a sticker."

Nan Liujing: …

I've never been so speechless. Both my self-esteem and confidence took a hit.

But if he doesn't eat meals and take medicine on time, his recovery will be very slow.

Suddenly, a bizarre idea popped into Nan Liujing's head.

Ten minutes later.

Nan Liujing held out his phone: "Someone's video-calling you."

Shen Gali: "Say I'm asleep."

"Sure, I'll pass that on to Bai Wei." Nan Liujing made as if to decline the call.

The next second, a white shadow flashed past, pushed him aside to grab the phone, and while quickly fixing her hair, answered it instantly.

On the video, Bai Wei was wearing a simple white T-shirt with her hair tied up in a high ponytail, the curls bouncing at the back of her head, looking as youthful as a college student on campus.

Shen Gali sat up straight, his cheeks flushed—whether from the low fever or something else, they were a little red and warm.

"Sister Baiwei," he said shyly.

Nan Liujing was dumbfounded. Shen Gali actually voluntarily greeted someone?

The speed at which he snatched the phone was so fast it left a blur.

Bai Wei smiled, eyes crinkling: "Jiali, good evening. President Nan mentioned you're sick. How are you feeling? Any better?"

Shen Gali nodded in reply. "Much better. Don't worry, Sister Baiwei."

Bai Wei held up the small fork in her hand, a piece of cake with a cherry on it. She tilted her head playfully: "I'm having a little cake—I made it myself. Next time I see you, I'll bring you some to try."

Shen Gali nodded eagerly. "I love cake more than anything. I feel awful if I don't have it for a day."

Nan Liujing: ?

That's got to be the real Shen Gali on the bed, right? Not some impostor?

"When you're sick, you need to eat more, try to eat light, and take your medicine on time so you can recover quickly," Bai Wei said with a smile.

Out of camera view, Shen Gali reached over, grabbed the bowl of porridge, scooped a big spoonful right in front of the lens, and took a spoonful.

"I'm just having dinner. This is my second bowl already. Oh, and about the medicine—" Shen Gali grabbed the pill case and downed the meds with practiced ease, chugging several big gulps of water.

"That's my good boy," Bai Wei said, resting her chin on her hand, looking at him with a bright smile. She was elegant and lovely, just like the Lisianthus arrangement on the table behind her.

They chatted, and before long, the large bowl of porridge was empty.

Nan Liujing: I can't quite put my finger on what's weird, but it's definitely weird.

It was getting late. After confirming that Shen Gali had finished the porridge, Bai Wei chatted with him a bit more before saying she needed to get some rest—she had a schedule the next day.

Shen Gali nodded, and even after she hung up, he kept staring at the screen, lost in a daze.

Nan Liujing heard his phone vibrate, pulled it out, and saw a message from Bai Wei:

"President Nan, I appreciate you going to the trouble. If Jiali doesn't feel like eating, you can video-call me like you did today, and I'll make sure he eats."

Nan Liujing: "Thanks for your help."

He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Even his adoptive parents couldn't talk him into it, yet one phone call from Bai Wei did the trick. Strange, really strange.

Figuring that any topic about Bai Wei would get Shen Gali's interest, Nan Liujing asked:

"Why are you so close with Bai Wei?"

Shen Gali: "What's it to you?"

Nan Liujing got it: it wasn't that he was interested in topics about Bai Wei—he was only interested in Bai Wei herself.

*

The next morning, Uncle Li took Shen Gali's temperature. It was 37.6°C. Mostly back to normal, but still a slight fever.

"Today, the young master has to go to the office, so he can't stay home with you. I also have some errands to run. A doctor will come by to check on you later. Mr. Shen, please don't go anywhere today; rest at home. If you need anything, just text me. I'll be back in the afternoon."

Uncle Li carefully tucked the blanket around him while giving instructions.

Shen Gali: Oh, say thanks to Nan Liujing for me, and thank you too.

As August drew to a close, the hottest part of the year gradually passed. Now, the early mornings and late evenings carried a faint chill.

Before leaving for work, Nan Liujing came in and sat for a while. He didn't say anything, just sat by the bed staring at the floor, lost in thought.

Even with his back turned, Shen Gali could feel his gaze and it made his skin crawl.

"Get out," Shen Gali said bluntly, starting to kick him out.

Nan Liujing had lived nearly thirty years and had never encountered such an absurd situation—this was his house, and he was being kicked out?

"Is this house in your name? If anyone should leave, it's you."

Shen Gali ignored him. He sniffled—his nose was stuffed up from the cold.

But to Nan Liujing, that sound was a sob.

Again... crying?

Nan Liujing was silent for a moment, his tone losing its earlier confidence, now awkward as if he were the one who had overstayed his welcome.

"Sorry, I meant..."

How was he supposed to explain that last remark?

"I was... just saying." Nan Liujing really couldn't lie. After thinking for a long time, he finally gave up. "My tone was off. That last sentence wasn't from the heart. Don't cry."

Shen Gali: ?

What is he talking about? So weird.

Having seen Shen Gali cry once, he didn't want to see it a second time. Shen Gali didn't respond, so he just sat by the bed, even as Uncle Li called him from downstairs again and again.

When no one came down, Uncle Li went upstairs to check. He found his young master sitting by the bed, one hand on his forehead, brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Young master, Mr. Yang the driver has been waiting outside for a while. It's time to leave for work."

Nan Liujing raised his eyes to the frail back. He swallowed, and after a long while, he said in a low voice, "Go check if Shen Gali is still crying."

Uncle Li went around to face the man, examined him carefully, and said respectfully, "Young master, Mr. Shen has fallen asleep. And very peacefully at that."

Nan Liujing: ...

What a waste of feelings.

...

Shen Gali always seemed to wake up to his phone vibrating; without it, he probably would have stayed glued to the bed.

It was Director He calling, his voice tinged with joy:

"Xiao Shen, Lancer brand just called me. They’ve confirmed you for the jewelry ad and want to know if you’re free today to discuss the contract details."

Shen Gali asked in return, "If we sign the contract, will Sister Baiwei be there?"

"Of course, she's the spokesperson, so she'll be there in person."

Though still running a slight fever, Shen Gali forced himself to sit up and eat some porridge and medicine.

The high fever had just subsided, leaving his body limp, and the floor tiles felt like cotton beneath his feet, giving no solid support.

But his mood was unusually high. He spent a long time primping in front of the mirror, then pulled out the keychain Bai Wei had given him. Even though he didn't need a bag, just so he could attach the keychain, he took an empty bag and left.

The meeting was at Lancer's China agency office, a long distance away. It happened to be the rainy season, with rain pouring for three days straight. Worried about ruining his carefully styled hair in front of Bai Wei, Shen Gali hailed a taxi for the first time ever.

But when he arrived, he realized that Director He's "Bai Wei will be there in person" hadn't meant today. The endorsement contract was too important to be signed alongside his ad contract; it required a separate arrangement.

Shen Gali's smile vanished in an instant.

He stood in the rain, letting the cold raindrops beat against his face relentlessly.

...

Conference room.

At the head seat of the U-shaped long table sat a young man in a suit, with a prominent nose and red lips, his pale blue eyes like the waters of Fiji, clear and deep.

To his left sat a row of middle-aged and elderly men, all Westerners, dressed in suits, exuding nobility and elegance.

The other side of the table was sparsely occupied: only one young man sat at the enormous table, wearing a simple, thin white shirt with its hem loosely tucked, paired with plain light-wash jeans that were utterly out of sync with fashion.

In such a formal setting, he hadn't even bothered to wear formal attire. The old men shook their heads in unison, but their opinions carried no weight, and their gazes eventually fell on the man in the center.

Evan was also waiting, his eyes shifting to the casually dressed man.

Signing was usually just a formality, but he hadn't expected someone to actually read through the thick contract word by word, slowly, sometimes flipping back to understand the clauses in context.

The middle-aged and elderly men across from him had waited nearly an hour, frequently checking their watches, and finally exchanged helpless glances, shrugging and slouching, their impatience clear.

The elderly man closest to Evan couldn't help tapping the file, signaling with his eyes for him to hurry Shen Gali along—it was taking way too long, even carving intricate patterns wouldn't take this long.

Evan ignored his suggestion, sitting straight and dignified as at the start, idly toying with a pen, waiting quietly.

Two long hours passed. The old men across had dozed off from the wait. Shen Gali finally finished reading the contract.

Contract summary: He wasn't the spokesperson, just participating in the ad shoot. Pre-tax fee: 580,000 yuan.

After taxes, that came down to only 340,000 yuan.

Still, the amount wasn't the main issue. As long as the shoot went smoothly, so that his mother would get enough rest, he could manage with less.

Shen Gali slowly picked up the pen, ready to sign his name after "Party B"—

"Sorry, representative of Rose Ander, I have a question." Before he could write, an old man with graying hair and a beard raised his hand and asked in broken Chinese.

"Ask."

The man opened the file and pointed at the data: "According to recent market research, a large number of women aged fifteen to twenty have posted boycotts against Lancer. I believe this is related to changing the talent for the ad shoot."

Evan's eyes sharpened as he stared at the man, displeased. "So?"

"Women are the main purchasing power for Lancer Jewelry and the demographic we prioritize. If changing the talent leads to a brand boycott, doesn't that outweigh the gain? So I hope Mr. Shen can explain to the committee his advantage in participating in this shoot."

Shen Gali was speechless.

They called him here just to mess with him? Sign or not, whatever—still having to explain advantages? Annoying. So annoying.

He felt terrible now. The residual heat of the fever churned like a fireball in his chest, his breathing was labored, and the stuffy nose made him dizzy and unable to focus. That's why it took him two hours to read one document.

They were supposed to just sign and leave, but these people had to complicate everything.

Shen Gali didn't want to sign anymore. There were a thousand ways to take care of his mother. Worst case, he'd stay by the set during the shoot, and if the partner dawdled, he'd give them a death glare.

He stood up and said to the old men, "I see you're all quite dissatisfied with me. I'll take the hint and leave. I hope you quickly find a suitable talent."

The old men exchanged glances, their faces dark. They'd never seen anyone so arrogant—and he wasn't even a celebrity.

"You don't want to bother us? Fine, we're done here!" They angrily slammed down their files and prepared to leave.

"Hold on." As Shen Gali passed Evan, Evan grabbed his wrist.

Uncertain who the "hold on" was directed at, the men sat back down, scowling, muttering under their breaths.

But Shen Gali didn't want to stay. He felt terrible, his whole body ached, and he desperately needed to lie down.

"Sit down first. Give me a moment." Evan said softly to him.

"Everyone, I believe Mr. Shen has already demonstrated his advantage," Evan said, looking at the old men, his voice firm.

They were baffled.

Evan held up one finger: "Exactly—individuality."

Shen Gali: How... how did he figure that out?

"Not compromising with the mundane, pursuing authenticity—that's exactly the philosophy Lancer Jewelry has always championed: individuality, not following the crowd, being the world's one-of-a-kind brand."

"Uh..." Shen Gali tugged at his sleeve. "Don't misunderstand. That wasn't individuality; it was just plain rudeness."

"Mm, admitting you're rude is the most individual form of individuality I've ever seen." Evan sat down, pushed the contract forward, and made a "please" gesture.

"It's not individuality; it's pure rudeness," Shen Gali insisted.

Evan chuckled lightly. "See? Sticking to your opinion—also a hallmark of individuality."

Shen Gali: ... He didn't want to argue. Whatever you say.

"As for the issue of the boycott you mentioned, everyone, I don't think we need to worry too much." Evan elegantly crossed his legs, exuding confidence in every gesture.

According to previous years' data, Lancer's target audience is primarily middle-aged people aged forty and above who are established in their careers and have a stable life. Moreover, I don't believe that Lancer's pricing is affordable for the student demographic. So regarding the boycott by certain age groups, what we need to do is reduce the buzz and prevent the situation from escalating further, while everything else proceeds as usual."

Evan glanced at Shen Gali and continued talking to the old men, "Or if any of you have better suggestions, come to my office after the contract is signed."

At these words, the room went dead silent.

Since Evan said that, it meant that Shen Gali was the non-negotiable choice for the shoot. No objections, no objections—everything will be done as you require.

Shen Gali finally put his name on the contract.

The contract had two copies, one for each party. The shoot date would be announced later, and the fee would be deposited into Shen Gali's bank account within three days.

The signing meeting concluded. Shen Gali stood at the entrance, gazing at the pouring rain, lost in thought. Should he walk back or hail a cab?

With the over three million given by Nan Liujing, he now had four million in total. Could he treat himself to a small luxury and take a cab back?

No, he mustn't lose sight of the bigger picture. Sometimes, it was precisely that ten or twenty yuan that could lead to a fundamental change in outcome.

Just as he stepped into the rain, a silver Maybach pulled up in front of him. The driver's window rolled down, revealing a detached and aloof side profile. The bridge of his high nose and his chin formed a straight, slanted line. His exquisite, extraordinarily handsome features were like a close-up from an old foreign movie.

Evan said simply, "Get in, I'll give you a ride."

Shen Gali wasn't afraid of Evan having ulterior motives; after all, he had nothing left to lose.

He got in the car, sitting next to Evan, and was a little curious that the heir of the foremost of the ten great families would drive himself.

Feeling hot, Evan took off his suit jacket and tossed it into the back seat, sneaking a glance at the man beside him.

This man was rude and unruly, could make anyone furious in a second. Yet at the same time, there was something indescribable about him.

That day, after taking a motorcycle taxi back to the hotel and washing up, his mind had cleared a bit. Lying in bed, Evan replayed everything that had happened during the day.

What was it about this man—who didn't follow rules, was rude and willful—that made him so unforgettable?

To be fair, he had a good-looking face.

Just as it was difficult for Easterners to distinguish Westerners' appearances, when Evan first set foot on this land, he felt that almost everyone on the streets was cut from the same mold. He had been with the Chinese agency for over half a month and still couldn't tell the employees apart.

But Shen Gali was different from them.

As for the difference? Aside from his more refined features, his temperament seemed completely different.

Easterners always seemed to have high obedience and strong initiative, politeness, and humility. But Shen Gali didn't fit any of those descriptions.

He was laid-back, composed, indifferent to everything, like a fallen leaf in the torrent of the times—decadent yet vibrant.

People are always attracted to the kind of people they envy but can never become.

And the family he was born and raised in was full of rules and doctrines—what to wear, what to eat, what kind of person to marry... Ever since he could remember, his life had seemed to be boxed in by these constraints. And those around him followed the rules mechanically, like emotionless puppets. The scariest part was that they didn't see anything wrong with it.

Or perhaps when they sensed something amiss, they had already been thoroughly conditioned.

So, he found Shen Gali very special.

He wasn't lively or proactive, yet he had a knack for being striking.

He heard that Shen Gali was already married, but it was a business alliance, and his spouse was disabled, confined to a wheelchair for life.

Even a long illness can wear out filial piety, let alone for two people without an emotional foundation. Even if they were married, there was no rule that said they couldn't divorce and remarry.

Ah... how could it be that after only two meetings, he was already fantasizing about marriage?

While Evan was letting his mind wander from the beginning of the universe, Shen Gali had a terrible headache. Every time he coughed, the blood vessels in his head throbbed like they were about to burst.

The phone in his pocket vibrated incessantly, but he didn't have the energy to deal with it. He leaned against the car window, rubbing his temples wearily.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

"I'm sorry, the person you called is temporarily unavailable. Please try again later."

Nan Liujing put down his phone and looked up at the clock on the wall.

The twenty-eighth call, and still no answer.

That afternoon, the doctor had come to check on Shen Gali, but no one answered the door no matter how hard he knocked and called, so he called Nan Liujing to ask about the situation.

Nan Liujing had just wrapped up a meeting and raced home at breakneck speed, afraid Shen Gali had passed out from the fever. But when he got inside, there was no trace of Shen Gali.

From two in the afternoon to five, twenty-eight calls and countless text messages, but Shen Gali had disappeared without a trace.