Chi Yao scoffed, “Why should I be embarrassed? Don’t you all want gifts on your birthdays?”

Everyone would always bring gifts for each other, never showing up empty-handed.

“You’re fighting with your son over gifts? That’s something we’d never do,” Feng Ming interjected.

As close friends, they’d all grown comfortable around each other.

“It’s all the same to me; after all, everything here is mine.” Chi Yao pulled his son into his arms.

“This little one is mine. Everything he has belongs to me.”

The little one exclaimed, “Mine!” He clutched his gifts protectively, refusing to let his dad take them.

“Daddy, you’re mean! I’m not giving them to you! They’re mine!” The little one held on tightly, making everyone burst out laughing.

---

Although Chi Yao received many gifts, he was most eager for the one from Fu Rong, who seemed to be running late due to something important.

As dinner began and Fu Rong still hadn’t arrived, Chi Yao decided to go ahead with the meal. The little one, happily busy unwrapping his toys, didn’t notice Fu Rong’s absence. But without Fu Rong there, Chi Yao felt an unexpected emptiness at the table.

That person had quietly settled in Chi Yao’s heart. Gifts didn’t matter as much; as long as Fu Rong was there, that was enough. Chi Yao already had everything he needed: wealth, power, and an adorable child.

Just as Chi Yao was about to call, the door opened. Fu Rong entered with a file folder in hand—not quite a gift, more like paperwork.

Chi Yao raised an eyebrow, looking at the folder. Fu Rong went to greet the little one first, who shouted “Daddy!” and then continued tearing open his gifts. Fu Rong sat down beside Chi Yao, who eyed the documents. “Set them aside,” he said, as documents didn’t belong on the dining table.

But Fu Rong handed the folder to Chi Yao, “This is your gift.” Chi Yao looked surprised. What could Fu Rong possibly be giving him?

Inside the folder were multiple documents, including a life insurance policy with Chi Yao as the beneficiary, as well as a large portion of Fu Rong’s company shares.

Chi Yao glanced at Fu Rong. “For me?”

Nearby, Xue Zhongming leaned over, catching a glimpse of the “share transfer” wording. Though he didn’t pry, he had an idea of Fu Rong’s intentions and was touched by the depth of Fu Rong’s affection for Chi Yao.

“Yes,” Fu Rong nodded. “I couldn’t think of anything else, so I hope this will do.” Fu Rong noticed Chi Yao’s displeased expression, realizing he had miscalculated.

Chi Yao looked at the life insurance policy again, irritated by the implication that Fu Rong might face an untimely end. Without a second thought, he tore the policy in half, letting the pieces fall to the floor.

“Don’t let me see something like this again,” he snapped. Many hadn’t seen Chi Yao this angry, even Fu Rong. But instead of feeling upset, Fu Rong felt a pang of regret. He had thought the gesture would mean something, yet it only upset Chi Yao. To Chi Yao, Fu Rong’s presence was the best gift he could give.

Fu Rong lowered his head, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Chi Yao’s anger began to subside, and he softened. “I understand your intentions, but don’t show me things like this again. I’ll be just fine, with you and our little one, for a long time.”

“Alright, let’s eat.” Chi Yao pulled himself together, smiling to lighten the mood.

Fu Rong gently held his hand, a warm expression in his eyes. Chi Yao looked back and returned his smile.

With that, they resumed their meal, leaving this minor conflict behind. Chi Yao kept the shares and would simply enjoy the dividends.

At first, the show on the website didn’t attract much attention. Despite the engaging storyline and positive reviews from viewers, it remained largely unnoticed.

Months later, however, a clip suddenly went viral. The clip showed a young man standing silently at a graveyard, holding a bouquet of white roses. The gravestone featured a black-and-white photo of a delicate-looking young woman—his fiancée. Beside the roses, he had placed a pair of white baby shoes.

The young man simply stood there under a blue sky, sunlight somehow bypassing him. He didn’t say a word, and his face showed little expression, but the silent tears streaming from his eyes captivated viewers immediately. The haunting sadness in his eyes pulled countless people in as they watched, frame by frame, the subtle changes in his face and the final tear slipping down his cheek. Despite his role as a villain who had caused harm, viewers found themselves empathizing with him, imagining how they, too, might react in such tragic circumstances.

That evening, the video went viral, and the web drama gained a sudden surge of interest, primarily due to this scene of the villain crying. Someone even created another clip of the character’s final moments, in which he smiles while stepping into traffic, his body sent flying by a car.

In that instant, his smile—completely devoid of pretense—reflected true happiness and peace. He had avenged his wife and child, so he had no regrets and was ready to join them.

The young man, with his strikingly handsome and refined features, initially made viewers wonder if he was just a pretty face. Yet his portrayal, even with limited scenes focusing more on other characters investigating him, felt more like a documentary than fiction.

Drawn to the young man, viewers started paying attention to the show’s other characters. While none had his near-perfect looks, the cast’s acting was strong, and the story itself was captivating. People began searching for information on the young man but found only a single name—one that appeared to be false.

Some fans asked the other main actors about Chi Yao, who they only knew was a temporary addition, someone they lost touch with after filming. However, it was known that Chi Yao was married to Fu Rong, with whom he had a child, and that his acting was just a hobby; he had no real interest in the industry.

The viral nature of Chi Yao’s sudden fame caught even Fu Rong’s attention. His assistant informed him, as Fu Rong had anticipated this might happen given Chi Yao’s past brief viral fame due to a photo that was quickly taken down.

In the celebrity world, fans quickly latch onto good looks, which was why Fu Rong preferred Chi Yao stay out of the limelight. Now that Chi Yao had unexpectedly gone viral, with people likely digging for his personal details, Fu Rong instructed the assistant to monitor the situation closely. He wanted to avoid the intrusion of fans into their private lives.

The assistant, seeming to have more to say, handed Fu Rong a phone displaying a video with Chi Yao on the thumbnail. The comment count was in the tens of thousands. Fu Rong clicked play in the silent office, where even the faintest sound could be heard.

After watching, Fu Rong’s expression turned dark. It was supposed to be a performance, yet it felt strikingly real.

Was it real?

It couldn’t be, since their child was healthy. But when Chi Yao placed the baby shoes down, the grief in his eyes felt genuine, his tear hauntingly familiar. Searching his memories, Fu Rong realized he had never seen Chi Yao cry in such despair before, as if he had lost everything and was ready to follow.

“There’s another video,” the assistant said, sensing Fu Rong’s reaction and pulling up the next clip.

The auto-playing video showed Chi Yao’s character, the villain, confronting the protagonists. He confessed to his crimes, unrepentant, saying he was ready to see his family again. Before the heroes could stop him, he ran into traffic, ultimately lying on the ground with blood pooling around him, still smiling as he closed his eyes in acceptance of his fate.

Watching this scene, Fu Rong knew it was fiction, yet something about it felt unsettlingly real.