Chapter 32 - 1#
Chi Gui glanced at Xie Congjin’s receding figure and asked, “What secret?”
“If it ever becomes something I can share openly, I’ll tell you right away. For now, I can’t.”
Jing Shun’s interest hadn’t faded, but he had to respect Yu Xiuzhu’s emotional privacy. He couldn’t reveal anything without the other’s confirmation.
Chi Gui confirmed he was the first in line to know this secret, so he didn’t press. “The wind’s picking up. Let’s head back to the cabin.”
“Alright.”
Jing Shun wheeled his chair forward, moving side by side with him toward the exit.
The music on the deck gradually faded. After making sure no third person was nearby, Jing Shun asked, “Is Zhang Aode too embarrassed to show his face after losing face at this afternoon’s auction?”
He hadn’t seen him at the deck dinner earlier.
Chi Gui answered his question. “Ji Er said that after he left the auction hall, he went straight to the entertainment lounge on the second floor. He’s still there, glued to the card table and can’t stop playing.”
“…”
Jing Shun was slightly taken aback. “Is he that addicted?”
Chi Gui said, “I heard that back in his younger days, Zhang Aode was extremely arrogant. He’d bet anything as a stake. Once, he lost an entire cargo terminal at the card table.”
“Back then, Old Master Zhang was in his prime. When he found out, he dragged him to the ancestral hall and punished him with the family rod, nearly costing him his life. After that, he sent word to all the major casinos in Macau, strictly forbidding Zhang Aode from ever going there again.”
It was from that point on that Zhang Aode started to restrain himself.
Jing Shun listened, stunned. “How do you know such old, dust-covered stories?”
Chi Gui said, “When I met Ji Er earlier, Qin Ye was talking about it. The Qin family is in the gambling business. Back then, Zhang Aode lost a terminal at one of Qin’s casinos.”
Jing Shun followed the thread. “So now that Old Master Zhang is gone, Zhang Aode’s true nature is showing again?”
“Probably.”
“Chi Gui, if Zhang Aode insists on interfering and fighting for that project, what are the chances of the Chi Group securing it?”
Jing Shun could vaguely tell—
Macau and Hong Kong are close, and the various forces are intertwined. It’s not easy for an outsider to put down roots.
“We’ll secure it.”
“…”
Jing Shun had expected Chi Gui to hesitate, but he didn’t expect such a blunt response. “One hundred percent?”
Chi Gui stood in front of the cabin suite door, looking down at him as he met his eyes. “One hundred percent.”
In just a few words, Jing Shun caught a glimpse of another side of Chi Gui—
The kind that outsiders refer to as the pinnacle of the pyramid.
His words and actions carried an innate sense of control, powerful yet devoid of any arrogance, as if he already held the life-or-death power over the project, just waiting for the moment to make his move.
The suite door opened.
Chi Gui gestured for him to enter first. “Don’t worry about the project. I brought you here to relax. You can get some rest tonight. The cruise has arranged a whale-watching session on the sea tomorrow morning. Interested?”
Jing Shun was surprised. “Whale-watching? Can we really see them?”
“The waters we’ll pass through tomorrow morning do have them. If we’re lucky, we’ll spot some.”
Jing Shun agreed. “Okay.”
After last night’s unexpected incident, Chi Gui didn’t leave this time. Instead, he chose to sit in the outer room and handle work.
When Jing Shun re-entered the bathroom, he discovered that it had already been covered with non-slip soft pads, and the wall on one side had been fitted with corresponding auxiliary measures.
In the world of the wealthy, everything gets done with speed and efficiency.
…
An hour later.
Jing Shun finished his nightly routine and came out. Chi Gui had already moved back to the desk in the bedroom to work.
Their eyes met in a tacit understanding. Chi Gui spoke first.
“I still have a few things to take care of. You go to sleep first?”
“Alright.”
Jing Shun skillfully moved onto the bed, rolled up in the blanket, and lay down.
The large light in the bedroom was already off, leaving only a dim bedside lamp. The curtains weren’t fully drawn, and the desk faced the dark sea outside.
In the darkness, the sound of the tide surged and rippled.
Chi Gui sat alone at the desk, flipping through project materials full of English. The cold-toned light from the screen fell on him, creating an aura of sharpness and solitude.
Jing Shun quietly stared at Chi Gui’s back, but many unrelated thoughts drifted through his mind—
What did Chi Gui used to do?
What kind of life did he live before being reclaimed by the Chi family?
In just a few years, he managed a giant conglomerate like the Chi Group, becoming an unshakable force in the eyes of countless people. That path couldn’t have been easy, could it?
A sudden surge of curiosity flooded him. It had been a long time since Jing Shun felt the impulse to truly get to know someone.
“Chi Gui…”
He called out instinctively. The person named turned around. “What’s wrong?”
“…”
Their eyes met, but Jing Shun couldn’t bring himself to ask. He shrank back into the blanket, feigning great drowsiness, and closed his eyes.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight. Sleep well.”
“…”
After a few seconds, Jing Shun slightly lifted his eyes.
Chi Gui had turned back around, facing those dry documents. Jing Shun said nothing more. The effect of the medication gradually set in, and he drifted into sleep.
…
Waking up, the morning light was beautiful.
Jing Shun got himself ready as quickly as possible, not even bothering to eat breakfast before rushing to the bow on the second deck.
The cruise had professional guides and interpreters. “Gentlemen, are you here to see the whales?”
Jing Shun was eager. “Will we be able to see them?”
The professional guide handed them binoculars. “That depends on luck. But pods have been frequenting these waters lately. The weather is good today, so the chances are high.”
Because the cruise ship was too large to get close, they occasionally needed binoculars.
“Thank you.”
Jing Shun took one and handed one to Chi Gui. “Here. Who knows if we’ll be lucky enough.”
Chi Gui didn’t want to dampen his spirits. “I’ll wait with you and see.”
Whale-watching was just an add-on project on the cruise. Not many guests got up early for it.
Jing Shun and Chi Gui were taken to the best viewing spot, waiting for miracles to emerge on the calm sea.
The guide, afraid they might get bored, struck up conversation. “Gentlemen, whales are the gods of the ocean—symbols of wisdom, strength, and freedom. There’s a local saying—”
“Whenever whales appear in groups, the first person to spot them is blessed with luck granted by the ocean. It’s said that making a wish then comes true.”
Jing Shun laughed. “Is that reliable?”
Chi Gui chimed in, “Probably a trick to entertain kids.”
The guide smiled along. “When fishermen used to go out to sea, it was a kind of hope to hold onto.”
No sooner had he spoken than Chi Gui’s sharp eyes caught something.
He didn’t rush to grab his binoculars but immediately alerted his companion. “Jing Shun, southwest direction.”
“Huh?”
Jing Shun instantly raised his binoculars, scanning for a moment, then gasped in amazement. “There they are! I see them!”
The guide noticed as well. He hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly today. Quickly, he picked up his walkie-talkie and stepped aside to notify the ship’s control room.
Remembering what the guide had said, Jing Shun put down his binoculars and earnestly clasped his hands together, closing his eyes.
Half a minute later, he opened them again.
Chi Gui, who had observed his actions, asked, “What did you wish for?”
“…”
Catching his childish behavior, Jing Shun blushed slightly. “Nothing much.”
It was just a wish for his legs to recover, to regain the freedom to control every step.
In truth, Jing Shun had long passed the age of naivety. He knew such wishes seemed childish and useless in the face of reality. Yet, in that moment, he acted like a child, entrusting that one sliver of hope to the ocean.
“Chi Gui.”
“Hmm?”
“This is my first time whale-watching.”
“…”
His psychologist had once told Jing Shun to communicate more with the outside world—to share, to connect.
Jing Shun considered himself a fairly obedient student. He was willing to open a window in his long-sealed heart.
Actually, it wasn’t the first time. He felt an unexpected urge to share things with Chi Gui.
“You might not believe it, but when I was little, I was busy studying and filming. Winter and summer breaks were packed with schedules. My parents once promised to take me to the aquarium, but it never happened due to various mishaps.”
Jing Shun seemed to have grown up in an environment full of material abundance and attention, but only after becoming an adult did he truly realize how many regrets filled his childhood.
This was just one insignificant one.
He never expected that the first time he would see whales in real life would be today, with Chi Gui by his side.
The cruise got a bit closer.
Even without binoculars, they could see a massive pod of whales in the distance. Suddenly, the lead whale leaped gracefully above the water.
“Jing Shun.”
Chi Gui called his name, as if earnestly responding to his childhood. “They heard your wish.”
Jing Shun was stunned. After a long moment, he let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah.”
…
Having been lucky enough to see the whales early in the morning, Jing Shun went back to the room for a nap.
Lunch was delivered to the cabin as usual—a bit late, but a lavish Hong Kong-style meal with exquisite presentation and attention to detail.
After Jing Shun had his fill, before he could decide what to do in the afternoon, Ji Tianheng’s assistant personally came to the door.
“Chairman Chi, Second Young Master has set up a card table in the main hall on the second floor. It starts at 3 PM. He’d be honored if you’d come down and play.”
“…”
Card games are popular in Macau. When high society gathers, it’s inevitable that they’ll sit down at a table, and putting up stakes is routine.
Chi Gui’s gaze flickered. “Tell Second Young Master I’ll be there on time.”
“Very good.”
The assistant came and left politely.
Jing Shun was spooning almond tea as a dessert, asking uncertainly, “Chi Gui, do you know how to play?”
“A little.” Chi Gui turned the question back on him. “What about you?”
Jing Shun shook his head obediently. “No, I can’t sit at the table.”
He had never been exposed to card games since childhood.