A Letter from Keanu Reeves

Zhao Shengge was not the type to invite unnecessary trouble. Once he made up his mind to stop asking, he truly meant it.

Even when he occasionally heard Tan Youming or Zhuo Zhixuan bring up that name, he could remain unaffected, unmoved.

Zhao Shengge was not someone who would make the same mistake a third time.

Three strikes, and you’re out. Businessmen, above all, understood the importance of cutting losses in time.

Fortunately, Shi Zhangmin was a man of his word and quickly connected Chen Wan with the right people. Chen Wan was highly efficient and wasted no time in taking action.

Shi Zhangmin hadn’t lied—the waters here ran deep. So deep that, for a moment, even Chen Wan felt a chilling sense of unease, unsure where to even begin.

For months, Zhuo Zhixuan had barely caught a glimpse of Chen Wan. Even his replies to messages were sporadic at best. Finally, out of worry, he called directly.

“What’s going on? Are you busier than Zhao Shengge now? Monica said you skipped your follow-up last week. Seriously, Chen Wan, are you waiting for me to drag you there myself?”

Technically, doctors weren’t supposed to disclose a patient’s condition to others. But Chen Wan’s case was special, and Monica knew Zhuo Zhixuan genuinely cared. Hoping he could offer some support, she would occasionally share minor updates with him—ones that didn’t violate Chen Wan’s privacy.

Chen Wan was drowning in work, utterly overwhelmed, but hearing his friend’s concern gave him a rare moment of warmth.

“Oh, I took leave for that. I’ve just been really busy lately. Once things settle down, I’ll take you out for a meal.”

“……”

Zhuo Zhixuan, born into privilege, understood that Chen Wan was struggling but had never personally experienced what it was like to hustle for a single deal—smiling at people he didn’t respect, running himself ragged.

After a moment of silence, he sighed. “What’s going on with you? If something’s wrong, talk to us.”

“I’m fine. Just working on that same project. Lots of running around. What about you guys? How have you been?”

“Boring,” Zhuo Zhixuan muttered. “It’s no fun without you.”

Chen Wan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Even when I go, I don’t say much.”

All he did was watch the young masters enjoy themselves—he was never really part of it.

“That’s different. But actually, Zhao Shengge hasn’t been coming around much either.”

Zhuo Zhixuan hadn’t seen him much more than Chen Wan had.

Chen Wan, exhausted from his relentless hustle, had barely allowed himself a moment of distraction. But hearing that name, it was as if he was suddenly pulled out of the dreary grind, catching a glimpse of golden clouds at dawn.

A beautiful sight, vast and unreachable—another world entirely. For a fleeting moment, it was almost a relief.

“Forget about him,” Zhuo Zhixuan grumbled.

Chen Wan had been absent for so long, and yet Zhao Shengge hadn’t even asked about him—not a word. Even Jiang Ying, who had only met Chen Wan later, would occasionally check in on him.

Zhao Shengge’s indifference wasn’t in his words, his posture, or his outward demeanor.

It was in his very bones.

Zhuo Zhixuan had long since seen through him. Cold-hearted, blind, and still making trouble.

But in Chen Wan’s mind, he thought—why stop talking about him? Say more.

Zhuo Zhixuan moved on to other topics, repeatedly reminding Chen Wan not to shoulder everything alone. If he really couldn’t handle something, he had to let them know.

Chen Wan agreed to everything without hesitation.

That evening, Zhao Shengge turned down Tan Youming’s invitation.

Wherever Tan Youming and Zhuo Zhixuan were, that name was bound to come up.

Zhao Shengge didn’t want to hear it anymore.

He had no interest in Chen Wan’s affairs. He merely thought the man was foolish.

Zhao Shengge had been raised on the belief that the strong devoured the weak, that winners ruled.

He didn’t believe in divine justice. He didn’t believe in perseverance overcoming all odds.

A tortoise could only win a race against a hare in fairy tales. In reality, that was nothing more than an accident, a stroke of luck.

Those who insisted on taking the long way around deserved to suffer for it.

Until he saw Chen Wan again—at the casino hotel in Galaxy Bay.

Thinner.

Like a withered leaf, drained of its last bit of moisture. Zhao Shengge almost couldn’t recognize him as the one who had once drifted, unbidden, into his window.

He wore a simple yet luxurious black silk shirt that accentuated the elegance of his face. His tailored dress pants fit snugly, cinched at the waist.

A flawless smile on his lips, he toasted glasses and played cards, effortlessly navigating the crowd.

Charming and adaptable, thriving on a combination of good looks and an easygoing nature.

The poker chips, gold coins, and betting stakes made him look different from his usual refined and gentle self.

More vulgar.

So vulgar, in fact, that it stirred an inexplicable desire.

Chen Wan was stunning. But because of his lower status, there was a fragility to his deference—a sense of bending at the waist, breaking apart, making him unbearably enticing to watch.

Beneath the dazzling lights, Zhao Shengge couldn’t make out his true expression. So he made an assumption—it was a mask, an act, a numb and hollow performance, yet dangerously captivating.

He had half a mind to call Zhuo Zhixuan and Tan Youming, to show them what their dear friend had become.

Zhao Shengge had sworn never to cross the line again, but he figured that a moment of pity wouldn’t hurt.

Minglong’s monthly donations to charity were far greater than this, after all.

But in the end, Zhao Shengge had been too arrogant.

When his secretary reported that the project had already been shortlisted before they could even intervene, he finally looked up from the reports.

The secretary flipped open the file, saying something to him. Slowly, Zhao Shengge furrowed his brows.

That same morning, when Kexiang’s partners called to inform Chen Wan that they had won the bid, the tension he had carried for an entire month finally snapped.

It felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff, only to suddenly land on solid ground.

He had even prepared for the worst, especially after that night in Galaxy Bay when he had drunk so much and the other party had refused to budge.

But once again, reality proved otherwise.

Hard work was rewarded. Efforts weren’t wasted.

Chen Wan was overjoyed. He had promised to take Zhuo Zhixuan out for a celebratory meal.

But before he could do so, Zhuo Zhixuan arrived first—furious and demanding answers.

“Chen Wan, are you out of your damn mind? You attended the customs hearing? You showed up to testify? If no one had told me, I wouldn’t have even known! Who gave you the guts to do this?!”

If it weren’t for the fact that he had family members working in customs, he wouldn’t have known that Chen Wan had participated as a third-party inspection representative, testifying in a major foreign trade smuggling case. The case implicated a series of officials involved in corruption and bribery, making it a politically charged issue. Anyone caught in the crossfire would be used as a pawn in factional struggles—something most people would avoid at all costs.

When Zhuang Zhixuan heard that Chen Wan had attended, he was scared out of his wits.

“Do you have any idea who’s backing Luo Qiansheng? You think a single hearing is enough to bring him down? That’s way too naive! Let me tell you, once someone pulls the right strings and gets him out, you’ll be nothing but a discarded pawn—stripped of your leverage and left to be slaughtered.”

Chen Wan calmly waited for him to finish venting before explaining in an even tone, “Ah Xuan, that’s just how business works. You win some, you lose some.”

If he wanted that project, he had to pay the price. The people he aligned with wanted to take down the Luo faction. He had the professional credentials to serve as a third-party witness in the case. Others wouldn’t dare, but he would—so the deal was his.

That single sentence ignited Zhuang Zhixuan’s temper even further. He was utterly fed up with his friend’s stubbornness, his refusal to compromise once he had made up his mind.

“So this is your so-called solution? Your way of handling things? Haven’t I told you before—if you ever find yourself in a situation you can’t fix, you have to let me know? That we’ll figure it out together? I said that, didn’t I? And you agreed, didn’t you? Was that just lip service? Were you just humoring me? Or do you not trust me at all?”

“Fine, maybe I can’t fix it myself, but isn’t Tan Youming still around? And if he can’t handle it, what about Shen Zongnian? Worst case scenario, I’ll go beg Zhao Shengge! I’ll personally go to his door and ask him for help! Is there anything in Haishi that Zhao Shengge can’t solve?!”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?! Why is it that you can go to anyone else for help, but you refuse to turn to Zhao Shengge? Is he really that special? That untouchable?”

Zhuang Zhixuan was truly furious now, his voice cracking with frustration.

“Chen Wan, you’re always like this! You never listen to anyone! You refuse to accept help! Do you think it’s noble to only give and never ask for anything in return? Do you think walking a razor’s edge makes you brave?!”

Back when Chen Wan was just starting out, he had done far more extreme things. He drank himself into a stomach hemorrhage just to secure a deal. He played a game of target shooting with an official, gambling with his own life just for an approval document.

On the surface, he seemed like a quiet, gentlemanly figure. But in reality, he was a madman—ruthless to others, even more ruthless to himself, stopping at nothing to achieve his goals.

Zhuang Zhixuan had always said that if only he had more power, if only he wasn’t just a useless rich kid with an empty title, then maybe he could actually help his friend when he needed it.

Whenever he said that, Chen Wan would just look at him in confusion and say, “What nonsense are you talking about? What does that have to do with you?”

It was never about anyone else. It was about the fact that Chen Wan refused to be a trampled-on insect in the Chen family. It was his own decision to inch closer to Zhao Shengge.

He made his choice. And he had to bear the consequences himself.

But this time, Zhuang Zhixuan was truly, utterly furious. So furious that his lungs felt like they might burst. When he started cursing, he didn’t hold back.

“Chen Wan, let’s be honest. I know people like Tan Youming and Shen Zongnian don’t even count as real friends to you. And don’t bother denying it. You think just because you always act considerate, always lend a hand when people need it, I wouldn’t notice how you actually keep strict boundaries between yourself and everyone else?”

“I know all that. And fine, whatever. But what about me?! Have you ever considered me a real friend?!”

“Ask yourself. Have you? The moment Zhuang Shengyan pushed me into the water and everyone else just stood by to watch, you were the only one who jumped in to save me. From that moment on, I saw you as my best, best friend. But you—what do you really think of me?”

“Was it really that hard to tell me about this? You think you’re so self-sufficient, so invincible. But in reality, you’re just cold-blooded. Heartless. You, Chen Wan, the one who seems the most loyal and righteous—you’re actually the most detached, the most ruthless of all.”

Zhuang Zhixuan’s voice was nearly unhinged. He was furious at Chen Wan’s stubbornness, but even more so at his own helplessness.

“What kind of business deal is so important that you have to risk everything for it?! That you have to throw yourself into the fire?!”

“What’s the worst that could happen if you fail? Will Kexiang go bankrupt?!”

“I do see you as my friend!”

Out of everything, this was the one accusation Chen Wan could not let stand.

He went silent for a moment, then lowered his voice and said, “I have no other friends, Ah Xuan.”