Chapter 486

In 2001, Shanghai's development surged forward; combined with its geographical location and the urban heat island effect, the city grew ever more like a steamer basket, another scorching summer arriving.

In the house in Fuxing Park, amid the barely concealed glances of the maids that seemed to want to hang him from a lamppost, Wang Yan carried a nourishing old hen soup to the second-floor living room. In two small cribs lay two tiny things, both boys. Zheng Wei and Li Weijuan sat there, waiting to be served. They had conceived together, but gave birth five days apart. Li Weijuan's child bore the Li surname, named Li Yang. Zheng Wei's child bore the Zheng surname, named Zheng Yao.

It was also amusing: now four women had given birth, all boys, and all had delivered naturally.

"Listen to me, you two, drink this soup plenty—it's even stronger than what I made before, a family secret recipe, absolutely tonic. Come on, come on, let's eat."

Stretching their somewhat fuller bodies, the two women sat at a large table specially brought up.

Zheng Wei took a spoonful of soup, tasted it, smacked her lips, and nodded: "When Shi Jie and Ruan Wan were doing their postpartum recovery, didn't you serve them the same way?"

"Serving them? How could I possibly be as attentive as I am to you two? Besides, no matter how bad I am, this is my first time being a father. Shi Jie was my first trial, Ruan Wan my second practice—now with you two, my postpartum care skills have finally reached mastery."

Li Weijuan waved her hand: "Don't listen to him spouting nonsense—he learned all this somewhere, long ago mastered it. Old Wang, keep fooling around. I already called Big Auntie; she said when Shi Jie first gave birth, you handled everything like you were playing with toys. Unlike us—we're so careful touching them, afraid they'll cry nonstop if we do anything wrong, it's exhausting."

"Now you know how exhausting it is?" Wang Yan shook his head. "Just eat your meal."

The three sat at the table and began eating. The postpartum meal set—Wang Yan's specialty. His ordinary home cooking hadn't improved much over the years; he cooked so rarely, only a few meals here and there, and maintaining LV3 level was already impressive. But postpartum meals were different—they were medicinal cuisine. Combined with his culinary skill and research across multiple worlds, even ignoring medicinal value, his culinary level alone reached a solid LV4.

Without exaggeration, with these two skills alone, he could open a postpartum center and make a fortune.

After eating two bites, Zheng Wei sighed: "Xiao Bei's been pregnant seven months now, right? You know, she's impressive—carrying twins. If she gives birth to a boy too, whose skill is it? Yours or ours?"

"It's just our bloodline's strong. But having only boys is boring, annoying. I say Xiao Bei will have two girls—give me a balanced family. But Xiao Bei refuses, insists on boys. Last time I heard Zhu Dajie say she couldn't help but ask the doctor—twins, boy and girl."

Zheng Wei sneered: "Whose fault is it that there are so many boys? It's all your doing."

"Want a girl?" Li Weijuan patted her chest. "Old Wang, wait till I recover. One isn't enough—I'll give you another."

"You're such a slut."

"Who are you to judge me?"

"Enough already? Eat!" Wang Yan waved his hand, stopping the two women from arguing. "You're both mothers now—can't you go five minutes without fighting?"

Back in college, they bickered constantly. Later, during construction work, they bonded and bickered less. Then, as sisters-in-arms, they started bickering again—every day chaotic, noisy, and thoroughly enjoyable.

Li Weijuan changed the subject: "How's Old Zhang doing? These kids have worn me out—I haven't had time to read on your site. Didn't you say you'd start charging this year? Haven't you shut it down?"

"How can you say that? I set the direction and personally wrote novels to drive paid subscriptions—how could it fail?"

Initially, paid users were few, but his fame and large reader base helped, and anti-piracy measures—though unable to stop manual copying—still attracted many paying readers. Other popular works on the platform also contributed; though the start wasn't smooth, the situation stabilized.

For payments, they integrated online banking and Long Teng's own online payment system. Since online banking already existed, adding another online payment seemed redundant—it would only become useful with future mobile payments, but it served as early advertising to attract users.

In the online literature world, Zhang Kai's move to charge for text sparked a huge uproar. Previously, authors posted on forums purely out of love, just hoping someone would read. Traditional literature, poetry, essays—all had no publishing channels and were just useless text, ignored by all. Now, whether good or bad, writing could earn money. Zhang Kai even posted an announcement on the official site, exaggeratedly revealing the first-month revenue figures. Of course, Wang Yan earned the most—over 100,000 yuan in one month.

This gave many other content creators hope of earning money. In fact, during the first month of charging, registered authors surged; after the data was published, it exploded, triggering an author boom. Correspondingly, the number of new works also exploded, creating a certain suction effect that dealt a fatal blow to competing platforms.

Moreover, Zhang Kai contacted publishers to print hardcover editions of previously free works with strong platform data, selling them through the platform's own bookstore website, and publicly disclosing copyright and royalty income—another deadly attraction.

During this period, Long Teng's tech team and legal department launched a barrage of lawsuits; the Xuanwu District Court in Jin Ling was especially busy. No one heeded warnings—everyone had a gambling mentality; until it hit them personally, they were always defiant.

As for his earlier plans to establish a film and television production company, an entertainment company, and develop a player—all were already completed. They were now filming his first novel's adaptation; Zhang Kai publicly announced the film and TV rights sale: over two million yuan, blinding many content creators. The series would air on Jiangsu Satellite TV in early next year as the year's opening drama. With money and connections, you're unstoppable.

After this series of moves, the website took off, its valuation skyrocketed, making it one of the few standout internet companies besides A-Teng—since A-Teng had more users and better data. The internet industry's winter hadn't passed yet; all companies were lost, searching for paths and profit points. Only Zhang Kai's platform had paid reading and copyright development—two clear advantages; it was impossible not to stand out. Still, the original thirty million hadn't been spent; the next round of funding would wait, to maximize returns.

In this glittering, splendid future, the ones in a hurry weren't Zhang Kai—but the capital investors, afraid they'd miss the train.

After hearing his explanation, Li Weijuan sighed: "No wonder Old Zhang has vision. You've been with Old Wang since graduation—barely three years—and now you're worth over a hundred million."

Zheng Wei shot back, a self-destructive retort: "Only you have vision—shamelessly throwing yourself at him."

"Aren't you the same?"

"You all have vision," Wang Yan interrupted. "Actually, Zhang Kai doesn't have much money himself—the company's valuation is just paper. He earns only three thousand yuan a month, working tirelessly, exhausted."

"Still, that's great. I remember the average salary is only a thousand yuan now? That's an average—many don't even earn that. Three thousand is good. Besides, he has shares—he's a boss, working for himself and still taking three thousand?"

Wang Yan shook his head with a smile: "You're too narrow-minded. You, a rich woman with bags worth thousands or tens of thousands, haggling over Zhang Kai's three or five thousand. He's the one doing the work. In a shareholding company, whether the company is his or not, earning through labor is natural. Now he gets three thousand; after the next funding round, his salary will jump to thirty thousand, then three hundred thousand, three million. This money isn't ours—it's from investors. Legitimately earning money—why not take it? Besides, Zhang Kai really works hard—you haven't seen him in years—he's skin and bones."

"Hasn't she always been like this?" Zheng Wei sneered. "You don't know—these years, all the money you gave her, she saved to buy houses. Those bags worth thousands or tens of thousands? I bought them. She won't buy a million-yuan car, just rides with me—says it's too expensive on fuel. She's stingy to death."

"What do you know? Old Wang said houses will only get more expensive—look at Shanghai's prices now! That's investment, saving money for Old Wang. Unlike you, spending recklessly every day, a wasteful woman."

"Fine, Old Wang, arrange a car—send her home."

"No, no, no—Miss, why get so upset? Look, we're sisters—if my houses make money, do you think I'd forget you?" Li Weijuan, shameless, coaxed Zheng Wei, then winked at Old Wang: "Besides, Old Wang can't spoil me too much—he has to enforce family rules."

"Stop provoking. You just gave birth—behave." Wang Yan waved his hand. "Eat your meal."

If recklessness was the point, Li Weijuan was the champion—she knew many tricks and didn't care about appearances. Even though Zheng Wei was involved too, she was never as open as Li Weijuan—which was why she always called Li Weijuan a slut; she truly opened her eyes…

Three months passed. In the quiet, minimalist, elegant villa at the farthest corner of Jin Ling Future City, Wang Yan was again serving Zhu Xiao Bei's postpartum meals. Two days ago, she successfully gave birth to twins—a boy and a girl—perfectly balanced. The boy was named Zhu Lang, the girl Zhu Li, both taking the Zhu family surname.

As Zhu Xiao Bei had hoped, Wang Yan really gave her a villa—even though she rarely lived there, it was registered in her name, and this postpartum recovery was happening here.

Shi Jie didn't have a big house, nor did she need one. She lived with her parents, who weren't retired yet, so staying in the staff dormitory was more convenient. She only visited Wang Yan's old house for a few days when he called. Still, though she had no property, she had cash—lots of it sitting in her bank account.

Her parents weren't fools. Every month, she'd disappear for a few days with the child, and when the child returned, he'd call "Dad"—something was clearly off. As Shi Jie's new boyfriend, Wang Yan paid a visit. Shi Jie described him as "just seeing how things go," but she couldn't hide it. Wang Yan's most unforgettable feature was his eyes—and Shi Jie's child had exceptionally beautiful eyes too. Suspicion arose. When questioned, Shi Jie's story had too many holes—it blew open.

Handling it wasn't hard—scold, hit, whatever. Wang Mou was a hardened rogue, skilled at flattery, and a powerful boss besides. Most crucially, the child was already big—what else could be done?

"Xiao Bei, Big Sister, it's time to eat."

Hearing the call, Zhu Xiao Bei and Zhu Dajie quietly left the room and sat at the dining table.

Zhu Dajie had grown even more plump. Already shorter, now with extra weight, she looked rounder, almost spherical. Though she looked prosperous and had indeed become wealthy, she remained simple—no gold, no jewelry, no glitter. She'd simply gained an air of composure and authority, now a formidable businesswoman.

Looking at the full table of dishes, she smiled warmly at Wang Yan: "Of all the bosses, you're the busiest taking care of postpartum recovery. Your business is so big—Xiao Bei doesn't need you to worry."

"No, this is the only time I'm useful. The faults are mine—if I didn't take responsibility for something as important as childbirth and postpartum care, I'd be no good. Besides, Big Sister, your company looks busy, but actually, others do the work. That's what I'm saying…"

"Hey, stop! Don't blame me," Zhu Dajie quickly waved her hand. "I just like being busy—managing so many people, seeing money come in, I'm happy. You two just mind yourselves, raise your kids, okay? Let's not worry about each other."

"See? It's not that I won't say it—she knows it herself, just won't act. No one can make her. As for her lifelong partner… fine, fine, I won't say it anymore. Eat, eat." Zhu Xiao Bei, seeing her sister about to explode, raised an eyebrow at Wang Yan and shook her head.

"That's better." Zhu Dajie picked up her bowl and chopsticks to eat. "Honestly, Xiao Yan, you're amazing—whatever you do, you succeed. I never expected your postpartum meals would taste this good."

"All ancestral blessings. But Big Sister, eat less. Right now you're just weak, but if you get any fatter, all the lifestyle diseases will come. Not just eat less—you must exercise. Otherwise, all the money you work so hard for won't last long."

Zhu Xiao Bei glared: "What are you talking about? You're the one who won't last long."

"Xiao Yan's just looking out for me—I know. Don't worry, Xiao Yan, even if you didn't say it, I've felt it—my health's been off lately. After Xiao Bei finishes her postpartum period, I'll start exercising."

"I'll give you a prescription later—family secret formula, speeds up metabolism. Then exercise, and in a few months you'll be slim again. Just keep exercising."

Zhu Xiao Bei stared at her in disbelief: "Wait—what exactly is your family's business? How do you have so many secret formulas?"

"That's quite impressive—this story goes back to the end of the Tang Dynasty…"

Wang Yan talked nonsense nonstop, teasing the two sisters. He took excellent care of them, never favoring one over the other; he'd accompanied all these women through their postpartum periods. This was the longest time they'd spent together since meeting Wang Yan—a full month, day after day, and they were all very happy.

People are like that: once they realize many things are beyond reach, they easily become content. Like here—though they couldn't make Wang Yan belong to just one of them, having a month of his company made Wang Mou seem especially responsible, like a good man…

Spring goes, but spring returns; flowers fade, yet bloom again. No one knows where time has gone—only that children grow up, women grow more alluring, and careers achieve greater success.

Summer of 2003, Pukou High-Tech Industrial Development Zone, the area surrounding Long Teng's headquarters.

Originally, the government had planned to designate a high-tech industrial park in Jianye District, but Long Teng—having grown in nine years from a tiny, hand-made herbal tea bag workshop with just dozens of employees into the top private enterprise, and one that operated in high-tech—naturally became the center of government attention. So the government simply let go entirely: surrounding infrastructure was handed over to Future Real Estate, and the remaining land was auctioned off to powerful real estate developers. In just a few years, Pukou, once underdeveloped, was utterly transformed: skyscrapers rose everywhere, and many more projects were still under construction.

On the upper floor of a newly built office building, in a spacious office facing northeast, Zhang Kai smoked while frowning at his computer screen. Behind him stood a wall lined with various items, plus many books that were novels published on their website. Another wall's shelves were filled with all kinds of figurines—all merchandise based on their novels. The third wall featured a bright, spotless floor-to-ceiling window, outside of which lay the ongoing high-tech development zone.

"Dong dong dong"—a knock came at the door.

"Come in," Zhang Kai said without looking up.

As he spoke, the office door opened, and in walked a beautiful secretary in a tight skirt. "Mr. Zhang, a gentleman wishes to see you. He didn't make an appointment, but says he's your classmate—Chen Xiaozheng. Here's his business card."

Zhang Kai paused, took the card the secretary offered as she bowed slightly, glanced at it, then chuckled and told her: "Show him in."

Watching the secretary leave, Zhang Kai shook his head with a smile, stretched his arms wide, stood up, and walked to the window to admire the view, twisting his waist and hips to relax.

Moments later, the secretary led Chen Xiaozheng inside.

"Mr. Zhang, Mr. Chen has arrived."

Zhang Kai turned around, looked at the face that had changed little, and laughed heartily as he stepped forward: "Ah Zheng! Long time no see, long time no see, ha ha…"

Chen Xiaozheng's face had changed little, yet changed a great deal—because on his previously lifeless expression now shone a genuine, wide smile: "I've missed you so much! I never thought that what you all said back then would come true—Old Zhang really became Mr. Zhang!"

"Hey, who's who here? No need for 'Mr. Zhang.' Come, sit down." Zhang Kai clapped Chen Xiaozheng on the shoulder. "What'll you drink? Tea? Coffee? Or something else?"

"Coffee."

"You heard that? Bring a cup of coffee, and brew me a pot of tea."

The secretary nodded: "Yes, Mr. Zhang." She stepped back politely two paces, then turned and left.

Chen Xiaozheng sat on the sofa, watching the secretary's graceful retreating figure: "Being a boss really is different, huh? Is she your secretary… or your mistress?"

"What mistress? She's just pleasing to look at. Some expert said looking at beautiful women improves your mood, and a good mood means longer life—it's good for health."

Chen Xiaozheng studied the grinning Zhang Kai, then nodded: "You really need to take care of yourself. When I came in, I almost didn't recognize you—you've gotten so thin."

"That's Wang Dong's fault. Old Wang's not human—he just doesn't care about anything. Look at me—I've got over a thousand people under me, and all the burden's fallen on me. I've regained a bit of weight these past two years. You found me here—you must've already heard about my situation. Back then, before we started charging, Old Wang said I was about to drop dead from overwork. During the month we started charging, I couldn't sleep a single night straight; my hair fell out in clumps. Look at my hair now, right?"

Zhang Kai laughed loudly, lifting his hair: "Fake! I'm completely bald. I thought, 'This doesn't suit my image,' so I got this thing to cover it up."

"I heard you were doing great before, and figured you'd show up and brag nonstop," Chen Xiaozheng chuckled bitterly. "I never imagined you'd greet me with a wig—show me your bald head…"

"No point in pretending. Those who know, know. Those who don't, I can't pretend to them. You know how awesome I am—why would I need to brag to you?" Zhang Kai gave his signature goofy grin and waved his hand. "Ah, look at me—I just can't stop talking. We've been talking about me since we met. Tell me about you—you've changed a lot. Before, you always had that gloomy face, like everyone owed you money. Just now, when you saw me, you smiled so broadly I almost didn't recognize you."

Chen Xiaozheng grinned as he exaggeratedly pulled at his own lips: "Everyone grows, right? You know my family's background. Before, I just wanted success—escape my original family. Now, though I can't match your level, I've still achieved it. No burdens in my heart, no pressure on my body—I've naturally relaxed."

"So you're not planning to leave?" Zhang Kai gestured as the secretary entered with a tray holding tea and coffee. "Actually, I always knew you'd come back."

"Huh? How'd you know?"

Zhang Kai sipped his tea, pulled two cigarettes from the pack, and instinctively offered one. Then he remembered Chen Xiaozheng didn't smoke, and put them back. He lit one himself.

But unexpectedly, Chen Xiaozheng picked up a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and expertly exhaled smoke. Seeing Zhang Kai's surprise, he smiled: "Back then, under so much pressure and always staying up late, I slowly picked up smoking. It's been a few years."

Zhang Kai smiled. Smoking wasn't a big deal. He began his story: "That was two years ago? No—end of the millennium, about two and a half years ago. That time, Xu Kaiyang invited me and Old Wang to dinner…"

He recounted how he'd seen Xu Kaiyang and Ceng Yu together, their conversation about how Ceng Yu and Xu Kaiyang had met, and Ceng Yu's past in America with Chen Xiaozheng.

"At the time, we all said you'd come back. Ceng Yu also said that when she left, you saw her off and told her this. And over these past two years, China's developed rapidly—joined the WTO, won the Olympic bid—everywhere, buildings are going up. Look at this area—it was nothing before, right? In just five years, see how far it's come. You're in architectural design—you'd definitely make more money coming back."

Chen Xiaozheng's bitterness vanished; he smiled wryly: "We're all serving the country."

"I hate people like you," Zhang Kai sneered, casually pointing out the window. "That's serving the country."

Chen Xiaozheng followed his finger. Beyond a vast empty lot stood a group of ant-sized people bustling about—cranes everywhere, machines everywhere—a sprawling construction site stretching far into the distance.

Some buildings were already taking shape: upturned eaves, bracket sets, blue tiles, gray walls—a massive architectural complex. From his high vantage point, he saw it all. The entire complex even channeled water from the Yangtze River through it. Amid ancient charm, he felt overwhelming awe—as if more majestic than the Forbidden City, radiating grandeur and solemnity.

He paused, then smiled bitterly: "I know—that's not Old Wang's work, right? Famous worldwide. Won the Liang Sicheng Prize two years ago, the Lu Ban Prize last year—both China's highest honors. Even some foreign authoritative awards wanted to give Wang Yan an award. But Wang Yan said foreigners don't understand Chinese architecture and aren't qualified to judge him. So arrogant. So awesome. You're right—he's the one truly serving the country. No matter what, he's powerfully promoting traditional Chinese culture, and in ancient architecture, no one in China today can match him."

Zhang Kai had known Wang Yan for years—he understood what he was like. Arrogant? Awesome? There was even more hidden, never shown. That's why he stayed so low-key, never bragged to Chen Xiaozheng—because he had a role model above him.

Of course, he wouldn't tell Chen Xiaozheng any of this. He just smiled: "Don't say that. I used to praise Old Wang the same way. He said that while he's indeed better than many at ancient architecture, the main reason is—he actually built it. There are plenty of master-level experts and professors, but only he's turned designs into large-scale, real buildings. Others' work stays on paper—so of course he's the greatest." Zhang Kai waved his hand. "Look, I've circled back to Old Wang again. Back to the point—when did you come back? Who have you seen?"

"I've been back half a month. Haven't seen anyone—just stayed in my hometown. Two years ago, my mom passed away. She didn't want me to come back, so even in death, she had relatives hide it from me and handle the funeral. She even had them lie to me, telling me she was fine. I was busy then, and didn't realize the truth until half a year later. But by then, it was too late—she was gone, so I didn't return."

Chen Xiaozheng's eyes held sadness, yet he smiled: "Actually, it's better this way. She was free, and I was free too. It was just too sudden—I never got to see her again."

Zhang Kai sighed, patted his shoulder in comfort, and changed the subject: "So what's your plan? Where will you develop? Jin Ling? Or somewhere else?"

"There are only a few places—Jin Ling, Jingcheng, Shanghai, Yangcheng, or Shenzhen. I haven't decided yet. I'll figure it out later—I want to rest properly."

"That's true. You've spent years buried in study, pushing upward—you definitely need a break."

Chen Xiaozheng extinguished his cigarette and sipped his coffee: "Yeah, you know I don't have many friends—that's why I came to you. Wanted to catch up. But you're still so busy."

"No matter how busy I am, when you, Ah Zheng, come back to me, I'm not busy. I'll call Old Wang right now—see if he's in Jin Ling. If he is, let's have a drink today. If he's not, just the two of us is fine. Should I call Xu Kaiyang too? Bring your old flame?"

"Stop joking. What old flame?" Chen Xiaozheng asked. "Is Wang Yan really that busy?"

"You know him—he was like that in college: seen at the head, never at the tail. Can't say he's busy—he just loafed around all day, nobody knew what he did. Last time I saw him, he was walking with a kid. Don't know who the mother is—suddenly appeared. I only ran into him by accident; otherwise I'd never have known."

"He got married? I never heard."

"Who says having a kid means you have to be married?"

Chen Xiaozheng paused, then changed the subject: "How about everyone else? Back then, you and I hung out with Ruan Wan, Zheng Wei—have you kept in touch all these years?"

Zhang Kai shook his head: "Just occasional phone calls. Since graduation, we've never met. Everyone's busy, no time. And after graduation, we scattered across the country—even the best friendships grow distant."

"Never organized a class reunion?"

"Someone tried, but neither I nor Old Wang went. Ruan Wan and the others didn't show up either—nobody knows what they're doing. Why? Back home in glory? Planning to show off to your classmates?"

"No," Chen Xiaozheng shook his head. "I thought, after five years, everyone's probably done well. I'm staying in China to develop—let's reconnect, help each other out."

"You're right. It's been years—we don't even know how they're doing." Zhang Kai pulled out a cigarette, lit it, exhaled smoke, thought for a moment, then said: "Good idea. My birthday's next month—let's get everyone in touch. I'll call Old Wang first—if he's in Jin Ling, let's have a drink today…"