A Letter from Keanu Reeves

Two hours ago, Chen Wan departed from the outer ring road.

He had been on a business trip outside the city today, and he needed navigation to reach Baoli Bay. As the future largest golden port in the next decade, Baoli Bay was still in its infancy. Especially from the outer ring road, the area was sparsely populated, with only a few scattered and unremarkable factories.

The road was empty, and his car moved smoothly along the way. However, when he reached Ring Road 375, he spotted several vehicles engaged in a chase ahead.

To be precise, two large Jeeps were boxing in a Sharon Martin, forcing it into a tight and erratic course. The rear trunk and taillights of the Sharon Martin were already damaged, giving it a battered and desperate appearance.

Chen Wan had no idea what was going on and had no intention of getting involved. He simply stepped on the gas to overtake them.

As he passed by, the Sharon Martin flashed its emergency lights at him frantically, signaling for help. Chen Wan ignored it until his headlights illuminated the back seat—inside, there was a woman.

Her face wasn’t clearly visible, but her hands were pressed against the window in a pleading posture.

This area was coastal and undeveloped, with only the most basic guardrails at the bends. Incidents of carjackings and vehicles plunging into the sea were not uncommon.

Chen Wan glanced at his watch, pressed his lips together, and slowed down. Then, suddenly, he executed a sharp U-turn, catching the two Jeeps off guard.

Fortunately, today he was driving a sturdy car—built to withstand impact.

But the two Jeeps were instantly enraged. More aggressive than the Rolls-Royce from last time, their engines roared with fury, and in their reckless vengeance, they targeted Chen Wan with no regard for consequences. The Jeeps flanked him and rammed his car, snapping off his side mirror.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, Chen Wan felt the violent impact. His phone, flashing with an incoming call, slipped from his pocket into the gap between the seats.

Damn it. He cursed under his breath. His vision blurred slightly, his breathing heavy. The collision had shattered his headlights, leaving him to rely purely on instinct to navigate the pitch-dark road.

His Volkswagen couldn’t outlast the Jeeps in a prolonged chase. Chen Wan decided to end this quickly.

He rolled down the window. Inside the Sharon Martin, both the front and back passengers rolled down theirs in sync.

Finally, he saw the woman’s face clearly. He was briefly stunned.

No time to think. He gestured to the driver in the front seat of the Sharon Martin. The driver immediately understood, stepped on the gas, and sped away. As soon as there was enough distance, Chen Wan swerved sharply, bringing his car to a dead stop in the middle of the road.

If the Jeeps insisted on relentlessly chasing the Sharon Martin, his Volkswagen would undoubtedly be rammed off the guardrail and into the sea.

But he gambled that they wouldn’t risk mutual destruction.

As expected, the Jeeps slammed on their brakes at the last second to avoid a direct collision. However, the force of inertia still sent a heavy impact to Chen Wan’s car. His airbags deployed, and his seatbelt pulled tight, keeping him from being thrown out. But his head slammed forward with a sickening thud, making a chilling sound.

Dizzy and seeing stars, Chen Wan didn’t wait to recover. Acting purely on instinct, he restarted the car and sped away.

The Sharon Martin had already seized the opportunity to escape far ahead. The two Jeeps, realizing they had no chance of catching up, instead memorized the license plate of the lunatic who had interfered.

Chen Wan escorted the Sharon Martin until they reached the bright lights of the city before finally stopping.

He had no intention of making an acquaintance. Just as he was about to signal a turn, the woman from the back seat quickly stepped out and approached his window, politely knocking.

He had no choice but to roll it down.

The woman was very young and beautiful. Even after such a terrifying ordeal, she remained composed and graceful. With a grateful smile, she said, “Sir, thank you so much for lending a hand just now. May I ask your name?”

Chen Wan’s head was still spinning. He steadied his breathing and smiled slightly. “My last name is Chen.”

“Mr. Chen,” the woman took out a business card and offered it to him with both hands. “My name is Xu Zhiying. May I be your friend?”

She genuinely wanted to offer some form of compensation, but judging by his car and demeanor, he didn’t seem like someone in need of money. And to directly propose a financial reward would be impolite. So, she phrased it this way.

Chen Wan couldn’t refuse her gesture, so he accepted the card and replied, “Sure.”

Feeling a bit apologetic, he added, “But I don’t carry business cards with me. Sorry.”

“That’s all right.”

Chen Wan glanced down at the card, which carried a faint, elegant fragrance.

Miss Xu—rumored to have returned to the country alongside Zhao Shengge and to be engaged to him.

Xu Zhiying had initially been out inspecting a promising but overlooked piece of land. To keep a low profile, she had brought only a driver. Afterward, she had planned to head straight to Baoli Bay for the evening banquet.

The two Jeeps that had ambushed her likely belonged to the Zhao family’s rivals. Believing the rumors of an alliance between the Xu and Zhao families, they had found no way to target Zhao Shengge directly, so they had set their sights on her instead.

And they had chosen today—of all days, the day of the grand banquet—to stir up trouble, hoping to create a media storm that would taint Minglong’s auspicious momentum.

Moreover, the Xu family was also involved in the Baoli Bay project. Even if the incident didn’t completely sabotage the deal, it could at least sow discord between the two families—a perfect two-birds-with-one-stone strategy.

Xu Zhiying looked at Chen Wan’s slightly pale face and asked with concern, “Are you hurt? Let me take you to a hospital. Your forehead and arm are bleeding—you should get checked properly.”

The impact earlier had been so violent that even sitting in the backseat, she had been jostled enough to feel nauseous. She couldn’t imagine how it felt for him, the driver.

Chen Wan smiled politely and declined. “No need, Miss Xu. I don’t feel unwell. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Noting her attire, he assumed she was also heading to the Baoli Bay banquet. Thoughtfully, he suggested, “If you have things to do, you should go ahead.”

Still worried, Xu Zhiying asked, “What about you? Did this delay anything important for you?”

She noticed that he was dressed formally, clearly having put effort into his appearance. But after the chaos of the chase, his tie was crooked, his collar and cuffs were wrinkled, and he looked slightly disheveled.

Yet his face remained strikingly handsome.

A wave of guilt suddenly washed over her.

Perhaps he had been on his way to an important event, one he had been looking forward to. And she had disrupted it entirely.

Chen Wan didn’t want to trouble others and said, “It’s fine. I’ll just reschedule with my friend.”

“How about I take you to the hospital for a check-up—”

“There’s really no need. I’m fine, Miss Xu.”

Seeing how firmly he refused, Xu Zhiying didn’t insist further but emphasized once more, “Alright then, Mr. Chen. But if you feel unwell later, please make sure to contact me. I’m not just saying this out of politeness; otherwise, I won’t feel at ease.”

Chen Wan was slightly startled. This Miss Xu appeared gentle and refined, yet her words carried a certain authority. He smiled. “Miss Xu, I’m really fine. Don’t worry.”

After Xu Zhiying left, Chen Wan parked his car by the roadside and rolled up his sleeve to check his arm.

As expected, there was a wound with dried blood stuck to his white shirt.

He had felt a faint pain earlier, and now a large area was swollen—probably from when he had turned too sharply while blocking the Jeeps and slammed into the car window.

There were also some abrasions on his forehead, not too noticeable unless examined closely, but his head felt heavy and muddled.

Covered in dust, disheveled, and exhausted, there was no way he could attend the banquet now. Chen Wan let out a weary sigh.

Watching Xu Zhiying’s figure disappear into the distance toward the banquet, he felt a tinge of envy and regret.

Mount Fuji was too far away—he couldn’t reach it.

The Volkswagen sat on the roadside like a wounded beast in the dark night, its engine overheated and panting.

Above the red traffic light, a giant screen had just finished broadcasting an astronomy report and switched to financial news.

After the Minglong executive’s speech, Zhao Shengge’s face flashed across the screen. Even official media dared not keep the camera on him for too long.

Chen Wan couldn’t make out his expression, but he saw the ring on his hand. The shot was too quick for him to catch which finger it was on, but he knew—Zhao Shengge had never worn a ring before.

A car approached with its high beams on, shining straight into his eyes. Suddenly, his vision ached intensely.

Maybe it was because he had personally delivered his rumored love rival to the woman he liked. Or maybe the Jeep really had knocked something loose in his head.

His mind was in shambles, and for once, he wasn’t as rational as usual.

But his moment of irrationality was brief—strictly within the bounds he allowed himself.

Really, there was something to be grateful for.

Miss Xu was an outstanding woman—the kind that even someone like him, lurking in the shadows with covetous desires, could admire. She and Zhao Shengge were a good match.

Chen Wan was glad that he had made that U-turn.

His temple throbbed with pain. He sat motionless with his eyes closed, resting in the darkness of his car for twenty minutes, piecing himself back together bit by bit.

Once he had gathered enough strength, he drove to the hospital.

Baoli Bay.

When the Sharon Marty arrived at the main entrance, a swarm of reporters had already gathered, cameras flashing.

Even after the turmoil she had just experienced, Xu Zhiying remained poised and composed. She stepped out of the car gracefully, ignoring the reporters calling out, “Miss Xu,” as she walked elegantly into the banquet hall.

With her mind set on business, she exchanged brief pleasantries with acquaintances before heading straight to Zhao Shengge’s secretary, requesting to see him.

Zhao Shengge’s response: He was unavailable.

“…”

Xu Zhiying laughed in disbelief. She found his sense of contractual obligation rather lacking, so she relayed her message directly to the secretary instead.

“I suspect it was Hong Qi’s people. Tell him to have it investigated as soon as possible.”

Hong Qi was the leader of Baihe Hall and the one who had escaped during Operation Hurricane Thunder.

This time, however, Zhao Shengge let her into the VIP lounge without delay.

Xu Zhiying greeted him, “Mr. Zhao.”