Chapter 100

M Country, Lozz Branch Office

Su Jianpeng strode into the chairman’s office, his expression dark. A group trailed behind him, each holding a tablet, their faces grim—as if they were raiding a house.

And in a sense, they were. Lozz’s global product launch—originally scheduled for next week—had been preempted by a rival company, RA, who released an identical AI robot just yesterday. The only difference was the exterior design; every other function and service was the same.

As soon as Su Jianpeng got the news, he flew in from Hong Kong like his seat was on fire, rushing to M Country to meet Xie Huai and handle the crisis.

When he pushed open the door, Xie Huai was calmly reviewing documents behind his desk. He looked up at the sound but remained as composed as ever—no trace of panic, even though someone had stolen the core of his company’s work.

After all, Su Jianpeng had known him for ten years. Xie Huai was always like this—unshakably calm. Born into privilege, he could’ve relied on his family’s empire, but instead he’d chosen to build Lozz himself. And strangely, he’d never once used his family’s influence; every deal the company had was personally negotiated by him, piece by piece.

If you didn’t know his age, you’d think he was a hardened middle-aged man—ruthless, detached, as if his emotions had long been severed.

“The employees involved in leaking trade secrets have all been handed over to the investigation team,” Su Jianpeng said. “The data from our central hub only passes through your hands and mine. How the hell did RA get it and apply it so precisely?”

“I gave it to them,” Xie Huai replied evenly.

“…What?”

Not just Su—everyone behind him froze. That one sentence sounded like a confession ready to be used in court.

Just then, the executive assistant entered with a stack of files. “The data thief was an assistant in the admin department. He got into gambling debt, and RA paid him a million dollars to sell out. The boss found out a month ago and told us to cooperate—so RA could complete the theft.”

Su Jianpeng scanned the documents. They contained RA’s acquisition proposal. “So you’re… sewing someone else’s wedding gown?”

“Keep reading,” Xie Huai said calmly.

Su Jianpeng frowned and flipped a few more pages. “It’s just our data. What am I supposed to see?”

Xie Huai said nothing. Su Jianpeng looked again—closer this time—and suddenly noticed the errors. They were subtle, hidden so well even he hadn’t realized it.

And just like that, it all clicked. Xie Huai hadn’t been robbed—he’d set the trap himself.

RA, Lozz’s biggest rival, had always been the type to provoke—petty tricks every few days. Now, after swallowing that tainted data, they’d soon collapse under their own weight. When Lozz moved in to “rescue” them through acquisition, it would be game over.

Once RA went bankrupt and Lozz bought them out, Lozz would dominate the AI market completely. And as the majority shareholder, Xie Huai’s net worth would skyrocket.

Su Jianpeng exhaled deeply. “After years of this back-and-forth, I thought we’d keep killing each other forever. Turns out you’ve been waiting for this.”

Xie Huai lowered his gaze. “Didn’t want to waste any more time. Been waiting long enough.”

Su Jianpeng assumed he was talking about the acquisition and was about to reply when Xie Huai’s phone rang. Normally, he’d ignore all calls during meetings. But this time, he glanced at the screen, picked up immediately, and stepped to the window.

Curious, Su Jianpeng watched. Who could possibly make their unflappable chairman break his own rule?

“Boss,” the voice on the line said quickly, “Old Master Shen passed away.”

Xie Huai’s grip tightened around the phone. He closed his eyes, hiding the faint sting in his chest. The old man had been Qi Xu’s only family, the only Shen relative who ever kept in touch with him.

Now that he was gone, that fragile tie between Qi Xu and the Shen family had completely snapped.

Xie Huai knew—Old Master Shen was the only person Qi Xu truly cared about. Without him, Qi Xu’s world would feel unbearably empty.

“When’s the funeral?” Xie Huai asked, his voice hoarse.

“Three days from now.”

When the call ended, Xie Huai turned to Su. “I need to return home in three days.”

Su Jianpeng gaped. “You’re leaving at this critical moment?”

“I have important matters to handle,” Xie Huai replied. “Everything here will be arranged before I go.”

“Can’t it wait? The team needs you—”

“RA’s downfall is inevitable,” Xie Huai said quietly. “With or without me, it’ll happen. But if I don’t go back… I’ll regret it.”

He didn’t regret attending the funeral. What he regretted—once he arrived—was not leaving a day earlier.

Qi Xu hadn’t joined the Shen family in hosting the ceremony. He’d spent the entire night before kneeling by the casket, then left at dawn to travel for business.

At the funeral, Xie Huai saw Shen’s sons, daughter, and extended family. They treated it like a networking event—barely a trace of grief. Likely, they’d already split up the old man’s shares.

From the sidelines, distant relatives gossiped cruelly.
“The company’s barely staying afloat, and the project director’s the only one keeping us fed—how generous of him.”
“The old man left half his shares to that ungrateful grandson who didn’t even show up. What a disgrace.”
“Didn’t even light a single stick of incense—great job, brother and sister-in-law, you raised a real gem.”

Their hypocrisy reeked. And later, when one project after another fell apart, none of them realized they were reaping what they’d sown.

Xie Huai’s expression darkened as he listened. His arrival drew attention, and the Shens hurried to greet him.

Among them was Shen Zeyu, surprised to see him. After grad school, Shen had tried visiting Xie Huai several times in M Country but could never find him—he’d always just “moved” or “traveled for business.”

Even after returning home, Shen’s messages went unanswered. He understood Xie Huai was busy.

At the funeral, they exchanged a few polite words before Shen tried inviting him to meet later—but Xie Huai left early. Shen chased after him, only to be stopped by the Qin family. He watched as Xie Huai got into the Qin family’s car.

From afar, old Mr. Xie sighed heavily. His grandson’s reason for returning was obvious. After all these years, maybe it was time to stop fighting fate.

A week ago, he and Old Master Shen had still shared tea. Now one was gone, and the other was left with ghosts.

When Xie Huai returned to the Qin estate, both the Xie and Qin families knew he was back.

Years ago, when Xie Huai had first realized his feelings for Qi Xu, he’d been like a terrified teenager, trying desperately to hide it.

Once, after personally handling the people spreading rumors about Qi Xu, his secret had almost been exposed—Qin Sr. found a wallet he’d dropped at a family dinner, and from it, a small photo of Qi Xu had slipped out.

From then on, Xie Huai’s affection was buried beneath threats and business deals—including one binding bet agreement between the families.

He knew that by now, after everything, Qi Xu likely saw him as nothing but an enemy.

Still, he wondered: if he left, gave it time and distance—would things change when they met again?

Now, returning with that nearly fulfilled agreement in hand, he faced the Qin patriarch once more—and within three sentences, angered the old man into hospitalization.

Half a year after Shen’s passing, Qi Xu was promoted to vice president. Xie Huai finalized the RA acquisition and prepared to return home.

Not long after, an uninvited guest arrived at his villa.

“Fourteen hours in the air just to drink with me?” Xie Huai’s patience thinned as he watched Xu Yichen sprawl on his couch with a bottle in hand. “You seriously have nothing better to do. You’re wasting jet fuel.”

Xu Yichen sniffled, half-drunk. “Didn’t waste a drop—I hitched a ride on your supply plane. Must be nice, getting monthly deliveries to your mansion. My family doesn’t even treat me like a person.”

His voice cracked. “I can’t even decide my own marriage. Why the hell do they get to steal my happiness?”

Xie Huai tossed him a box of tissues. “It’s been ten years, and you still haven’t confessed. I honestly don’t know what you’re waiting for.”

Xu Yichen blinked. “Ten years already? Damn. Feels like I’m still eighteen. You know they’re saying Fang Qian’s getting engaged soon? Guess who the fiancé is—Qi Xu. The long-lost Shen heir they found ten years ago.”

Xie Huai’s brow tightened, but Xu Yichen didn’t notice the storm brewing on his friend’s face.

“At our coming-of-age party, I almost beat the crap out of him—if you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve. Though, maybe good thing you did. Turns out it was Song Ruoming who set that peeping incident up, and Fang Qian told Qi Xu, who then exposed that jerk’s whole history. Now the guy’s infamous.”

“I didn’t stop you,” Xie Huai interrupted flatly. “I stopped him. You wouldn’t have stood a chance. And they won’t be getting engaged.”

Xu Yichen hiccuped. “How would you know? You’ve been overseas for years. Qi Xu’s trying to take back the Shen family business. If the Fang family supports him, it’s as good as done.”

“Then confess,” Xie Huai said, pouring himself a drink. “Whether you’re ready or not, confess when you’re back.”

Xu Yichen shook his head. “I’m not prepared.”

“Ten years and you’re still not prepared?” Xie Huai shot back. “Fine. I’ll help. I’ll make you a plan. But the confession is happening.”

Xu Yichen stared. “Wait—you’re coming back?”

“Tomorrow’s flight.”

Xu Yichen nearly dropped his glass. “You just acquired RA! Lozz finally broke through! You’re really walking away now?”

Xie Huai set his glass down with a sharp clink. “Lozz was always my fallback. The road’s built now—it’s time to go back to where it began, and bring him with me.”

Xu Yichen had known Xie Huai since childhood, but he’d never seen him like this. Ten years of effort—all for someone.

He hesitated. “You mean… Qi Xu?”

Xie Huai didn’t deny it. “Qi Xu.”

Xu’s eyes widened. “That Qi Xu? So all those years you attended Shen family banquets… it was for him?”

Xie Huai said nothing.

Xu Yichen groaned. “Man, you’re hopeless. You went to parties you hated just to get a glimpse of him—and he didn’t even show up.”

“At least I did something,” Xie Huai retorted. “You’ve done nothing but mope for ten years.”

The two men, both disastrously single, took turns roasting each other—each hitting exactly where it hurt.

Ten minutes later, Xu Yichen slumped back on the couch. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll confess. Probably faster than you, anyway.”

He raised his glass toward Xie Huai. “We’re twenty-eight—prime age for love.”

Their glasses clinked.

Back then, Xie Huai thought they still had all the time in the world. Twenty-eight was young—young enough to start over, to rediscover someone you once thought you knew.

He believed that if he could just try again, he’d have the courage to face whatever came next.

Time, after all, was nothing.