The day before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Zhang Yang set off for Yinghai.
That morning, the Cullinan sped down the highway like the wind. Zhang Yang drove with the window half open, his heart racing toward home.
He had already done things like returning home in glory long ago. To the man he was now, wealth and power had become commonplace. He had long passed the stage where he needed to show off or prove anything.
If he really wanted to prove something, he should have been riding in a Phantom, not keeping a low profile in a mere Cullinan.
This time, he had returned simply to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival with his family. Besides, he occasionally wanted to slow down, stop, and rest for a while.
A few hours later, he arrived in Yinghai.
The sky was high, the sea vast, and the autumn air crisp. On the streets, his Cullinan was already enough to stand head and shoulders above the rest.
"Should be my family's restaurant around here, right?" Zhang Yang muttered to himself as he looked around.
Sure enough, he seemed to have reached the location of his family's restaurant.
And it seemed that lunchtime had just passed. Even if there had been a banquet, it should have been wrapping up by now.
Zhang Yang pulled the Cullinan over and sat in the car for a while, watching his family's restaurant from afar through the window.
Outside the restaurant entrance, customers flowed in and out without pause.
His father, Zhang Zhaohai, stood outside, seemingly shaking hands and saying goodbye to several friends, chatting and laughing with ease.
It had been a long time since they had met. His father looked more and more imposing now, with a composed expression that made him look rather like a businessman who