Chapter 39:


The story ended. Ji Xingyao turned to look at Mu Jinpei—his eyes were tightly shut, and his Adam’s apple moved slightly from time to time. She gently set the art book aside, lowered her head, and kissed his forehead.
“Go to sleep. Sweet dreams.”

Mu Jinpei had completely lost any trace of sleepiness, but he didn’t want to open his eyes and let her see the emotion stirring within them. Suddenly, he raised his hand, pulled her into his arms, one hand pressing gently on the back of her head to rest her face against his chest, while the other hand turned off the light.

The room fell into complete darkness. Ji Xingyao couldn’t see anything.

Mu Jinpei adjusted the blanket to cover them both. Still, no sound came from him.

The story was too beautiful, so beautiful it was something he’d never dared to dream of before. He’d never had the right.

As she told the story, he couldn’t help but imagine what an adorable little girl she’d be. When she called him “Dad” in that soft little voice, it would melt anyone’s heart. But sadly, he wasn’t lucky enough to be someone’s father. For him, that was a luxury.

The sun was already high in the sky by the time Mu Jinpei got out of bed, it was the latest he’d ever arrived at the office.

Shu Zheng noticed his boss looked unwell, and after sat down, kept rubbing his temples. He assumed the chronic headaches were acting up again.
“President Mu, should we consider consulting a neurospecialist at a different hospital?”

They didn’t have to stick with the one where Luo Song worked.

Mu Jinpei replied, “It’s not a headache.”
He never treated Shu Zheng like an outsider. Even when it came to personal matters, he would sometimes share a little.
“Since I’ve been with Xingyao, I haven’t had a single headache.”

He picked up the strong coffee Shu Zheng had brought, drank half a cup, and got to work.

Shu Zheng grew worried. Once everything with the Ji Group was over and they returned to New York, what would the boss do? Ji Xingyao was like his emotional painkiller—once the “medicine” was gone, it could crush him.

With a quiet sigh, Shu Zheng started reporting updates on the Ji Group.
“Their production line’s experiencing issues, but for now it’s not enough to disrupt operations.”

Mu Jinpei paused slightly with his pen, then after a moment’s thought, said,
“Let that person do whatever they can to keep it under wraps. Don’t let Ji Changsheng know for now. We’ll give him a surprise when everything explodes at once.”

Shu Zheng nodded. By the time the Ji Group’s funding dried up and their operations and management broke down, even Ji Changsheng’s talent wouldn’t be able to save them.

The following days passed calmly.

Every night, Ji Xingyao reads Mu Jinpei a bedtime story. The content changed each time, always vivid and creative. The little girl in those stories had become etched into his memory.

He often imagined—if he really had a daughter, she would definitely look like Ji Xingyao: beautiful, adorable, clever and mischievous, a bit temperamental, multi-talented, and with a captivating soul.

She’d cling to him like Xingyao did, sharing all her emotions with him. He would be her biggest support and safety net. She’d be free to do whatever she loved.

He’d give her the best of everything in the world, carry her on his shoulders, and show her the wonders of life.

Every night during her stories, he let himself dream—just briefly—even if he knew it was out of reach, even if it was just a beautiful fantasy.

Tonight, after finishing the story, Ji Xingyao fell asleep early.

Mu Jinpei gently moved her off of him, got out of bed, and went to his study.
There, he wrote an email to his future daughter.

…

[Email draft]

The first time I heard your name, the first time I knew you, was through your mother’s story.
It was a beautiful, beautiful story.
You were a lovely and adorable little princess.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to meet you in this life—
Actually, I know I won’t.
But I still lie to myself and hope,
Even though I know I’m a selfish and greedy father,
A shameless and heartless husband.
I still want to fantasize—just a little—
About what it would be like to hear you call me “Dad.”

I wish so much that in the next life, we could be father and daughter.
And I hope my wife will still be Ji Xingyao—your mother will still be her.

No matter where you are—whether in the future,
Or only in your mom’s stories—
Remember: Dad loves you. And he loves your mom.

Thank you for coming.
For staying with me during the most painful, tormented, and desperate time of my life.

…

He didn’t know what to fill in for the recipient, so he simply saved the email.

…

April arrived, with perfect weather.

Ji Xingyao had been attending classes at the training center for a week and was starting to get used to it.

In her first class, everything the instructor said sounded like a foreign language—she couldn’t understand a thing. It wasn’t until she got tutoring from Uncle Zhang at home that she started to catch up with the rest of the class. Among this batch of students, she was the only woman, and the others treated her kindly.

During theory classes, she followed the routine like everyone else. But once they moved to simulator training, she found out who her flight instructor was—Xie Yuncheng.

He was only assigned to teach her.

Today, Ji Xingyao put on her flight suit, a blue-and-white one. She thought she looked pretty good—until she saw Xie Yuncheng in his instructor’s uniform, which made him look even more striking.

“Why is it you?” she asked, puzzled. A big-time businessman wouldn’t bother with something like this for the money.

Xie Yuncheng’s expression was as blank as ever.
“Why wouldn’t it be me?”

Then he gave her a perfectly logical explanation:
“You know full well Mu Jinpei doesn’t like me, and he hates helicopters.
If something happened to you under someone else’s instruction, he’d kill me.
At least if I’m with you in the air, he won’t worry as much.”

Ji Xingyao understood. Since he’d be in the helicopter too, it would ease Mu Jinpei’s nerves and doubts.
It was a solid excuse—respectable and reasonable.

During training, her impression of Xie Yuncheng improved. At least now he doesn’t annoy her as much. She used to see him as an arrogant jerk with no manners.

Xie Yuncheng was extremely strict with her. Fortunately, she wasn’t slow and could keep up. But she still made mistakes from time to time, and he’d already yelled at her twice.

Time flew by during flight training.

By June, her piloting skills had improved significantly.

It was also in June that she learned Tang Jialai had resigned from M.K. Gallery.

Before heading overseas, Tang Jialai asked her to meet for lunch. Her flight out of Beijing was that evening.

Ji Xingyao had flight training in the afternoon, so she got permission to leave early. In case of traffic, she might be a bit late returning but promised to try her best to be on time.

“You left so suddenly,” Ji Xingyao said when she arrived. Tang Jialai had already been waiting and had even ordered some fruit for her.

“Eat something chilled first,” Tang Jialai said, placing the fruit plate in front of her. Then she answered the question.
“I just suddenly felt like it wasn’t worth it anymore.”

“Because of Xie Yuncheng?”

“Not entirely.”

Tang Jialai didn’t want to talk about him.
“I originally planned to leave without saying anything—thought I’d catch up with you after I got back. But I was worried you might suddenly reach out when I’m gone and blame me for not telling you.”

After thinking it over, she decided to meet before leaving.

“Why would I blame you?” Ji Xingyao asked, concerned.
“So, where are you going? When will you be back?”

“South Africa. Doesn’t the Ji Group have a project there?
I’ll be training with the project team.” Tang Jialai gave a wry smile.
“My dad said since both he and Uncle Ji don’t have sons, it’s just you and me—
But we’re both off doing our own things, not interested in the business at all.
He’s worried that by the time they’re old and the company’s handed off,
We’ll have no idea what went wrong or where the money went.”

Ji Xingyao laughed, “That kind of makes sense.”

Tang Jialai said, “I’ve been away from my field for too long.
But I’ve started to find management interesting.
Lately, I’ve noticed how old my dad’s gotten—he’s constantly stressed,
Worried about me and the company.
He’s got gray hair now.
I figured I could help take on a little of the burden.”

“International projects are tough,” Ji Xingyao reminded her.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Of course not, I’m not that dumb,” Tang Jialai said, handing Ji Xingyao a glass of water and clinking glasses with her. “Good luck getting your pilot license, and make sure you and Mu Jinpei are doing well—don’t focus only on painting. Oh, and thank him for me. He warned me early on that things with Xie Yuncheng would never work out, but I was too stubborn to listen.”

Truthfully, even now, she hadn’t fully let go. But she knew she couldn’t keep trapping herself in the same place.

The two of them talked through the whole lunch, barely touching the food.

Worried about Ji Xingyao’s flight training in the afternoon, Tang Jialai ended the meal a bit early.

Downstairs, they said goodbye with a simple hug, no extra words.

Even so, Ji Xingyao ended up being two minutes late.

It was the first time Xie Yuncheng had waited for someone. He glanced at his watch—despite it being the height of summer in June, his gaze was like a frostbite.
“Ji Xingyao, you think this is your home or something?”

She had asked for leave in advance, but clearly, he was looking for reasons to nitpick. She simply said, “Sorry.”

Xie Yuncheng narrowed his eyes at her. “You realize how valuable my time is?”

Ji Xingyao forced a polite smile. “Of course. My time is just as valuable as yours, Mr. Xie. You showed up at my studio unannounced before and wasted quite a bit of it. I was heartbroken.”

Xie Yuncheng scoffed and started digging up the past again—this woman was endlessly annoying.
“When are you breaking up with Mu Jinpei?”

Ji Xingyao: “…”
She nearly didn’t register what he said. She crossed her arms and gave him a leisurely look. “You’re never going to see that day in this lifetime.”

Xie Yuncheng couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. “Let me know when you do. I’ll get you a new flight instructor.”

The implication was clear—she only had the honor of being trained by him because of Mu Jinpei.

He really had a foul mouth—arrogant, conceited, and completely dismissive of others.

That afternoon’s flight training ran half an hour late. Once it ended, Ji Xingyao rushed back to the city. Whenever she had time, she still liked to stop by her studio.

The moment the car hit the city center; the traffic jam began. Ji Xingyao leaned against the car window, watching the beautiful summer clouds. Maybe happy days always pass faster than usual. She and Mu Jinpei had already been together for half a year.

To Mu Jinpei, that feeling was even more intense. Time seemed to pass in monthly units—he blinked, and it was already the end of June. Time couldn’t be held back.

In July, the Ji Group received their second investment payment. Over the past six months, Ji Changsheng had found no flaws in Mu Jinpei’s actions—no clues at all.

His guard was slowly dropping.

Tang Hongkang came to report in after returning from South Africa, where he personally oversaw the Ji Group’s project. He was also managing the company’s production.

Ji Changsheng was reviewing the current quarter’s sales report. Sales had dropped 15%—enough to raise alarm bells. If it continued like this, the next quarter’s report would look terrible.

“Have you seen the sales figures?” he asked.

Tang Hongkang replied, “Yes. I looked them over on the flight.”

Honestly, he didn’t even need to look. That 15% figure was already padded—the real drop was more than double.

Ji Changsheng said, “I want you to personally visit all the major regions.”

Tang Hongkang nodded. “That was my plan as soon as I got back.”

Work talk had been frustrating, so Tang shifted the topic. “What’s Yaoyao been up to lately? Still spending all her time in the studio?”

When it came to his daughter, Ji Changsheng could finally set aside his worries. “She’s studying for a pilot license. Old Master Mu gave her and Mu Jinpei a helicopter, and she got it in her head to fly it herself.”

In addition to flight school, Ji Xingyao had been coming home more often. On weekends, she’d return with Mu Jinpei for family meals. Mu Jinpei even started helping in the kitchen and had learned to cook two dishes.

Tang Hongkang looked envious. “Once you retire, you’ll get to enjoy the good life. Unlike me, I’m still worrying constantly. My daughter? Don’t even know what goes on in her head half the time.”

He sighed.

Ji Changsheng replied, “Children have their own blessings. Don’t stress yourself out over them.”

Tang asked, “When’s Xingyao planning to get married? I heard from Jialai that Mu Jinpei proposed a long time ago. I haven’t even had a chance to congratulate her.”

Ji Changsheng wasn’t sure what to feel. Sometimes he thought he was being paranoid—too suspicious. He’d projected all his unresolved doubts and fears onto Mu Jinpei.

He kept trying to convince himself to let go. Just because Mu Jinpei had a face and eyes that resembled the Gu family didn’t necessarily mean anything. After all, there were people in the world who looked alike without being related by blood.

But sometimes, he feared that a single oversight could ruin his daughter’s future happiness.
What if Mu Jinpei really was from the Gu family?

He stayed conflicted.
Some nights, he even had nightmares.

In those dreams, scenes from the past would replay—blurred during sleep but vivid as soon as he woke up.

He pushed those thoughts aside and told Tang Hongkang,
“We can’t control everything about the younger generation. Let them decide for themselves.”

…

In September, Pei Yu told Mu Jinpei she wanted to return to New York for a while. It had been over half a year since she last visited.

Maybe she was going back to be with her father. Mu Jinpei didn’t press—he could tell that things had softened a bit between his parents. His father came to Beijing nearly every month lately.

It was one of the few things that had made him happy this year.

In October, Xingyao passed her flight certification. She said that once she gained more experience, she’d fly the helicopter and take him on vacation.

In November, it had been a full year since they met.

Just one more month, and the year would come to an end.

“President Mu,” Shu Zheng reported, “The final installment of Ji Group’s investment—the largest portion—will be transferred by the end of December.”

He glanced at his boss, then quickly looked down, sighing internally.

Mu Jinpei signed documents. Whether from distraction or too much pressure, the pen tore through the paper.

What Shu Zheng had just said was a reminder—the trap they’d laid for Ji Changsheng was almost ready to spring. In just over a month, maybe two at most, everything would be laid bare—ruthlessly.

Which also meant: his time with Ji Xingyao was running out. The countdown had truly begun.

Originally, his plan was to take two years. But thanks to the internal cooperation at Ji Group, and with Xie Junyi’s secret assistance—not to mention some strokes of luck, they’d shortened the timeline by nearly half.

He had spent the whole year counting the days, hoping things would move quickly and not fall apart. But deep down, he also wished time would slow down; he just wanted a little longer with her.

Regardless of how fast or slow it felt, winter had come.

“President Mu,” Shu Zheng said, waiting for instructions.

Mu Jinpei snapped back to reality. Without looking up, he waved his hand.

Shu Zheng hesitated to speak. He understood the pain and struggle his boss was going through. He took the signed documents and quietly left.

Sunrise. Sunset. Dusk fell.

Another day passed, and only then did Mu Jinpei finally accept the truth; he and Ji Xingyao would soon part ways. He drank a cup of cold tea to anchor himself back to reason.

Then he called Shu Zheng in and began giving orders for the next steps.

When Shu Zheng entered, Mu Jinpei stood with his hands in his pockets, facing the window with his back to him. He couldn’t tell what expression his boss had.

“President Mu,” Shu Zheng greeted.

Mu Jinpei didn’t waste words. His tone was icy cold, devoid of any emotion.
“Prepare financing channels for RuiChen Group. Make sure their operations remain unaffected.”

Shu Zheng replied, “Understood.”
He had already prepared multiple contingency plans to ensure nothing would go wrong.

Mu Jinpei said, “Once Ji Group’s capital chain breaks, Ji Changsheng will try to use the Ji family’s network to save himself. When the time comes, pass my message to him—if he doesn’t want to drag his relatives down with him, he’d better give up on rescuing Ji Group. Otherwise, they’ll end up just like him—either bankrupt or ruined.”

“What about Vice Chairman Xie’s losses?”

“That’s his own problem.”

Shu Zheng didn’t dare speak further. He had a strong feeling that this failed investment would deal a fatal blow to Xie Junyi’s chances in the next M.K. board election.

After a few seconds of internal struggle, he still asked what he had been holding back: “Then… what about Miss Ji?”

The office fell silent.

Shu Zheng waited quietly for instructions. Minutes passed—so long he thought his boss wasn’t going to answer at all.

“I don’t know,” Mu Jinpei finally said.

Shu Zheng froze. It was the first time he had ever heard such a reply from his boss.

“You can go.”

“Alright.” Shu Zheng filled his glass with water before quietly leaving the office.

Mu Jinpei sat alone on the sofa for a while, his mind blank.

By the time he got home, it was already past ten at night. Ji Xingyao was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone.

“Yaoyao.”

“You’re back.”

“Mm.”

Mu Jinpei stood at the doorway. “Come here.”

“Coming, coming.” Ji Xingyao put down her phone and jumped off the couch, barefoot, running to him.

Mu Jinpei scooped her up with one arm, just like he always did.

Ji Xingyao wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, and the two of them shared a passionate kiss.

It lasted until his arm grew sore, and he finally set her down. Just as she was about to turn and run back to the sofa, Mu Jinpei pulled her into his arms again.

“Let go, I need to check something,” she said, still thinking about the page on her phone.

Mu Jinpei didn’t let go. He picked her up again. “What’s so important?”

Ji Xingyao replied, “I’ve been looking at helicopter models lately. Once I’m more experienced at flying, I plan to buy one.”

Mu Jinpei looked at her. “When are you taking me on a trip?”

“Not this year.” She hooked her arms around his neck. “Once I’m confident and can handle any emergency. By next summer at the latest—soon.”

“Can’t it be earlier?”

Ji Xingyao smiled. “I wish, but let’s be real—are you really brave enough to get on a helicopter piloted by a rookie like me?”

Mu Jinpei nodded, staring at her like he wanted to etch her into his memory.

Even though he nodded, Ji Xingyao didn’t take it seriously. She thought he was just trying to encourage her. Still, since he rarely expressed himself this way, she decided to train harder and surprise him by spring.

When the flowers bloom, she’d take him to fly around the countryside estate first.

Mu Jinpei carried her upstairs. “Yaoyao.”

Ji Xingyao was tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertip. “Mm?”

Mu Jinpei looked down at her. “Let’s get married.”

Ji Xingyao froze; her finger nearly scratched his face. The surprise hit too suddenly—she wasn’t ready and feared she misheard. “You said… we should get married?”

Mu Jinpei nodded. “It’s almost been a year since we got together. Let’s register on Christmas.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he forced out the words. “Didn’t you say you wanted to give me a home? Let it be this year, please?”

Ji Xingyao responded with a deep kiss.

And from there, things spiraled out of control.

That night, their passion burned hotter than ever before—so intense that even the sheets tore.