July 30, 2128
NovaIon Energy Group (Code: LZ-XXXXX01).
For the past half year, this so-called "trash stock" had sunk so low that even retail traders couldn't be bothered to curse at it anymore.
But five minutes after the opening bell on July 30, a single breaking headline lit the fuse.
[NovaIon Energy Group announces a breakthrough in ionic energy storage structure; plans to submit a pilot-scale report this quarter.]
In less than ten seconds, the sector started to twitch.
Thirty seconds later, the first wave of algo orders punched in.
One minute in, the price was already up 18%.
The investment world jolted awake like a flock of birds startled mid-rest.
"What the hell is happening?!"
"That's a catalyst this big—when did it drop?"
"Wasn't this company practically delisting?"
"Who's lifting it?"
The only person who stayed completely calm—
was Ethan.
He was in the kitchen at Majestic Residence, frying eggs.
The soft hiss of oil covered the notification pings popping on his phone.
Summer walked out in slippers. Seeing him making breakfast again, that familiar softness and warmth in her chest swelled even more than yesterday.
She sat down, blowing on her porridge, and asked quietly:
"…You made breakfast again today?"
"These days I happen to have time," he said. "So I make it for you."
Her ears reddened slightly. "Isn't it tiring?"
Ethan set a plate of eggs in front of her.
"Not at all. I'm happy to be of service."
She didn't answer. She just lowered her head and ate—
but the smile at the corner of her eyes couldn't be hidden.
After eating, she grabbed her bag.
"Should we go downstairs together today?" she asked.
"Of course." Ethan lifted his gaze. "Let's see if Victor still dares to show up."
But today—Victor didn't.
She exhaled in relief, then felt a new kind of unease.
"He's behaving. That doesn't feel like him."
"Don't worry," Ethan said. "I'm here."
She looked at his calm profile and felt something inside her settle more deeply.
This man made her feel safe in a way she hadn't known was possible.
July 31
NovaIon kept climbing.
A stock no one had believed in for five years became the hottest phrase across every financial channel overnight.
Self-media accounts started stoking the fire:
[A New Era of Energy Storage?]
[This Company Could Be Tomorrow's Giant]
[Is the "National Team" Entering?]
The market was guessing wildly.
Back in Majestic Residence, breakfast was still on the table right on time.
Summer had almost gotten used to it already. But today, mid-spoonful, she said:
"These past two days… feel strange."
"Strange?" Ethan asked.
"Yeah."
"Before, every day was just rush, rush, rush—wake up and it's clients, partners, meetings."
"But now it's different."
"Different how?"
She spoke softly, like she didn't want to scare the thought away.
"Maybe… because someone is waiting for me now."
Ethan's chopsticks paused mid-air.
"Summer."
"Mm?"
"If you want," he said, voice steady,
"then from now on, every morning you wake up… someone will be waiting."
Summer's ears flared hot.
"…Eat your eggs."
They went downstairs together. The driver was already waiting.
Victor still didn't appear.
Summer didn't believe he had suddenly become obedient. She suspected the opposite.
He was holding something back.
"Be careful when you come home tonight," she reminded Ethan.
"You'll be fine," Ethan said with a small smile.
Her heartbeat skipped once.
She was finding it harder and harder to understand him.
August 1
NovaIon gapped up on the third day.
Three minutes into open, the cumulative gain compared to three days ago hit 117%.
The finance channels erupted.
"Is this stock insane?!"
"This is a monster—an absolute monster!"
At the same time, Zoe sat at the trading station, so tense she could barely breathe.
She stared at the K-line—bright enough to hurt the eyes—her fingers almost cramping from gripping the edge of the desk.
Then the first violent intraday shake hit—
and the instruction she had been waiting for finally arrived.
[Ethan: RUN.]
Zoe slammed the button and shouted so loudly her own voice startled her:
"SELL! SELL EVERYTHING!! FULL EXIT!!"
The system screamed with rapid alerts as massive positions dumped.
Five minutes later, the dust settled.
Zoe stared at the number on the screen—
and her entire body went rigid.
189.0 billion.
Because they executed perfectly into the spike inside the volatility band, they had squeezed out tens of billions more than the baseline projection.
She sank into her chair like her bones had been pulled out.
Half a minute later, she sprang up so hard she nearly knocked the desk over.
"Oh my GOD—!!!"
Her assistant nearly had a heart attack.
"Ms. Zhou?! What happened?!"
"…Nothing," Zoe snapped, then realized how insane she sounded and forced herself flat.
"You can go."
The assistant left, legs almost giving out.
Zoe fumbled open the encrypted channel to Ethan.
"Boss!!"
"I can hear you," Ethan replied, voice light, as if he'd just woken from a nap.
"We made… one—one hundred and eighty-nine billion!!"
"Normal."
"…Normal?!!"
Ethan didn't explain. He simply said, calm and cutting:
"Following the right person matters more than learning how to trade."
Zoe almost collapsed.
But what made her want to cry wasn't even that—
It was what she confessed next, stammering like a student caught cheating.
"Boss… actually… I also used that other ten billion…"
"…I followed the same ratio and leverage."
"…And now it's… nine hundred-something billion."
Ethan chuckled softly.
"You're smart."
"You made the right choice. I didn't misjudge you."
He paused, then said as if it were nothing:
"Congratulations. Ten percent. You just earned about ninety-plus billion."
Zoe went completely still.
"…Boss… what… what did you say?"
"That ninety billion… is mine?"
"But this wasn't my strategy decision—!"
Ethan answered evenly:
"I gave you full authority. I told you you didn't need to report. Ten percent of profit is yours. That's the deal."
Zoe started crying for real.
Not because she was hurt.
Because the magnitude of fate flipping in front of her was too much.
"Boss… you're literally a god…"
"God is exhausting," Ethan replied dryly. "I'd rather just be your boss."
Zoe made a sound between a laugh and a sob.
For her, this wasn't just money.
This was her proof.
She could go to her grandfather and say:
Who says women can't win?
I beat every "golden grandson" you bet on.
Because even the Vance family, for generations, had only ever reached "a hundred-billion-class" at most.
She steadied herself, forced her voice back into business.
"Boss… one more thing."
"Say it."
"Fuli Hotel uploaded the contract. From this moment—Fuli Hotel is officially under your umbrella."
Ethan looked out at the blue sky through his window.
"Good."
He sounded like everything was exactly where it should be.
"Have Chen pick me up tomorrow at 7:30 at Majestic Residence front gate."
"Tell Blaze and Mason—8:00 at Fuli. Meeting."
"You're coming too."
"Yes, boss."
Throughout these three days, Ethan had kept a steady WhatsApp thread with Quinn (Q.N.).
After making breakfast for Summer each morning, whenever he had a sliver of time, he'd send short notes—always about design, always about her model:
Ethan: About the "city breathing system" you wrote—last night I thought of a backup energy corridor.
Quinn: Wait… you actually studied my draft? You weren't just saying nice things?
Ethan: I never speak casually.
Quinn: Thank you. This is the first time I've felt… like my design might actually be seen.
Ethan: It won't just be seen. It will be built.
Quinn: You're joking. A future city isn't running a restaurant.
Ethan: I never joke.
Quinn: Ethan… what kind of city are you trying to build?
Ethan: One that survives.
Quinn: …? Then what do you need me to do?
Ethan: Wait for my signal. The first brick of that city—you'll draw it with your own hands.
Quinn wanted to believe.
But she couldn't fully.
She still didn't understand that she was standing at the edge of something so vast it could reshape an era.
And at the center of that blueprint sat a man holding a pen—quietly rewriting the future.
Ethan didn't go out that afternoon.
He stayed home, mapping the next moves.
Auntie Liu came to cook dinner. He chatted with her briefly. She saw him sketching and calculating but didn't interrupt. She cleaned up and left.
Summer came home for dinner as usual.
Afterward she changed into loungewear, curled into the corner of the sofa, watching the city lights outside.
When she turned her head, she saw Ethan standing at the glass wall, his back calm—
like someone watching the route of the world itself.
"Ethan…"
"Mm?"
"Victor… hasn't come these three days."
"He won't come," Ethan said.
"Why?"
"Because right now he's figuring out how to use the Vance family to make us pay."
Summer's heart tightened.
"Isn't that more dangerous?"
Ethan turned, voice as calm as weather.
"The Vance family… is nothing."
Summer froze.
He walked over and stopped in front of her.
"Summer. Trust me."
"I… I already am." Her voice lowered. "I'm just scared… what if…"
"I won't let you see a 'what if.'"
She looked up and met those eyes—steady enough to hold the world.
And in that moment, she realized something:
She had never truly trusted anyone.
Now she was starting to lean on him.
She nodded, small.
"Okay."
Ethan rubbed her hair gently.
"Go sleep."
"And you?"
"I'll look over today's data a bit more."
She took two steps, then turned back.
"…Ethan."
"Mm?"
"…Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me."
He looked at her.
"Because you're the person I intend to protect for life."
Summer pressed a hand to her chest and fled into her room like she was escaping her own heartbeat.
Before the door closed, she heard Ethan speak softly, almost to himself:
"The Vance family can't raise a real storm."
"And even if a storm comes… I'll block every bit of wind and snow for you."
"Tomorrow we go out for breakfast together. Leave at 7:30."
"Tell the driver he doesn't need to pick you up."
"O—okay," Summer replied instinctively, still flustered, and didn't say anything more.
Lights went out.
The city sank into quiet.
Far away, in some office tower, NovaIon Energy Group's news ticker kept looping.
In the warehouses, cold-storage construction machines still hummed.
At the emergency supply window, five boxes of Stabilenin-A were missing from the shelf.
Fuli Hotel's old sign creaked slightly in the wind—like it was waiting for its new owner.
And at the top floor of Majestic Residence—
two hearts were quietly drawing closer.
August 2, 2128 · 07:30
Majestic Residence · Building A · 2801
Ethan was already dressed, standing at the island counter, reviewing a simplified schedule.
Dark shirt, casual trousers—nothing formal, yet nothing out of place.
The bedroom door clicked open.
Summer stepped out.
Makeup done. A thin sharp eyeliner shaped her face into something clean and cold-beautiful. A light beige blazer with matching cropped pants. Slim high heels.
She looked like a cover model of "executive woman"—but there was a softness only someone close could see.
She adjusted her cuff and glanced across the living room.
"Ready?"
"Waiting for you," Ethan said, shutting down the terminal.
His eyes paused on her for a beat.
"You look good."
Summer froze slightly.
"…Thanks." Her fingers touched her ear unconsciously.
As they moved toward the entryway, she asked while changing shoes:
"Why aren't we eating breakfast at home today?"
Ethan answered steadily:
"I'm taking you to inspect your territory."
"My territory?" Summer looked up.
"The hotel we acquired yesterday."
The air stiffened for half a second.
"Signed yesterday afternoon," Ethan said, closing the door. "Today the boss lady goes to see it."
Summer's steps paused.
Only then did she fully register something:
Her legal husband… was far more than she'd assumed.
"Okay," she said, forcing the shaking inside her back down. She nodded.
They walked into the elevator side by side. As the doors closed, their shadows sat next to each other on the mirror-like wall.
At the front gate of Majestic Residence, a low-key dark-grey executive vehicle waited. The paint reflected a soft sheen in the morning light.
The driver's window was half lowered.
A woman leaned back with one hand on the wheel, the other holding a coffee cup still steaming.
Zoe.
She saw them and called out instinctively:
"Boss—"
Then her gaze went past Ethan and landed on the person beside him.
Her pupils tightened like someone pinched them.
"…Summer?!"
Summer froze too.
"Zoe?! What are you doing here?"
Two names spoken. The air snapped alive.
"You—how are you here?"
"I was about to ask YOU that!"
They stared at each other, then both broke into a flash of genuine surprise and excitement.
Ethan watched, confused.
"So… you two know each other?"
"Of course," they answered in perfect sync.
Zoe's eyes bounced between Ethan and Summer.
"Boss, you and—"
"My legal wife," Ethan said with a small smile.
Summer looked at Zoe and blurted, half embarrassed:
"Zoe, you got married and didn't tell me?!"
Zoe's tone carried a sliver of complaint—yet something like envy flickered underneath.
Summer whispered, flustered:
"It's because of your cousin… I'll explain later."
Zoe stepped forward and hugged Summer—firm, adult, real.
No squeals. No fake-cute. Just genuine closeness.
"It's been too long," Zoe said softly.
Then she waved toward the sliding doors already open.
"Get in first."
Summer hesitated.
"Why are you picking us up? You, of all people?"
"I live nearby," Zoe replied, chin lifting slightly. "Chen is farther."
"Not stealing his job. Geography. I'm genuinely more convenient."
Ethan lifted a brow.
"Acting on your own?"
Zoe met it head-on.
"I really am more convenient, boss. Consider it… my chance to perform."
Ethan didn't make it a thing. He helped Summer in first, then got in himself.
The door shut. Noise vanished.
Zoe entered the address into the AI system and glanced at the rear-view panoramic display.
Man and woman sitting in cabin seats—strangely fitting.
Still—
The car had barely left the driveway when Summer asked:
"When did you come back? Weren't you on Wall Street?"
Zoe paused, then sighed.
"A year ago."
"A year?! You didn't tell me?"
"I didn't want the Vance family to know I was back," Zoe said, eyes on the road. Her fingers tapped the wheel lightly. "You know my grandfather."
"And I didn't contact you because… I couldn't help you escape that marriage arrangement. I felt guilty."
Summer went quiet. She knew exactly what she meant.
"So now you're…" Summer asked carefully.
"Working for Ethan."
Summer's jaw dropped.
"Harvard dual master's… working for him?!"
Ethan said calmly, "I'm very satisfied."
Summer couldn't hold it. "Zoe, why are you working for him?"
Zoe's silence held a thought she didn't say:
Because after meeting him, she realized no matter how hard she worked—she would never catch up to the angle he saw the world from.
But she didn't voice that.
Instead she asked Summer:
"You remember that internet story recently?"
"What story?"
"The one about the mysterious 'market god' who made a hundred billion in three days."
Summer's hand tightened.
"…No way."
Zoe glanced at Ethan and let a small smile curve.
"It was him."
Summer's world shook.
When that news flooded financial channels, she'd been stunned—but it had felt like an urban legend.
She'd never imagined the legend sat beside her—making her porridge in the morning and calling her "wife."
"That was a hundred billion," Zoe said softly. "This time it's 189 billion."
The car went silent. Only heartbeats.
"You mean… that ion-energy stock?" Summer's voice tightened.
Zoe nodded.
"Four nights ago he told me to go all-in. Two billion cash base. Full leverage. Three days later: exit on command."
"Yesterday morning we closed out. Settlement: 189 billion."
She laughed once, still half in shock.
Summer blinked hard.
"And… you?" she asked.
Zoe answered with steady gratitude:
"Ethan also gave me a 10 billion strategy pool. Full discretion, 10% of profits."
"I followed the same leverage ratio and structure. That 10 billion is now 94.5 billion."
"So my personal income is 9.45 billion."
She swallowed.
"It was entirely Ethan's strategy… and he still said it's what I deserve."
Summer couldn't speak.
Zoe glanced at her and smiled.
"Working for him is luck."
Not boss-and-subordinate respect.
The kind of respect that comes from knowing you backed the right person.
After a long silence, Ethan finally spoke.
"Zoe."
"Yes?" She responded instantly.
"That 'troublemaker' you mentioned before—your uncle's branch—Victor?"
Zoe gave a bitter smile.
"Unfortunately. He's my cousin."
"Always liked causing trouble. Now he's the textbook spoiled heir."
The car went quiet again.
Ethan said calmly:
"I chased him off. He's probably going back now to figure out how to pull the Vance family in to come after us—or after me and Summer."
Zoe's voice went cold.
"Self-inflicted."
Ethan continued, just as calm:
"If Victor stops, this ends."
"But if he insists on making trouble…"
"I'm considering wiping out the Vance family's business and taking the whole thing."
The sentence landed lightly.
But it pressed like a boulder in the air.
Summer couldn't help blurting:
"You're going to… take the Vance family?"
Ethan didn't answer her first. He asked Zoe:
"If I let you control all the Vance family's business after it's ours—do you want it?"
Zoe didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
It was fast, like she'd been carrying that sentence for years.
"I'll take care of my grandfather. I'll support the relatives who still have a conscience."
"But the current system—if it goes to Victor and that stubborn group of useless heirs, everything gets destroyed."
"So… boss, if you take the Vance family, personally I have zero objection."
Ethan nodded.
"Good. Then answer this: what's their scale?"
"On paper?" Zoe replied instantly. "Public companies, market cap, property, assets, investments—roughly 150 to 200 billion."
"Off book?"
"Maybe double. But most of it is inefficient assets or grey resources. We can ignore it."
"If we want to swallow them cleanly," Ethan asked, "how much capital do we need?"
Zoe ran the math.
"300 billion is enough."
She paused, then added like a blade:
"Give me 500 billion. I'll use your knowledge to drive them into bankruptcy and buy them back."
"If 500 isn't enough, I'll ask for another 500."
Silence.
Summer stared at Ethan, seeing a stranger inside her husband.
Zoe said, serious:
"Boss, 500 is more than enough. Give me half a month and I can hand you the Vance family."
Ethan replied:
"Fine. Once it's done, all Vance assets go under your management."
"And I'll give you 20% equity."
"You don't get to refuse."
Zoe's eyes almost turned red again.
She swallowed emotion and answered with precision:
"Boss… in this life, I recognize only one boss."
Summer listened.
At this level of conversation, she couldn't interrupt. She could only feel her worldview collapse and rebuild, layer by layer.
Ethan turned to her.
"Summer."
"Mm…" She straightened instinctively.
"You're my legal wife. I never intended to hide anything from you."
"Before, I wasn't sure you truly had me in your heart. You didn't ask, so I didn't force it."
"But lately, I can feel we're getting closer."
"So I'm bringing you into my world now."
"Forgive me for being late."
"In the next few days, I'll tell you more."
Summer nodded. Her heart was complex and loud.
"Okay."
"Zoe," Ethan continued, "after your cut, we still have about 270 billion left liquid."
"100 billion stays in the stock pool."
"100 billion goes into the account you control."
"500 billion earmarked for the Vance acquisition."
"The remaining 2,000 billion—I'll deploy across the full layout later."
"Yes, boss."
Summer couldn't speak.
She had thought she'd "seen things." She'd signed ten-billion projects.
Today she understood:
Some people moved trillions like chips.
This wasn't "rich."
This was "the world starts tilting slightly around him."
And this person was her husband.
Zoe looked at Summer and softened her voice.
"You'll get used to it."
"When I first learned, I was even more stunned than you."
Then she smiled, with a faint thread of bittersweet:
"But you'll realize quickly—he never acts randomly."
"I'm genuinely happy for you."