A Chance Encounter

The night deepened, and the brothers-in-law were all tipsy, arms slung over each other's shoulders in a display of camaraderie.

Zhang Zhaohai was particularly drunk today, and particularly content.

With his brothers-in-law taking turns to toast him, he hadn't made any effort to decline, seeking only to enjoy himself to the fullest.

"Son, wait a few more years. When your old man can't drink anymore, you'll take over," Zhang Zhaohai said, slurring his words.

"Still talking nonsense? Who knows how much you've had," Song Wenqin murmured, though she wasn't actually angry. If this had been in the past, she would have been furious if he'd come home in such a state.

But today was different; she knew Zhang Zhaohai was happy, and it had been a long time since he'd been this happy.

Zhang Yang drove with a smile, saying nothing, content to let Zhang Zhaohai ramble on for the entire ride. Men always liked to brag a little when they were drunk, but Zhang Yang had to admit that his father's boasting today was enough to make him concede defeat.

The next morning was Zhang Yang's final day at home.

The family of three drove back to their hometown, where Grandpa Zhang and his wife were living a leisurely, pastoral life in the countryside.

"You shouldn't have brought so much stuff," Grandpa Zhang said. He was in robust health, still a tall, sturdy man despite being well into his seventies.

"Grandpa, the other things have a long shelf life, but you need to pay attention to the milk. I've marked the expiration dates on the boxes with a black pen, so don't forget again." Zhang Yang stood up, put the pen down, and reminded him repeatedly.

"I know, I know, it won't go bad," the old man said dismissively, turning the cigarettes in his hand over and over. "These aren't cheap, are they?"

"They're alright. Mostly, they just taste good," Zhang Yang laughed.

"Understood. I'll keep these for myself then, and won't be handing them out," Grandpa Zhang nodded, immediately grasping Zhang Yang's meaning.

Outside, Grandma Zhang had caught a few genuine free-range hens from the coop.

"These are all three years old; they'll make for a delicious soup when you get back," she said.

Zhang Yang craved these authentic free-range hens. The chickens from the vendors at the market were always thin and watery no matter how you stewed them, and the meat was incredibly stringy—nowhere near delicious.

But these old hens were different; when stewed, the fragrance would drift for miles.

Even in Magic City, it was hard to buy such genuine farm-raised chickens on short notice; you had to have the right connections.

The trunk of the Porsche had been full when they arrived, but after unloading everything for his grandparents, it was stuffed full of different things for the return trip.

Zhang Yang walked onto the ridge of the field, looking out at the endless expanse of crops and feeling the breeze coming from all directions, his body and mind feeling incredibly refreshed.

He heard the sound of the trunk closing behind him, and when he turned around, he knew it was time to head back.

"Mom, Dad, come back to the city with us. I just don't feel at ease with you two old folks out here in the countryside," Zhang Zhaohai said, clearly worried.

"The neighbors are here, and your uncles are all around. Don't you worry about us," the old man said, waving him off.

In the countryside, people could still work the fields at eighty. Grandpa Zhang felt that at his age, he was still in his prime, so what could possibly go wrong?

Knowing he couldn't sway the old man, Zhang Zhaohai had no choice but to give up.

On the way back, Zhang Yang looked in the rearview mirror. The elderly couple stood by the roadside, watching them leave. Grandpa Zhang, in particular, stood with his hands behind his back, motionless for a long time.

By three or four in the afternoon, the Porsche was fully loaded for the return journey.

That evening, the family had another proper meal to celebrate their brief reunion over the May Day holiday.

Mountains and rivers may meet again; the future holds all possibilities.

Zhang Yang hoped that the next time he returned, he would be able to bring even greater changes to his parents' lives.

The next morning, on the eve of his departure.

Zhang Yang stood by the roadside, receiving his parents' repeated instructions.

"Luck is only temporary. You can't pin all your hopes on it. I hope you won't touch those raw jade stones ever again," Zhang Zhaohai said, his tone unusually serious.

How does a gambling addiction start? You get a taste of success, then you hit a wall and want to win it back, and step by step, you sink deeper.

He was afraid that because Zhang Yang had made money so easily, he would lose it just as quickly.

"Don't worry, Dad. I won't touch them again," Zhang Yang nodded without hesitation.

Unless the system came up with something that was a guaranteed win, he had no intention of relying on luck to gamble ever again. With the system as his backing, wasn't enjoying massive cash rebates every day much better?

"That's good," Zhang Zhaohai nodded, satisfied.

Overall, his son Zhang Yang was someone he could feel at ease about.

Nearby, Song Wenqin was busy tying up the hens, preparing them for Zhang Yang to take to Magic City so the meat would be as fresh as possible.

Having watched Zhang Zhaohai host family dinners since he was a child, Zhang Yang had learned by osmosis; killing a chicken or preparing a stew was incredibly simple for him—it was second nature.

The trunk closed, and after hugging his parents, Zhang Yang set off on the journey back to Shanghai.

Around noon, Zhang Yang returned to Magic City.

In the underground garage of the serviced apartment, Zhang Yang sent a video call to Bei Wei, intending to check on her.

When the video connected, Bei Wei was wearing pajamas, sneezing every now and then.

"Brother Zhang, have you eaten?" She was eating a simple takeout meal, her voice thick with congestion.

"Did you catch a cold?" Zhang Yang asked.

"Yeah," Bei Wei nodded her little head vigorously. "My nose is blocked, it's so uncomfortable."

"You're eating takeout while you have a cold?" Zhang Yang didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"I don't have the energy to go out when I'm sick, and I don't want to cook, so I'm just making do." No sooner had she finished speaking than Bei Wei sneezed again. She hurriedly covered her nose and mouth with a tissue, terrified of letting Zhang Yang see her in such a disheveled state.

"Wait a moment." Zhang Yang hung up the video call. He didn't bother getting out of his car; instead, he drove straight toward Bei Wei's apartment building.

After parking downstairs, Zhang Yang grabbed the live hen—which was still flapping its wings—with one hand and called Bei Wei.

"Which floor?"

"Brother Zhang, why are you here?!" Bei Wei was pleasantly surprised.

"I came to check on you. By the way, your roommate... is it convenient for me to come up?" After all, it was a shared apartment for women, and Zhang Yang knew how to maintain proper boundaries.

"Wait a second, Brother Zhang." Bei Wei seemed to stand up, and a moment later, she replied, "Come on up, Brother Zhang. It's the sixteenth floor. I've already held the elevator for you."

A short while later, the elevator doors opened.

Zhang Yang stepped out and knocked on the door.

Before long, the door swung open.

A tall figure stood in the doorway, looking at Zhang Yang with an expression that wasn't exactly friendly. It was Bei Wei's roommate. She didn't block Zhang Yang's path, though it was unclear if Bei Wei had spoken to her beforehand.

"Bei Wei, he's here." She stepped back two paces, glancing at the live chicken flapping its wings in Zhang Yang's hand with a look of utter disgust.

Zhang Yang pretended not to notice and walked into the apartment Bei Wei shared with her roommate, still clutching the bird.

The apartment was elegantly furnished and looked to be about a hundred square meters—more than enough space for two women.

A door not far away opened, and Bei Wei poked her head out.

"Brother Zhang, have a seat for a bit, I'm going to change... Huh? Brother Zhang, did you bring a chicken?"

"That's right, we're having chicken soup tonight." Zhang Yang headed straight for the kitchen. "Go back to your room and rest. I'll call you when it's ready."