You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

A deep, aged voice echoed through the spacious second-floor corridor.

A sandalwood cane rests on the edge of a Persian carpet.

It emitted a slight muffled sound.

He didn't turn back to pay attention to the two younger men hiding around the corner.

Carrying the black walnut tray, he walked slowly but with exceptionally steady steps.

The soup in the white porcelain bowl didn't even ripple.

The savory aroma of scallion oil mingled with the greasy smell of fried eggs, wafting in the cool night breeze.

He left the two children with a tall, strong, yet infinitely warm silhouette.

In the shadows at the corner of the corridor.

Chen Xinghe's fingers were still covering his mouth.

But the hint of mockery and smirk that had been in his eyes had completely faded away.

Instead.

It is a deep-seated respect and an unyielding admiration.

He is only twelve years old, but he is the future fourth-generation successor of Xingchen Venture Capital and the Shen family conglomerate.

He had long been drawn into those silent battlefields of business.

He was used to seeing his uncles, who were worth hundreds of billions, banging on the huge conference table and getting red-necked.

They're fighting tooth and nail for a few percentage points of profit.

I've also become accustomed to those so-called wealthy and powerful families.

A dispute over the distribution of an inheritance led to a falling out between father and son, and even turned brothers into enemies.

They leaked each other's dirt to the media, causing a huge uproar.

In this circle filled with capitalist calculations and power struggles.

Emotions are the cheapest bargaining chip.

Marriage is merely a stepping stone for resource integration.

But at Genting Manor.

Inside this super fortress that controls the global financial lifeline and where even the head of a nation must bow down and pay homage.

All external laws of the jungle were kept outside that black and gold gate.

Chen Xinghe straightened his thin back.

He turned his head and glanced at his younger sister, Chen Xingyue, who had also put away her smile.

Both children saw the same shock in each other's eyes.

Grandpa's words just now.

It was not a simple joke.

That was the foundation he personally etched for this family over half a century.

This "golden rice bowl" (referring to a woman who lives off her husband).

They eat with more confidence than those billionaires who ring the bell on Nasdaq.

This is a trump card that others could only dream of for lifetimes.

"elder brother."

Chen Xingyue tugged at Chen Xinghe's pajama sleeve.

The voice was kept very low.

"When I grow up, I want to find someone like my grandfather."

"A man who, even at eighty, would lean on his cane and cook noodles for me in the middle of the night."

Chen Xinghe ruffled his sister's hair and nodded vigorously.

The camera slowly zooms in.

Passing through the huge French-style panoramic floor-to-ceiling window of Genting Manor.

Beyond the evergreen leaves swaying in the wind halfway up the mountain.

Overlooking this vast city sleeping under the cover of night.

On both sides of the Huangpu River, towering steel forests pierce the sky.

The cruise ships on the river shimmered with dazzling neon lights.

The top of half of the city's skyscrapers.

They all bear the iconic dark gold logos of Star Venture Capital and the Shen family conglomerate.

That is the beacon of capital that will never be extinguished in the darkness.

Hundreds of thousands of heavy containers are handled daily at their deep-water ports.

Countless submarine fiber optic cables spanning the ocean carry financial data that affects the life and death of several continents.

The outside world is cruel and cold.

These are two business empires large enough to influence the global landscape.

Now it is their children, and even their grandchildren, who are taking over.

Fighting, expanding, and defending in the external business world.

With the most ruthless and cold-blooded iron fist, we deterred those hungry wolves who dared to extend their claws.

But inside the manor.

This is what maintains the core cohesion of this large family and makes all descendants willingly unite as one.

It has never been some cold family precept written on parchment.

It's not those piles of wealth trust contracts either.

Instead, it's been the same late night for decades.

The warm yellow light in the kitchen on the first floor of this manor turns on right on time.

It's finely chopped scallions on the cutting board.

It's a milky white broth bubbling and churning in a clay pot.

It was the image of the man who once single-handedly subjugated the dark web, now busy in front of the fire, wearing an old apron.

This.

This is the most precious and unshakable spiritual foundation that Chen Yuan and Shen Wanzhou left to this family.

The descendants of the Chen family suffered setbacks and were schemed against outside, leaving them resentful.

As long as we return to the manor.

Looking at the meteorite iron kitchen knife sealed in a bulletproof glass cabinet in the kitchen.

Looking at the black cotton apron hanging on the wall.

The restlessness and anger in your heart will be instantly smoothed out.

As long as the pot is still hot, as long as someone is still cooking this bowl of noodles.

This family will never fall apart.

Chen Yuan carried a black walnut wood tray.

His steps were slow, yet remarkably steady.

Each step he took on the carpet carried a unique rhythm that belonged to him.

A large, well-defined hand steadily supported the edge of the bowl.

Not a single drop of scalding hot soup was spilled on the tray.

At the end of the corridor.

The carved mahogany door to the master bedroom was ajar.

A warm orange light shone through the crack in the door.

Chen Yuan stopped in front of the door.

Free up the hand that was holding the cane.

My fingertips gently rested on the cool brass doorknob.

"Click".

The faint sound of the door hinges turning was exceptionally clear in the quiet corridor.

The door was pushed open inwards.

A faint, calming chamomile aroma wafts over.

In the center of the large bed.

The bulge wrapped in the thick silk quilt immediately stirred.

Shen Wanzhou hugged the blanket and slowly sat up.

Her long, silvery-white hair slid down her slender shoulders.

Although the corners of his eyes and the corners of his eyebrows are etched with the lines of time.

But in those shimmering, peach-blossom eyes, there still remained a kind of innocent charm that only appeared in front of Chen Yuan.

With a smug, triumphant feeling.

She watched her husband walk in carrying a tray.

His nostrils twitched slightly twice.

"It smells so good."

She sniffed, her voice filled with undisguised joy.

Chen Yuan walked to the bedside and leaned his cane against the corner of the wall.

Bend down.

I placed the tray full of hot noodles steadily on the bedside table.

He didn't rush to serve her the noodles.

Instead, she turned around and pulled out two soft cushions from the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.

He gently tucked it into her lower back.

I made sure she was comfortable leaning against me and that there was no looseness in the air.

Then he turned back and picked up the bowl of noodles.

The steam rising from the bowl enveloped his gray hair.

It also blurred the deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

Chen Yuan picked up the small pure silver soup spoon and a pair of mahogany chopsticks.

Pick up a thin noodle with chopped scallions.

With a slight twist of his wrist.

Roll the noodles around chopsticks and suspend them in mid-air.

He lowered his head, his lips slightly parted.

Gently blow away the rising white steam.

Until the temperature drops to a level that is just palatable.

He then steadily placed the chopsticks and noodles to Shen Wanzhou's lips.

Shen Wanzhou obediently opened her mouth.

I took a bite of the noodles and chewed slowly.

The savory aroma of scallion oil blends perfectly with the rich flavor of poached eggs, melting on the tip of your tongue.

This tastes just like the first bite I had in that cramped kitchen fifty years ago.

There is no difference.

Nothing has changed.

Chen Yuan sat on the edge of the bed.

His deep eyes watched her eat noodles intently.

The rough pad of his thumb reached out.

Gently wipe away the bit of dark brown soup that had gotten on the corner of her lips.

He didn't speak.

All the companionship and affection melted into this silent gaze.

The steaming bowl of egg noodles was placed at Shen Wanzhou's bedside. The old lady ate it with a smile on her face, as if she had returned to the girlhood decades ago when she was protected by her father.