Reply to Keats - Chap 71
71. Rise to Fame
Zhao Shengge listened quietly as Chen Wan rambled on in no particular order, never interrupting him. His broad hands radiated warmth on the winter night. Calmly, he said, “It’s okay. I’ll keep an eye on her. Nothing will happen again.”
Originally, Zhao Shengge hadn’t planned to let Chen Wan see Song Qingmiao anymore. But looking at his solitary figure, he still said, “Whenever you want to see her, I’ll take you.”
Zhao Shengge was different from Chen Wan. If it were him, he would never place even a shred of hope in someone who had once abandoned him.
That was why he no longer had any entanglements with his parents or with Zhao Maozheng. But Chen Wan was soft by nature, someone worth protecting. He couldn’t bring himself to be too cruel to him.
Chen Wan turned his head to look at him, his black eyes shining.
The buildings and lights in the distance had already taken on red accents for the New Year, and Zhao Shengge added, “If you’d like, it could be around the New Year.”
Chen Wan felt like he was being coaxed like a child and let out a quiet laugh.
“No need,” he said. “Things like this… let them happen naturally. Don’t force it.”
Zhao Shengge’s embrace and breath were warm. Chen Wan tugged at his sleeve, sighed inwardly, and asked, “Zhao Shengge, you actually don’t dislike dogs, do you?”
“Hm?”
“I saw you that day.”
From Song Qingmiao’s room, through the window.
Zhao Shengge had been leaning against the Rolls-Royce, waiting for him. A little stray had come wobbling up from the roadside. It wasn’t very clean, but Zhao Shengge had let it circle around his feet for a long time without shooing it away. His expression showed no impatience.
It was very different from when they’d encountered the German Shepherd at Victoria Harbour.
“Mm,” Zhao Shengge said truthfully. “I don’t dislike them.”
He had never told Shen Zongnian or Tan Youming anything about Bozhu, but with Chen Wan, he could speak.
“When I was a kid, I picked up one that looked a bit like that. But it was dealt with.”
Chen Wan was silent for a moment. Even though Zhao Shengge mentioned it so lightly, he could piece together the cause and effect, and it filled him with a quiet sorrow.
He leaned closer and offered, “Then why don’t we raise another one? A smaller one, like the one we saw by the road that day, with a round little head. I’m not scared of those.”
“When we have time, we can take it for walks by the harbour, or go hiking on Victoria Peak over the weekend. When you swim, I’ll stay with it and help you keep time.”
Zhao Shengge looked at him for a while and said, “No need.”
“I already have one.”
Chen Wan was stunned for a second. When he came back to himself, he nodded. “Alright. That’s fine. I’m willing.”
Now it was Zhao Shengge’s turn to pause, then turn his head away, smiling helplessly.
December came to an official close. A new year began. In Haishi’s most respected financial publication, the first cover story of the year blazed in gold: [Baoli Bay Pier Sparkles Like a Pearl; Mr. Zhao and Close Friend Start Overseas Roadshow, Stirring Envy.]
The first stop of the roadshow was Manchester. Xu Zhiying and Fang Jian met Zhao Shengge and Chen Wan at the airport, and together they boarded Zhao Shengge’s Bombardier jet to fly across the ocean.
A new year had begun. Fang Jian was still the same—immersed in academics and completely unconcerned with appearances. Chen Wan had heard that Zhao Shengge had specifically instructed his secretary to have an entire wardrobe tailored for Fang Jian for the month-long roadshow. When Dr. Fang accidentally overheard the total cost, he was devastated and loudly cried out, “Corruption!” thinking how wonderful it would be if that money were spent on scientific research instead.
Xu Zhiying had recently been riding high on the success of the Baoli Bay project. With momentum on her side, she had taken the lead in the family power struggle, ousting her two elder brothers from the inner circle and growing increasingly high-spirited.
While everyone was waiting in the VIP lounge to board, Zhao Shengge suddenly turned his head and asked Chen Wan in a low voice, “How did you know I’d come out of Gate B3 when I returned to the country?”
Chen Wan froze for a moment, then realized and gave a helpless smile. “Just how thoroughly did Zhixuan sell me out?”
Zhao Shengge raised an eyebrow. “Seems your solid friendship isn’t so solid after all.” With Zhuo Zhixuan’s mouth, he didn’t even need to be coerced or tempted.
“…” Chen Wan caught a slightly different undertone and couldn’t help finding it amusing. He simply said, “It wasn’t just that time. When the media reported that you were attacked in Italy, I almost got on a plane immediately.”
Zhao Shengge didn’t respond, but his expression clearly said: Go on.
In the past, Chen Wan might’ve felt a little embarrassed, like some creepy perverted stalker. But now, if Zhao Shengge liked hearing it, he’d just say it openly. “You know how unreliable Hai Media’s paparazzi are. Their headlines are exaggerated, their facts vague, twisted with malice, all for cheap attention.”
Chen Wan looked exasperated. “One moment they said you were seriously injured and might need an amputation. The next, they claimed you were shot in the chest and on the brink of death.”
Zhao Shengge, who had only sustained a scrape on his arm: “…”
“And then Minglong must’ve suppressed the news quickly because the tabloids went completely silent and never mentioned it again. I was so anxious I could barely eat or sleep.” Chen Wan remembered the torment of that time, his brow furrowing again. “If Zhuo Zhixuan hadn’t told me you were safe when I went to apply for a visa, I really would’ve flown there.”
Zhao Shengge suppressed the faintest upward curve at the corner of his lips. His expression remained cool as he said, “Those media outlets really are unreliable.”
“You two.” Xu Zhiying, sitting opposite them, couldn’t listen any longer. She suddenly lifted her sunglasses and perched them on top of her head, looking at Zhao Shengge and Chen Wan with interest. “Say what you will about Hai Media’s overall reliability, but when it comes to reporting on you two, I’d say they’re not far off the mark.”
Xu Zhiying had always been just an ordinary business partner to Zhao Shengge. He was quiet by nature, and they rarely chatted outside of work. But whenever Chen Wan was around, the atmosphere relaxed, and Zhao Shengge became less serious, so Xu Zhiying felt freer to speak casually.
“Stuff like: ‘The Prince Caught in Love at Shallow Bay: Private Rendezvous Lasts Three Days and Nights,’ or ‘Young Master Zhao Does Charity, Treats Paparazzi to Bottled Water.’”
“Even my mom asked if it was true. One of her mahjong friends found out we’re both working on the Baoli Bay project and now, if I weren’t doing it, no socialite would even want to play cards with her. They’d accuse her of hoarding connections and being completely untrustworthy.”
Zhao Shengge and Chen Wan: “…”
Fang Jian, unable to tolerate the gossip at such a critical moment, walked over holding a survey map. Like a teacher scolding unruly students, he said, “Hey, cut it out with the nonsense. I need to go over the pollution metrics again. The environmental watchdogs are definitely going to jump on this…”
“…”
As boarding time approached, Zhao Shengge suddenly said to Chen Wan, “Back when I left after graduation, I departed from that gate over there.”
Gate 37—the international boarding gate.
Chen Wan looked at him, a slight chill prickling the back of his scalp. He murmured, “I knew Zhixuan sold me out, but I didn’t think he sold me out this cleanly.”
Zhao Shengge looked at his expression and was finally satisfied.
Amid the roar of the plane soaring into the clouds, Chen Wan, resting with his eyes closed, felt Zhao Shengge take his hand and say softly, “From now on, I’ll see you off whenever you fly.”
Chen Wan curved his lips into a smile. High in the sky, he gripped Zhao Shengge’s hand tightly in return.
***
Zhao Shengge had been through many roadshows before, but this was the first with Chen Wan by his side.
As usual, he remained behind the scenes, quietly watching Chen Wan step into the spotlight and face the cameras. All Chen Wan had to do was turn his head slightly to meet Zhao Shengge’s calm gaze.
The first roadshow could be called smooth, but not without its hurdles.
First, there was the formidable Ms. Xu Zhiying, a powerhouse in the business world, who sharply rebuked a Canadian reporter for questioning whether her position as head of PR for a mega-project like Baoli Bay had anything to do with her close relationship with Mr. Zhao. She then went on to mercilessly mock another bearded reporter who asked how she planned to balance marriage, career, and life in the future.
Chen Wan couldn’t help but smile.
Then Fang Jian delivered a half-hour advanced lecture on ocean current systems to an American journalist who had questioned whether their scientific standards met international benchmarks. He covered everything from current monitoring technology to deep-sea operational automation…
“…”
When pushy reporters came up against Fang Jian, it was like scholars running into a soldier. All veiled insinuations and aggressive questioning were effectively shut down by Dr. Fang’s profound and impenetrable physics lectures.
So, the reporters shifted their focus back to Xu Zhiying.
This kind of aggressive, deliberately provocative questioning from foreign media didn’t surprise Chen Wan. He knew that future resistance would largely center around the battle for resources. The Baoli Bay project wasn’t just a top-tier initiative in China; it was a globally significant, even threatening, megaproject.
At the same time, because Minglong had partnered with the mainland and significantly edged out foreign capital, the move had triggered stock market fluctuations and stirred unease in the foreign exchange markets.
When it was Chen Wan’s turn to speak, another foreign journalist picked up where the last had left off, pressing him to compare Minglong’s proprietary technology with another country’s exclusive patent. The reporter also questioned the potential environmental impact on the ocean and surrounding regions.
The atmosphere grew subtly tense.
The special assistant leaned over and asked Zhao Shengge, “Should we coordinate with the higher-ups?”
Zhao Shengge looked at Chen Wan and said, “It’s fine.”
Under the spotlight, Chen Wan calmly took the microphone. “Dear journalist, our country’s deep-sea exploration technology was the first to overcome the key challenges of high-position, low-position, and dynamic positioning of mainstream floating platforms. Whether in modular construction or subsea operations, we have fully entered the era of ultra-deepwater.”
“Our all-weather, all-sea floating platform capabilities, operational difficulty, and technical complexity have ranked first globally for ten consecutive years. These technologies are already in use. In recent years, we’ve engaged in deep collaboration with multiple countries involved in marine development and conservation, achieving outstanding results. These are achievements recognized internationally and cannot be denied. I also ask that we refrain from misattribution.”
His tone wasn’t forceful, but it was unwaveringly firm.
Across the sea of camera flashes and the crowd of people with varying skin tones, Chen Wan’s gaze met Zhao Shengge’s.
Twelve years ago, he had stood in the audience, looking up at Zhao Shengge, earnestly listening to every one of his competitions and speeches.
Twelve years later, in a foreign land, Zhao Shengge sat in the audience watching him, his gaze calm and focused.
Something stirred faintly in Chen Wan’s heart, and at that moment, words could no longer capture anything.
The spotlight cast a golden halo around Chen Wan. Standing there, he spoke to the world on behalf of Zhao Shengge. “The Baoli Bay project is not only an opportunity to advance and deepen marine science and technology, but also a crucial step in protecting our oceanic ecological barriers, and a bridge for economic cooperation and exchange across the Asia-Pacific.”
“We have always adhered to the principles of mutual collaboration and win-win cooperation, committed to the scientific utilization and protection of marine resources. This is the unshirkable social responsibility of the Baoli Bay project and the unwavering goal of our scientific innovation team.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the domestic reporters were the first to break into applause.
Thus, Chen Wan rose to fame in a single battle.
Amid thousands of clapping hands, the only thing Chen Wan could see was Zhao Shengge’s calm eyes.
Cameras, flashes, long and short lenses—across the crowd and applause, they looked at each other without saying a word. But everything had already been said.
Over the course of the month-long roadshow, Chen Wan’s name quickly rose along the western coast of the ocean. His Eastern features, as graceful as an ink painting of Jiangnan, quickly became a favorite of the international financial press.
At every event, Zhao Shengge sat in the audience, applauding for him.
The flowers and ovations Chen Wan had never received in his youth were all made up for by Zhao Shengge.
At the final roadshow, Fang Jian was presented with a bouquet of anthuriums, symbolizing academic success. Xu Zhiying received cymbidiums and dahlias, representing a flourishing career.
Chen Wan held his own bouquet of peonies and hydrangeas. Glancing at the others’ flowers, he curved his eyes into a smile and asked Zhao Shengge, “You picked these?”
“Mm.”
Chen Wan looked at him and smiled indulgently. “Copying me?”
Zhao Shengge: “I thought you’d like them.”
Chen Wan didn’t respond. He studied him for a moment, then suddenly stepped closer. The smile faded from his face. He leaned in and whispered, “Since that’s the case, Zhao Shengge, let me tell you a secret even Zhuo Zhixuan doesn’t know.”
Zhao Shengge raised an eyebrow.
“That swim meet in the second year, the one where you broke the record, I gave you a bouquet.”
“No hidden meaning, just a pure congratulations.”
“White peonies symbolize sincerity. Pink hydrangeas represent fulfillment.”
“I just wanted you to succeed in whatever you did. To have it all go well.”
Zhao Shengge looked at him quietly, something unreadable in his eyes.
Chen Wan let out a soft laugh and continued, “But someone happened to confess to you that day. You thought the flowers were from them, and you gave my bouquet to them.”
“…” Zhao Shengge looked at his smile, reached out to take his hand, and said, “I’m sorry.”
“No need.” Chen Wan raised the flowers in his hand and said, “I’ve already received them.”
Zhao Shengge held his hand tighter and tucked it into his coat pocket.
They stepped out of the financial district. Snow was falling in Manchester.
Like many southerners, Chen Wan liked snow. But there was no snow in Hong Kong; all four seasons there felt like summer.
Zhao Shengge didn’t call for the car. Their apartment wasn’t far. He wrapped Chen Wan snugly in a scarf, opened a dark umbrella, and they walked together through Lincoln Park.
“That’s where your first cross-border acquisition press conference was held,” Chen Wan said, pointing to a nearby building.
Zhao Shengge adjusted Chen Wan’s scarf slightly, looked down at him, and said nothing.
“Over there,” Chen Wan added as they passed a hall, “you were secretly photographed.”
“Was I?”
“Yeah.” Chen Wan was certain. “You were probably attending that year’s Pacific Rim Economic Cooperation Forum.”
Before the shooting incident in Italy, Zhao Shengge’s schedule and whereabouts hadn’t been so mysterious. If there was something Chen Wan wanted to know, he always found a way.
“And you?” Zhao Shengge asked calmly.
“What?”
“What were you doing back then?”
“I was…” Chen Wan thought for a moment. “Subtly probing Zhuo Zhixuan for information about you.”
“I followed financial magazines and news every day.”
“And I was preparing to start Kexiang.”
He didn’t mention the sleepless nights scrambling for funding or the hangovers from endless business dinners, but Zhao Shengge could imagine it all.
Those moments he’d missed were simply gone, forever.
He stopped walking, pulled Chen Wan closer, lowered the umbrella to cover them both, and leaned down to kiss him.
Snow fell softly on the umbrella. Under its shelter, the world was silent. Zhao Shengge wrapped him in his long coat, bowed his head, and kissed him, with lips and tongue entwined. The kiss was deep as if Zhao Shengge had loved him for many, many years.
Back at the apartment, Chen Wan arranged the flowers in a vase. Zhao Shengge came over, handed him something, and said, “Take a look?”
But he made a point of clarifying, “This isn’t to congratulate you on the success of the roadshow.”
He had meant to give it to him earlier but had been too busy. Now that everything was over, he finally had time.
Chen Wan unfolded it and froze.
“You knew?”
Zhao Shengge raised an eyebrow.
“I saw you outside Qin Zhaoting’s shooting club, helping him pick up bottles.”
Later, Chen Wan had started supporting that boy financially.
So Zhao Shengge established a foundation.
Chen Wan held the documents, unsure when Zhao Shengge had even begun preparing all this.
Ever since Haishi had implemented new financial regulations to prevent the misuse of foundations for money laundering, setting one up had become incredibly difficult. Money alone wasn’t enough.
Something stirred in Chen Wan’s chest, and he asked quietly, “Where were you then? Why didn’t I see you?”
Zhao Shengge nodded. “Probably too caught up talking with Qin Zhaoting. That’s normal.”
“….” Chen Wan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He gave a helpless smile. “Zhao Shengge, you shot at me that day.”
“…”
