A Letter from Keanu Reeves

“Are you nervous?”

“What?”

“Your pulse is racing.”

“…”

Zhao Shengge was testing Chen Wan. Such a brief touch couldn’t possibly detect any anomalies.

Chen Wan smiled and calmly joked, “Not nervous, but having a client serve me like this—I do feel a little flattered.”

Zhao Shengge’s tone was casual, his demeanor open and generous. “These are just small matters. But you winning the bid has saved both Minglong and me a lot of trouble.”

“If you don’t trust someone, don’t use them. If you use someone, trust them.”

“Since Minglong chose Kexiang as a partner, it represents trust and recognition. Kexiang didn’t bid the highest price, but my sincerity cannot be lacking. Consider this, along with the gratitude I owe you from last time—just think of it as…”

“A bribe?”

Chen Wan nodded, taking no offense.

He had heard of how Zhao Shengge handled partnerships.

Minglong’s success today was not just due to its leader’s decisiveness and ruthlessness but also his natural presence as a young entrepreneur—someone with both grandeur and magnanimity.

This was something widely acknowledged in the industry.

Zhao Shengge was merciless to his opponents, like an autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves. But to his own people, he was fiercely protective, always treating them generously.

Because of this, both his subordinates and past collaborators were deeply loyal and devoted to him.

After what felt like an eternity, Zhao Shengge finished fastening the cufflinks. He took a polite step back and said, “Take a look. Do you like them? If not, we can keep looking.”

Chen Wan’s eyes curved in a smile. “I like them.”

He stretched out his arms to show them off, a bit like a child trying on new clothes during the holidays.

Zhao Shengge watched silently.

The ruby-red cufflinks suited Chen Wan well, complementing the small reddish-brown mole on his finger.

Zhao Shengge could almost picture it—the day the contract was signed, these very hands, adorned with these cufflinks, signing Chen Wan’s name before reaching out to shake his hand, sealing their agreement.

He instructed the sales associate to pack up the cufflinks.

While Chen Wan took a work call, Zhao Shengge thought for a moment and then quietly asked the sales associate to have a craftsman engrave a small design on the back of the cufflinks.

It was a simple design, nothing elaborate, so it didn’t take long.

Chen Wan never found out.

All he knew was that Zhao Shengge actually enjoyed shopping—a fact that didn’t quite align with the image he had of him.

Even after purchasing the cufflinks, Zhao Shengge showed no intention of leaving.

It seemed like he rarely went out, so he took his time, browsing seriously. Occasionally, he would say a few words to Chen Wan.

Chen Wan patiently accompanied him, all the while remaining alert to their surroundings.

Later, Zhao Shengge took a liking to a tie clip and bought it as well, gifting it to Chen Wan.

It wasn’t extraordinarily expensive, but it suited Chen Wan perfectly.

When the sales associate handed over the elegantly wrapped gift bag, Zhao Shengge reached for it first.

“I’ll take it.”

Chen Wan felt a bit guilty about making his client carry the bag.

“It’s fine,” Zhao Shengge said, giving the bag a slight shake. “We’re going to keep shopping for a while.”

Chen Wan didn’t realize that “a while” meant staying until the mall closed.

A flood of tourists and personal shoppers came down the escalators as the stores began shutting their doors.

The crowd thickened.

Chen Wan instinctively positioned himself on the outer side, shielding Zhao Shengge.

Zhao Shengge noticed. “What are you doing?”

“Walk on the inside,” Chen Wan said, blocking the throng. “Don’t let them bump into you.”

Zhao Shengge observed him for a moment and then said, “Come here. Don’t let them bump into you either.”

But there were just too many people.

No matter how careful they were, they couldn’t avoid being jostled.

Chen Wan frowned, using his arm to keep people from pushing too close to Zhao Shengge. He probably wasn’t aware that his expression, devoid of warmth, made him look slightly intimidating.

After watching for a while, Zhao Shengge said in a gentle tone, “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

They finally squeezed out of the building, stepping into open space.

Chen Wan needed to return to the office to get his car, so Zhao Shengge drove him to Prince’s West Section.

Even at 11 p.m., the business district was still brightly lit.

When Zhao Shengge pulled over, Chen Wan, lingering slightly, discreetly ran his hand over the leather of the driver’s seat.

There wouldn’t be a next time.

As he unbuckled his seatbelt, he said, “Thank you, Mr. Zhao, I’ll just—”

He paused.

Lowering his head, he pressed the buckle again.

The seatbelt wouldn’t budge.

Zhao Shengge turned his head to look at him.

A little embarrassed, Chen Wan silently sighed.

This was exactly like those cliché drama scenes.

He swore he wasn’t doing this on purpose, but the seatbelt simply wouldn’t release.

Zhao Shengge studied him for a few seconds.

Instead of leaning in right away, he gave him space and politely asked, “Need help?”

But Chen Wan had already steadied himself, declining with composure. “No need. I’ll try again.”

He didn’t want to be too close to Zhao Shengge—especially not in this confined, dimly lit space.

In such an environment, it was difficult to control both his rationality and his actions.

Chen Wan didn’t want to startle Zhao Shengge.

Even more so, he didn’t want to lose control in front of him.

Here’s the full translation of your text:

Zhao Shengge raised an eyebrow and waited for a moment, but Chen Wan still couldn’t get the seatbelt undone.

Suddenly, Zhao Shengge pressed a switch on the central control panel.

“Click.”

The seatbelt released.

“…”

Chen Wan was astonished.

This was the first time he realized that privately customized cars could have encrypted seatbelt locks controlled from the central system.

Perhaps when something reached a certain level of luxury, nothing was impossible.

Zhao Shengge, however, remained candid, resting one hand casually on the steering wheel. “It’s a synchronized lock. I forgot.”

“Oh.”

Chen Wan nodded, not doubting him.

He got out of the car, bent down slightly, and thanked him through the window before saying goodbye.

Zhao Shengge, still resting one hand on the wheel, leaned slightly to the side. In the dim night, he looked strikingly handsome. His face was unreadable, but his gaze was unwavering.

“Chen Wan, goodbye.”

For a moment, the night didn’t feel like a business transaction—it felt like a frame from a dream.

But now, it was time to wake up.

Chen Wan smiled softly, cherishing the moment. “Mr. Zhao, goodbye.”

Zhao Shengge frowned slightly.

He didn’t like that smile.

It felt as though Chen Wan was trying to etch this moment into his memory, like someone bidding farewell under the cover of night.

So he called out decisively, “Chen Wan.”

Chen Wan stopped.

He reminded him, “The contract signing is next week.”

They would be seeing each other again soon.

“Alright,” Chen Wan said, his eyes reflecting the glow of the streetlights. He smiled. “Mr. Zhao, see you then.”

On the day of the contract signing, Chen Wan didn’t wear the ruby cufflinks or the tie clip.

Later, Zhao Shengge realized that, no matter the occasion, Chen Wan never wore them.

The contract was signed by all four parties.

The Shen and Tan families were only providing capital investment and wouldn’t be involved in operations.

So, in attendance were Zhao Shengge, Xu Zhiying, Chen Wan, and an engineer, Fang Jian—Zhao Shengge’s former classmate from Cambridge, a postdoctoral researcher, and the chief engineer for this project, leading an entire lab team.

The four of them sat in the conference room, one on each side of the table. The atmosphere was formal and serious.

Each person took turns signing and exchanging contracts.

Once the process was complete, Xu Zhiying warmly extended a hand to Chen Wan.

“Mr. Chen, I’m truly happy that you’re our partner. Sincerely.”

Although the project was being divided between the Xu family and Minglong, the Xu family had very little equity, meaning that decision-making power was essentially in Zhao Shengge’s hands.

She hadn’t expected him to choose Chen Wan.

It was a pleasant surprise.

Chen Wan smiled and shook her hand.

Zhao Shengge closed the folder and announced, “The meeting is over.”

Chen Wan released Xu Zhiying’s hand and then reached out to shake Fang Jian’s.

Among the four, Zhao Shengge and Xu Zhiying were the clients—the big boss and the smaller boss.

Fang Jian was more of a third party.

Only Chen Wan was on the receiving end, the “B-side” in this collaboration.

It was important to maintain upward social relations, but peer connections couldn’t be neglected either.

Fang Jian, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic as Xu Zhiying.

He had a rather arrogant personality and a streak of white hair that made him look particularly serious.

A man of rigid principles, he was the youngest recipient of a prestigious international award and a leading figure in marine engineering.

In Haishi, he was one of the few people who dared to challenge Zhao Shengge directly.

He didn’t care about background, net worth, or project size—he simply refused to compromise his scientific principles.

Though rigid and stubborn, Fang Jian was deeply passionate about research.

Because of the project’s high-level confidentiality, he created an encrypted group chat and added the other three members.

Every day, he flooded the chat with engineering concepts, complex theoretical analyses, foreign research papers, and structural diagrams—long and elaborate messages, posted with clockwork precision.

What followed was usually a vast, awkward silence.

The two high-powered clients, swamped with work, largely ignored him.

Xu Zhiying, being more socially adept, initially made an effort to respond here and there.

But as the content became increasingly esoteric, it soon felt like deciphering an ancient manuscript.

Eventually, even if she wanted to humor him, she simply couldn’t find anything to say.

That left only Chen Wan, who still tried to engage.

He didn’t want to leave the esteemed expert talking to himself in the group chat.

So even if he didn’t fully understand, he would at least try to grasp the basics before responding.

Besides, his area of responsibility overlapped with Fang Jian’s in certain aspects.

As the project progressed, their interactions only increased.