After days of hard work, Ye Chen rested in Jinling for a few days before setting off again for Guangcheng in the south.
It was nearing the Lunar New Year, and the weather was growing colder, Guangcheng’s milder temperatures were more accommodating for performances.
According to the plan, the final stop was Rongcheng, after the last performance there, Ye Chen would immediately return to Jinling, and the next day, fly with his family to the Maldives.
Travelling with Tawana for days had left Ye Chen mentally fatigued, he was eagerly looking forward to the New Year to rest, not so much physically tired, but in need of mental relaxation and decompression.
While Ye Chen was overseeing Tawana’s performance in Guangcheng, a cargo ship docked at Pudong Port in Hucheng.
This was a Chinese-registered vessel, just returned to its anchorage, all crew members disembarked for rest, and once the ship was loaded with the next batch of cargo, it would set sail for Europe.
Among the crew was a middle-aged cook, affectionately called Chef Ma by the others, but his true identity was Tang Sihai, the long-time steward of the Ye family.
The entire crew were subordinates of Ye Chen’s mother, An Chengqi, who controlled a Chinese shipping company, though not as large as Yisu Shipping, it had dozens of container ships, providing ample cash profits for An Chengqi while facilitating global logistics and personnel deployment.
After leaving the ship, Tang Sihai was escorted through secret channels to Jinling.
Hucheng to Jinling was not far, just three or four hours.
An Chengqi arranged for Tang Sihai to stay at Qixia Temple, as Jinling was full of Ye Chen’s people and businesses, she dared not let Tang Sihai show his face.
Tang Sihai rode in a completely opaque van from Hucheng to Qixia Temple, arriving late at night.
Qixia Temple closed its gates at night, not receiving pilgrims or laypeople, but a side entrance to the mountain was opened, closing again after Tang Sihai’s van entered.
The van drove straight to a secluded courtyard halfway up the mountain, the same one An Chengqi had once stayed in, several monks quietly prepared the courtyard and guest rooms, retreating with bowed heads once the van entered.
Two men in black stepped out from the driver and passenger seats, checked the surroundings, locked the gate, then opened the rear sliding door, saying respectfully to Tang Sihai inside, “Steward Tang, we’ve arrived, you may disembark.”
Tang Sihai nodded lightly, stepping out, and saw an elderly woman emerge from the main house, Sister Sun, who usually accompanied An Chengqi.
Seeing Tang Sihai, Sister Sun smiled, “Sihai, you’ve had a long and tiring journey.”
Tang Sihai chuckled, “I’ve been enjoying the tropical island vibes in Tahiti lately, not tiring at all, it’s you, Sister Sun, always by Madam’s side, that’s the real hard work.”
He paused, looked up at the hazy moonlight, took a deep breath of the damp, cold winter air, and sighed, “Sister Sun, to be honest, I’m not quite used to southern winters, it reminds me of Young Master, that first winter he spent in the orphanage, often shivering in his blanket at night from the wet cold, that orphanage was so old, no heating, no air conditioning, just single-pane windows, I wanted to do something for him, but feared doing too much would raise his suspicions or draw attention, so I let him suffer frostbite, thinking back to that winter, I shed many tears for him in Yanjing…”
