Chapter 120 – Extra 2

 

During the 2012 graduation season, the campus forum of the School of Business and Trade at Haigang University of Finance and Economics exploded with discussion because of two posts.

The first post was a hot thread by a senior student with the ID “Slacking Genius”: [Help! Xinghai Foreign Trade vs Mingzhou Foreign Trade—Which one should I choose? My GPA is 3.4, TEM-4 excellent, vice minister of a student union department. Seniors, please advise!]

Floor 1, “Cold Winter,” replied instantly: [Minister, you’re so outstanding! If you can get an offer, just choose whichever one wants you.]

The original poster wasn’t convinced. He had intended to pick between the two companies himself, but instead got mocked by this reply, so his response carried the pride of a top student: [??? Has the bar for foreign trade gotten this high? Aren’t my qualifications good enough?]

Floor 3, still “Cold Winter”: [If you really got interviews from both, would you still be here asking?]

The thread quickly veered off-topic into a rant from a complete novice in foreign trade. As more and more graduates wanted to enter the industry, the discussion soon focused on comparing the benefits of the two companies. Some asked about salary structures, others about promotion opportunities, and even some female students cautiously inquired about workplace environment.

“Cold Winter” seemed to have a soft spot for cute usernames. When seeing @StrawberryBoboBall’s question, he immediately gave a serious reply: [Both offer five insurances and one housing fund, transportation subsidies, etc.—top-tier in the industry. But Mingzhou is more friendly to newcomers in foreign trade, with flexible working hours. Especially for female employees, Mingzhou’s maternity leave and promotion system are exemplary.]

This comment sent the thread’s popularity soaring. A male student even registered an account overnight with a name like @SoftCuteDumpling, trying to fish for more insider info.

By floor 130, an ID named “Pink Bird” suddenly fired back: [Nonsense! Xinghai Foreign Trade is backed by a state-owned enterprise. Mingzhou is just a private company—how can it compare? Saying it’s female-friendly is just empty promises!]

For once, “Cold Winter” snapped back: [Bro, since you know so much, maybe try Haiou Foreign Trade. That place suits you better.]

That response completely ignited the curiosity of onlookers. By floor 146, someone directly asked: [Haiou hasn’t gone bankrupt yet?]

Immediately, the discussion shifted focus, and this old foreign trade company became the main topic, with rows of candle emojis flooding the thread.

When the post’s views surpassed 2,000, “Cold Winter” revealed his real identity—he was actually Lin Han, a senior business manager at Xinghai Foreign Trade!

The forum instantly exploded: [So even the boss spends his days slacking off on the forum!] [Guess Xinghai’s workload isn’t as intense as rumored?]

A week later, the original poster “Slacking Genius” returned with a miserable update: [Crying! I got rejected in Mingzhou’s final interview by the boss lady—she’s so beautiful and cool, I hate it!]

Lin Han immediately showed up to correct him: [That wasn’t the boss lady. That was the real boss.]

The comments section erupted again, with someone seizing the opportunity to ask: [Manager Han! I heard that Xinghai is going to merge with Mingzhou, is that true?]

This time, Lin Han didn’t dodge the question. He answered directly: [Not sure if they’ll merge, but compared to Mingzhou Foreign Trade, Xinghai employees would be more than happy to merge with Mingzhou. As for why, I won’t say. And congratulations on getting into Mingzhou—you now have the two strongest bosses.]

Ahem…

Although he didn’t spell it out, Lin Han’s concluding “well-wishes” were practically self-explanatory—they already made it clear why employees at Xinghai Foreign Trade were more eager to merge with Mingzhou Foreign Trade.

After all, the two bosses were from the same family, yet the allocation of resources was blatantly skewed.

It was only natural for Miss Ming of Mingzhou to favor her own company—but their Mr. Liang’s bias was simply outrageous!

“Fortunes really do change…” Lin Han gave a wry smile at his computer screen, casually liking each of the posts from the young newcomers in the thread.

That was the first hot post on the Business School forum. The second one, meanwhile, was a rant about Haiou Foreign Trade, and its popularity shot straight to the top with over ten thousand views.

Unlike the relatively objective and professional discussions about Xinghai and Mingzhou, this thread was packed with melodramatic gossip about the boss and his wife. Countless students, with the mentality of “eating melons for five minutes and getting hooked for two hours,” were deeply immersed in it. Once they entered this post, let alone two hours, they basically couldn’t get out of it in half a day.

Why was post about Haiou Foreign Trade so popular? Was it because Haiou was strong and reputable? Absolutely not. It was because the gossip about the boss and his wife was just too outrageous—too irresistibly juicy!

Which just goes to show: online gossip is the number one driver of internet traffic.

The year was 2012. It wasn’t particularly special—aside from the 18th National Congress, there wasn’t much else worth noting. If anything stood out, it was the once-sensational topic of the “end of the world” predicted by the Mayan civilization.

The supposed doomsday was December 21, 2012. Before that day arrived, it had already been dramatized by countless young people into a looming crisis. As it happened, the date also fell on a Friday—the Winter Solstice.

Even as a boss, no matter how busy one was, personal life still mattered.

Especially after Little Ming Lang came along, Liang Jiancheng and Ming Xi had agreed that each month, one or two weekends should be reserved for family gatherings; if they were too busy one month, they would make up for it the next.

But compared to family gatherings, Liang Jiancheng preferred spending weekends alone with Ming Xi—like when they had first been dating—occasionally going hiking together or camping overnight.

Camping overnight…

Thinking about it carefully, it seemed they hadn’t planned anything like that in a long time. With Little Ming Lang’s arrival, their private time together had inevitably been reduced.

In December 2012, Ming Lang turned four years old, officially leaving infancy and entering childhood. To Liang Jiancheng, his son’s growth signaled the beginning of a new stage—he would no longer depend on maternal affection as much as before. Therefore, as a husband, he felt entitled to more of Ming Xi’s time and attention.

At that time, Liang Jiancheng was approaching the prime of his late thirties.

Once, while on a flight, Ming Xi flipped through a men’s magazine in first class. A theory in it—“a man’s personality maturity peaks at 35, then gradually declines after a period”—made her chuckle. She casually snapped a photo of the passage and sent it to Liang Jiancheng after landing.

When Liang received the message, for the first time ever, he didn’t reply. However, that very night, he proved through action that his abilities in a certain area had not declined.

Only then did Ming Xi realize—he hadn’t ignored her message on purpose. He had mistaken “personality maturity” for “sexual maturity”!

Liang Jiancheng insisted he hadn’t misread it and even seriously refuted them, claiming that men reach sexual maturity much earlier than 35 years old, and that he was fully mature before the age of 18.

After a moment of intimacy, the two checked the photo on their phones and found the cause: glare during the shot had blurred the words “personality,” making it easy to misread at first glance.

Ming Xi : ….

Apologies—but if it had really been about sexual maturity, she would never have sent it to him.

After all, given Liang Jiancheng’s physical condition—despite his busy work, he exercised every week—even with a few strands of gray hair, he hadn’t lost a single abdominal muscle.

As for his sexual ability, there was absolutely no sign of decline after 35.

On the contrary, after her initial embarrassment, Ming Xi couldn’t help teasing him about his childish behavior: “Seems like men’s personality maturity really does start declining after 35!”

Especially the way he stubbornly argued tonight—utterly childish, downright ridiculous!

If Ming Xi had been an old lady, she might have laughed her teeth out. But she wasn’t, so she bit Liang Jiancheng’s lip, responding to childishness with childishness…

Then, at the perfect moment, Liang Jiancheng proposed that they go camping together over the weekend—without Ming Lang. The place he had chosen, he said, wasn’t suitable for children.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Of course!” Liang raised an eyebrow, his tone serious. “Very dangerous. Do you dare to take the challenge, Miss Ming?”

Having spent years in business, Ming Xi feared no challenge. Besides, her company mainly dealt in outdoor products, and the promotional photos occasionally posted on Bright’s official account were often provided by her personally.

When Liang Jiancheng studied in the United States, he had been an outdoor enthusiast. After returning to work in China, he had mostly given up the hobby. Now that he had a wife and child, he naturally wouldn’t attempt overly risky activities.

The “danger” he spoke of…

At most, it was probably just slightly more adventurous than pitching a tent on flat ground in the mountains to watch the sunrise. As for courage, men’s daring did indeed begin to decline after 35—Liang readily admitted that.

With changes in roles and identity came changes in mindset and values. Beliefs could shift with the times. Persisting down one path to the very end might be admirable—but Liang Jiancheng was not that kind of person. In terms of personality types, he was more of a classic reformer.

After Xinghai Technology completed its state-owned enterprise reform, Liang Jiancheng reduced his shareholding multiple times.

Although he remained the largest individual shareholder, his ownership percentage declined year by year. However, as the company’s valuation rose, the cash he obtained from selling shares increased accordingly. Combined with Mingzhou’s substantial annual profits, all of it became part of the couple’s joint assets, subject to secondary management and investment.

Since it was acquired after marriage, there was naturally no need for formality between them. Over the years, Liang Jiancheng’s investment in Mingzhou had clearly exceeded that in Xinghai Foreign Trade, which further fueled Xinghai’s desire to merge with Mingzhou.

After thorough preparation, early Saturday morning, Liang Jiancheng drove an off-road vehicle, taking Ming Xi to the campsite.

Ming Xi had thought it would just be a mountain hike—but to her surprise, they even had to take a boat to reach an island.

In the past two years, the Bright brand under Mingzhou had grown rapidly, and Liang Jiancheng fully supported her products. Whenever he needed to appear in public, he usually chose high-end Bright jackets. The brand’s design style suited his temperament well. Last year, when the central inspection team visited Xinghai Technology, the black jacket Liang Jiancheng wore in the group photo with the officials was also from Bright.

Back in the early 2000s, Liang Jiancheng’s wardrobe had been filled with international luxury brands. After Xinghai’s restructuring, due to work requirements, he mostly wore simple administrative jackets. Starting this year, aside from important meetings, he rarely wore formal suits—out of 365 days, at least 270 were spent in Bright clothing.

Whenever Bright launched new menswear, it was immediately sent to his wardrobe. Liang Jiancheng never accepted them for free—he paid for every piece at full price, truly embodying the idea of “keeping the benefits within the family.” As Professor Liang once said, before marriage, Liang Jiancheng had been a meticulous capitalist; after marriage, he became a seasoned strategist—carefully balancing things so that Ming Xi wouldn’t lose out while also safeguarding his own interests.

Brilliant. Truly brilliant!

After getting off the boat, both Liang Jiancheng and Ming Xi were dressed in Bright jackets, each carrying bulging outdoor backpacks. Ming Xi’s pack was relatively compact, but Liang Jiancheng’s backpack was astonishingly large. If not for his tall build, broad shoulders, and straight posture, from a distance he might have looked just like a 1990s migrant worker heading into the city with all his belongings on his back.

There was no helping it—winter camping made proper insulation gear absolutely essential.

After landing on the island, their first task was to find a suitable campsite. An ideal spot needed to be sheltered from the wind, face the sun, be close to a water source but not too close, and avoid hazards like cliffs or landslide-prone areas. Although Liang Jiancheng had described this trip as highly challenging, in truth, for him it was simply a chance to enjoy some leisurely, almost “playing house”-like time on the island with Ming Xi—something reserved for mature adults.

Even though he had already surveyed the terrain via satellite maps, Liang Jiancheng wanted Ming Xi to have a more authentic experience. With a trekking pole in one hand and Ming Xi’s hand in the other, he led her step by step in a personal on-site inspection. In the end, they chose an open patch surrounded by elm trees.

The elm trees were lush and dense, forming a natural sunshade. Moreover, since elms thrive in moist conditions, there was bound to be a groundwater source nearby.

Of course, this wasn’t some uninhabited island. Xinghai Technology had bought out the usage rights to the island, planning to use it as future research land. Infrastructure construction had already begun on the other side of the island, and Liang Jiancheng took advantage of the early stages of the project, when there were fewer workers on Saturdays, to bring Ming Xi for an “adventure.”

Therefore, the so-called “danger” was nothing more than an atmosphere Liang Jiancheng had carefully crafted.

Ming Xi, for her part, wasn’t afraid in the slightest.

She was very confident in the quality of her products. The gear they brought could easily handle the island’s small creatures—birds, insects, squirrels—and even if there were larger beasts, they would still be able to defend themselves safely.

As evening approached, the two prepared dinner using simple equipment.

The island’s wild ingredients were both strange and abundant. Although they had brought food with them, they enthusiastically embraced a “wilderness survival” experience—sourcing ingredients on the spot.

When they got thirsty, Liang Jiancheng used an outdoor knife to make a small incision in an elm trunk. Clear sap slowly flowed into a collection bottle—it was natural electrolyte water.

“Xi’er, go gather some moss.” In private, Liang Jiancheng occasionally used affectionate nicknames—Xiao Xi or Xi’er.

Then, Ming Xi happily accepted the elm sap Liang Jiancheng handed her, and grabbed a large handful of moss to passed it over: “Here you go!”

Liang Jiancheng carefully packed the moss into the opening in the tree trunk, his movements cautious and focused. Although he had collected the sap, out of respect for nature, sealing the opening with moss would protect the tree from insects and bacteria.

Ming Xi praised his environmental awareness repeatedly. Then, putting herself in the elm tree’s place, her playful mood took over—she cleared her throat lightly and, in a lowered voice, expressed “gritted-teeth gratitude” to Liang Jiancheng on behalf of the tree.

What the heck? Liang Jiancheng chuckled helplessly. Ming Xi’s occasional bursts of playfulness were just as childish!

As night fell, the outdoor lamps cast a warm yellow glow, and sparks flickered in the camping stove. Wrapped in thick outdoor jackets, Ming Xi and Liang Jiancheng sat side by side on the tranquil island. Above them stretched a brilliant galaxy under a cloudless sky. In the distance, the rhythmic crash of waves against rocks echoed faintly, mingling with the sounds of insects and birds in the mountains.

On the small table between them, tea simmered in a kettle, steam curling gently upward.

The moment held both the thrill of adventure and the comfort of leisure.

After all the striving in life, wasn’t this what one sought? To fully immerse oneself in nature’s gifts—to feel the breeze, hear flowing water, watch the stars, and fall asleep to the sound of the tide.

“To Boss Liang!” Ming Xi smiled and leaned forward, raising the thermos cup in her hand.

Liang Jiancheng’s lips curved slightly as he clinked his cup against hers. “To Boss Ming!”

No amount of wealth in the world could compare to the good mood of the present moment. Even the moonlight tonight did not disappoint this pair on the island… oh—this loving couple.

When night deepened, Ming Xi had expected Liang Jiancheng to prepare two sleeping bags—after all, winter nights were cold, and it was safer to keep warm separately. To her surprise, he had only brought a double sleeping bag produced by Mingzhou.

Inside the tent, the outdoor lamp cast overlapping shadows of the two.

In the shifting light, a familiar yet intimate atmosphere quietly spread. Their silhouettes moved, rising and falling, until both body and soul drew close together. On the isolated island, far from the noise of the world, beneath the low-hanging stars, their heartbeats and breathing echoed in each other’s ears.

“Liang Jiancheng, you’re so lewd!” Ming Xi’s ears turned red as she playfully scolded Liang Jiancheng in his ear.

Liang Jiancheng chuckled softly, teasingly saying, “Miss Ming, you also bear some responsibility for this. Who told your company’s products to ‘aid and abet’ evil?”

Shameless!

Ming Xi, annoyed, lifted her leg to kick him—but he caught it effortlessly, trapping her between his legs.

In the cramped space, their bodies pressed together, impossible to separate. Ming Xi once again became acutely aware of the changes in the man beside her. Flustered and irritated, she turned away, realizing she was trapped in the double sleeping bag with nowhere to escape. All she could do was attack verbally: “Liang Jiancheng, you’re almost forty—do you think you’re still in puberty?”

Liang Jiancheng smiled, no longer concerned about age. As long as he was with Ming Xi, he felt no anxiety about time.

He believed Ming Xi felt the same way.

And indeed, he was no longer in his youth—but his love for Ming Xi still burned with the intensity of youth. Even without worrying about time, he couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly it passed.

He felt like he and Ming Xi were still newlyweds, but now they’ve been married for four years.

But… only four years.

They would have at least forty years of marriage ahead of them—if he were a bit greedy, fifty, even sixty…

When he truly became an old man, Ming Xi would become a beautiful old lady. He would still hold her hand like this, pressing it to his chest. As long as his heart kept beating—

he could keep telling her that he loved her.

—

As night deepened, waves continued crashing against the island’s rocky shore. The sea breeze swept across, sending sprays of water into the air.

Anyone who loves the outdoors can feel it: time, nature, and the universe are vast and magnificent. The greatness and brilliance of life are like the endless tide—surging forward without pause, like countless tiny waves gathering into white foam, like the lingering echoes left behind as each wave recedes…

And it all echoed the spirit of Bright’s brand philosophy—fearless in the face of challenges, always moving forward.

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