Years passed. Lay was no longer just an employee — he had risen to the top ranks of NOVA, standing as the right hand of Mr. Wang, the CEO himself.
Though his title carried authority, Lay never hid behind it. He stepped into the field whenever needed — negotiating deals, supervising shipments, even settling disputes. His energy, the same as on his first day, earned him respect. He wasn't the kind of man to sit in an office; he worked shoulder to shoulder with everyone.
At twenty-one, when he first joined, no one believed that a boy with a baby face and a grieving heart could survive in such a ruthless world. Yet, by twenty-seven, Lay had not only survived — he had built a life.
With the encouragement of his seniors, he had even begun his own venture in artificial intelligence, secretly preparing to one day bring his dream business to life.
From a young age, Lay had shared a modest three-room apartment with his beloved granny. It wasn't in a flashy part of the city — the neighborhood sat just outside the central district — but it was known as the third most popular residential area in the country. Every day, Lay traveled back and forth, saving every coin for the future he longed to build.
Now, that future had arrived. Lay lived in a grand mansion in the richest district of the country, on a hill known as Treasure Hill — home to the nation's wealthiest, including Mr. Wang and Mr. Lu. A sleek black car always stood waiting at his gates. Granny was no longer alone; maids filled the halls, caring for her and the house.
The mansion itself was more than a home — it was a museum. Exotic collections lined its halls: rare figurines, antique paintings, even the first camera model ever made. The collection had only just begun, but every item had its place.
"Listen, Miss," Granny said proudly to a maid, "these are my Pumpkin's treasures. Be careful."
"No worries, ma'am," the maid replied. "I'll take extra care."
The sound of a car pulling in broke the quiet.
"Ah! My Pumpkin is here!" Granny hurried to the door.
"My sweetheart, how are you? Give me your bag," she said, reaching for it.
"Ah, Granny, no need." Lay smiled, gently putting his arm around her neck as they walked in together.
Lay's Room
His dream room reflected his taste — polished marble floors, custom designs, and a special door that led to a secret hot spring built just for him. Only Granny knew about this secret.
Above all, the room held a portrait. Every day, as he entered or left, his eyes fell upon it.
"Papa… Mama…" he whispered.
"It took me years just to be able to look at you openly. I'm sorry. I don't have the face to meet you when I see you in real. I was too weak, too unlucky… even to look at your picture. But not anymore. I'll end this game. I'll bring you home, Papa. That's my promise."
He placed his hand gently against the portrait, closing his eyes.
Then—
a faint sound.
A low murmur. Strained. Pained.
"…ahhh… please…"
Lay's expression shifted, but not with fear. His eyes hardened.
The sound came from behind the secret door.