A Letter from Keanu Reeves

A new week began with the observatory issuing an emergency black rain warning signal.

At the same time, the Transport Department warned that due to the typhoon and heavy rain, landslides in the eastern district had caused road collapses, leading to the full closure of multiple routes from Central to Pedder Street. The municipal center issued a typhoon holiday notice, instructing citizens to work from home and refrain from going out unless necessary.

Weather warnings were classified into yellow, red, and black rain levels. A red rain warning typically advised residents to stay home, whereas a black rain warning mandated businesses and schools to shut down.

For the next few days, apart from governmental agencies and special departments, the entire city of Haishi was virtually shut down. The once-bustling streets were now empty, leaving only the overwhelming sound of rain engulfing the city.

With remote work in place, Chen Wan inevitably had more frequent video calls with Zhao Shengge, and their meeting locations had to shift from the office to their respective homes.

Without his suit and tie, Zhao Shengge exuded a sense of relaxation, appearing far more vivid and real than usual.

“Chen Wan, you didn’t rest again last night?” His voice was calm, devoid of any reprimand, yet it still made people feel guilty.

“I did rest.” But not much. The weather had already affected efficiency, so he had to work extra hours to compensate. Last night, he indeed stayed up until late.

“Is that so?” It was unclear whether Zhao Shengge believed him, but he didn’t press further. Leaning back in his chair, he casually asked, “What are you drinking?”

“Tieguanyin.” An essential for Chen Wan’s late nights.

Zhao Shengge nodded and flipped open a document.

In the afternoon, due to the sudden increase in wind strength, the signal in Chen Wan’s area was cut off and was only restored later that night.

Zhao Shengge seemed to have just finished showering, his hair not fully dried, making his brows and eyes appear even darker.

“Is it safe where you are?”

Chen Wan glanced at the damp tips of Zhao Shengge’s hair, hesitated for a moment, but eventually said nothing. Instead, he answered, “Very safe.”

Although the signal was still unstable, the delayed conversation gave their communication channel an almost end-of-the-world feeling—two people relying on each other amid an indefinite storm.

Without each other, Zhao Shengge and Chen Wan would both be spending this stormy, uncertain time alone.

Zhao Shengge would talk to Chen Wan from different spots in his home—morning by the bay window, evening in the study. The wooden decor immediately reminded Chen Wan of a specific perfume scent.

A citrus note. He actually went out and bought a bottle.

The marble on the bay window looked cold, so Chen Wan picked out a handmade woolen blanket—another item that would end up in his never-to-be-gifted cabinet.

As Chen Wan reported the previous day’s data, Zhao Shengge suddenly stood up and said, “I’m getting a charger.”

He went to his bedroom. The video frame briefly showed a glimpse of his bedsheets, and there seemed to be a model by the bedside. But it was just a fleeting moment—before Chen Wan could get a clearer look, the screen shifted back to Zhao Shengge’s face. Being so close to the camera, his striking features were even more intimidating when magnified.

“What?” Zhao Shengge tilted his head slightly and asked.

Chen Wan remained composed. “Nothing, Mr. Zhao. Let’s continue.”

“Alright.” Zhao Shengge placed his phone back in its usual spot and informed Chen Wan that Jennifer was currently stranded in Haishi due to the typhoon and was willing to meet him.

Jennifer was a senior marine geologist with extensive research on ocean currents and seabed movements, possessing both theoretical expertise and field experience. Fang Jian had been facing challenges with the substructure framework and had long hoped to consult her, but they never had the opportunity.

Zhao Shengge had leveraged his overseas connections to get in touch with her. As the youngest recipient of the prestigious Qing Academy Award in her field, Jennifer had an incredibly tight schedule. It was only because of the typhoon delaying her team’s transit through Haishi that she was able to spare some time to meet them.

Chen Wan asked, “When?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Zhao Shengge opened his laptop. “I just got her reply half an hour ago.”

Chen Wan glanced out the window and voiced his concern. “The rain is really heavy.”

Since the afternoon, the sky had remained dark. The observatory had issued three consecutive warnings, forecasting an extreme downpour in the next sixteen hours. A pedestrian bridge in Admiralty had collapsed, prompting the transport and police departments to once again urge citizens to avoid non-essential travel.

“She can only meet tomorrow. As soon as the typhoon clears, she’s flying straight to the UK.”

After some thought, Chen Wan said, “Mr. Zhao, can I come with you?”

Zhao Shengge was reviewing a document from Fang Jian. Without even looking up, he responded, “No.”

“…” Chen Wan sighed internally and could only say, “Please be careful.”

Zhao Shengge noticed the deep concern in his brows and, while keeping his head down, faintly smirked.

The next day, the storm raged on. The wind and rain tore through everything in their path, casting the city into an apocalyptic gloom and eerie silence.

Zhao Shengge was completely silent the entire day.

Chen Wan spent an uneasy day, barely eating, especially as the real-time weather updates kept increasing the number of casualties.

Preoccupied with work, he must have checked his phone over a hundred times.

It wasn’t until nightfall that Zhao Shengge finally messaged him: “It’s done.”

Still a video call—Zhao Shenge seemed to dislike all inefficient means of communication, such as texting.

Chen Wan was already somewhat used to it.

“Chen Wan.”

“Mr. Zhao, was everything smooth?”

Late at night, Chen Wan wasn’t in loungewear but a shirt that wasn’t overly formal either, suggesting he had been waiting all day for Zhao Shenge to contact him.

Zhao Shenge took off his coat. Under the dim light of the entryway, the man in the video looked like an oil painting. The figure in the painting asked, “What do you mean?”

Did he mean the smoothness of Zhao Shenge’s trip or his meeting with Jennifer?

“…” Chen Wan answered vaguely, “How was your day with Fang Bo?”

Chen Wan didn’t give Zhao Shenge the answer he wanted, and Zhao Shenge didn’t give him the answer he wanted either. Instead, he gently suggested, “Then you might need to ask Fang Jian. Most of the professional discussions were between him and Jennifer.”

“…” Chen Wan had a headache—Zhao Shenge was really… not easy to fool.

Zhao Shenge walked over to the well-lit kitchen island. Chen Wan could clearly see his damp shirt, clinging to his chest and abdomen, outlining well-defined muscles—restrained yet powerful, not exaggerated.

Zhao Shenge sneezed and poured himself a glass of cold water.

“…” Chen Wan couldn’t help but suggest, “Mr. Zhao, after getting wet in the rain, it’s better to drink something warm. If you have ginger, making some ginger tea would be best to ward off the cold.”

In truth, Chen Wan was just over-worrying. Zhao Shenge hadn’t actually been drenched in the rain. Chen Wan had no idea how he had ended up so wet.

The car had driven straight into the underground garage. Many garages had indeed been flooded these days, but the flood protection system in a billionaire’s estate—let alone a typhoon, even a tsunami—wouldn’t bring it down.

Zhao Shenge said he didn’t have any ginger. He rummaged around a bit, then casually asked, “Would hot mulled wine work?”

Chen Wan: “…That works too.”

Zhao Shenge took a bottle from the wine rack and poured himself half a glass.

Chen Wan asked, “Mr. Zhao, what are you drinking?”—having cold wind blow on you and drinking strong liquor right after could lead to a headache.

Zhao Shenge took a sip, his lips turning a soft, rosy red. He glanced at Chen Wan sideways. “The bottle you brought to Felipe’s banquet.”

Chen Wan froze for a second.

That statement… could be interpreted in many ways.

The bottle he brought to Felipe’s banquet.

Which bottle?

The video seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Chen Wan quickly regained his composure.

There was no way Zhao Shenge could know that the Mulan Du was his.

So it must have been the other bottle.

Chen Wan smiled. “Chardonnay helps with sleep.”

Zhao Shenge leaned against the kitchen island, one leg bent, making him appear even taller. He looked at Chen Wan and asked, “You brought Chardonnay?”

Chen Wan, suddenly on alert, didn’t answer immediately. After a moment, he replied truthfully—but carefully—”I did bring Chardonnay.”

But Zhao Shenge was not someone easily fooled. He wouldn’t let others be vague and muddle through in front of him.

“Oh?” He swirled his glass, observing the color. “You did bring Chardonnay—”

“What else?”

Each guest had to bring two bottles. The Chardonnay was the one placed on the wine rack.

“…” Chen Wan smiled. “I don’t quite remember.”

Zhao Shenge studied him for a while, then said, “I was lying to you.”

He raised his glass toward the camera. “I’m actually drinking Queen of Parma.”

“…”

Zhao Shenge had been testing him.

But Chen Wan didn’t want to talk about the banquet any further, so he simply said, “Queen of Parma works for warding off the cold too.”

Zhao Shenge wasn’t interested in discussing which wine was best for the cold or for sleep. He looked straight into Chen Wan’s eyes. “Guess who we ran into in the scientist’s living room today.”

“Who?”

Zhao Shenge walked away from the kitchen island and turned off the lights. The video suddenly went dark, and Chen Wan could no longer see his face.

In the darkness, Zhao Shenge let out a vague chuckle. “Miss Xu Enyi.”

It took Chen Wan a moment to recall the beautiful woman he had met once. Without overthinking, he analyzed objectively, “The Xu family’s ocean energy patent has been transferred. They probably want to get operations running as soon as possible. With extreme weather becoming frequent in the first half of the year, they must be anxious too.”

There were faint sounds from the phone, then a dim light turned on. Zhao Shenge had likely moved to his study. Although Chen Wan had never been to his home and didn’t know the address, after days of video meetings, he had a rough understanding of Zhao Shenge’s living environment.

Zhao Shenge studied him. “You seem quite well-informed.”

“…” Chen Wan replied, “Know your competition.” Their projects didn’t directly overlap, but there were intersecting interests.

Zhao Shenge asked, “When are they launching the project?”

“On the 13th of next month.”

“Xu Enyi told you?” Zhao Shenge set down his wine glass and reminded him, “The launch date hasn’t been officially announced yet.” If it hadn’t been announced, that meant it was still an internal secret.

“?” Chen Wan didn’t understand why he was asking. He had obtained this information through his own means. But he was afraid that Zhao Shenge would see him as someone who relied on shortcuts and underhanded tactics, so he skillfully evaded the question and tried to turn the tables. “No, Mr. Zhao, how do you know that I know Miss Xu?”

Good question.

Zhao Shenge was at ease. “Didn’t you two leave the wine tasting together?”

“…” The banquet, which Chen Wan had painstakingly avoided talking about, had come full circle.

For various reasons—guilt, regret, or something else—Chen Wan didn’t want to mention that event.

Zhao Shenge asked, “Is she your friend?”

“Not really.”

“Then is she a date?”

“…” Chen Wan nearly choked. He said, “With Miss Xu’s intelligence, beauty, and family background, I’m hardly qualified to aim that high.”

Zhao Shenge wasn’t interested in his diplomatic, formal pleasantries. He cut straight to the point. “If you don’t like someone like Xu Enyi, what kind of person do you like?”

“…” Zhao Shenge was unusually aggressive tonight, and Chen Wan didn’t quite understand why. He answered honestly, “I don’t have a particular preference.”

Zhao Shenge seemed unconvinced. He scrutinized Chen Wan for a moment, then said gently, “That’s fine, just casual conversation. If you do, I can have Tan Youming keep an eye out for you.”

Chen Wan looked at him for a moment, then shook his head, his gaze clear and steady. “I really don’t.”

Half of Zhao Shenge’s face was hidden in the interplay of light and shadow, making his expression unreadable. After a pause, he smiled at Chen Wan and said, “Alright then.”