It had been a few months since they last met, and when Li Xuan saw Song Wen again, he almost didn’t recognize him.
He was several shades darker. He had never been fair-skinned to begin with, but now he was practically chocolate dark. His buzzed hair was so short that his shiny scalp was visible. Noticing Li Xuan’s gaze, Song Wen laughed and turned his head to show a scar over two inches long on the back of his head.
“Bumped my head. Had to shave it all off. It’s been growing out for months, and this is all I’ve got so far.”
His personality, however, was exactly the same—bold, energetic, and naturally sociable.
They had agreed on a meeting at 2:30 in the afternoon, but he arrived nearly an hour early. The morning meeting had dragged on, so by the time he showed up, Li Xuan had just left the conference room and was discussing the next steps with Chu Tianheng in the office while getting ready for lunch.
Li Xuan introduced him to Chu Tianheng, and then Song Wen asked, “I heard Xiao Qi resigned?”
“News travels fast, huh?” Li Xuan chuckled.
“Nah, not really,” Song Wen waved a hand. “He used to coordinate with my secretary, and a while ago, he messaged me saying he wasn’t working here anymore and that I should contact you directly. What happened? Why’d he quit? That doesn’t sound right.”
“Why not?” Li Xuan asked indifferently.
“Well, he never seemed like the type to leave you high and dry,” Song Wen said, tapping the corner of his eye. “I’m not the best at everything, but I can read people.”
Li Xuan chuckled. The topic was a bit awkward, so Chu Tianheng quickly changed the subject. “Song Wen, have you had lunch yet? Want to eat with us? We haven’t started yet.”
It was just a polite offer—this wasn’t a formal business lunch, and Song Wen was here to discuss a partnership. Eating a casual work meal together felt a bit unprofessional.
But Song Wen’s way of thinking was clearly different from most people’s.
“You know what? I haven’t! I live near here, so I skipped my office and came straight over.”
He sat down directly as he spoke. “Then I won’t be polite?”
Chu Tianheng and Li Xuan exchanged a glance. Li Xuan didn’t seem surprised at all and casually handed an extra set of disposable chopsticks and a bowl to Song Wen. Then, he turned to Chu Tianheng and said, “Senior, have the administration order two more dishes and send them up. Do you have any dietary restrictions, Mr. Song?”
“No, I eat everything. But I have an injury on my head—the scab hasn’t fallen off yet. The doctor recently advised me to stick to a light diet.”
Chu Tianheng nodded and quickly went to place the order. When he returned, Song Wen had already launched into an animated recounting of his recent experiences, as if he had been cooped up in a hospital bed for too long and was eager to talk.
He explained that during a mountain climbing competition, he had taken a wrong path. Unluckily, he was stranded on the mountain for several days and then encountered extreme weather. Before he could find a way out, his communication device fell into a deep narrow valley. With one setback after another, his luck seemed to have run out. He was trapped for nearly half a month before the rescue team found him. By the time he was taken down the mountain, he was barely conscious. He drifted in and out of consciousness for three months in the hospital. When the foreign doctor finally told him he could be discharged, he said it felt like he had just finished serving a prison sentence.
“At my hungriest, even my own arm smelled like meat,” Song Wen said, then pulled out his phone and showed them an English news report. “Look at this—‘Chinese mountaineer missing, multiple searches yield no results.’”
Then, he pointed at himself with a smug look. “That’s me.”
Chu Tianheng couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his eye.
“Overseas rescue missions cost money. After two rounds of searching, they wanted to call it quits. Luckily, my brother came, or I’d probably still be up there on the mountain…” He smacked his lips. “I’m thirsty—got any water?”
Li Xuan handed him a bottle and asked casually, “So, Mr. Song, will you go again?”
“Of course.” Song Wen gulped down a few mouthfuls of water and answered without hesitation. “You don’t understand. When I was lost up there, unable to find a way down, it was really frustrating. Then, one night, I woke up from hunger and looked up. The sky was this deep, deep blue, and it felt like I could touch it just by reaching out. It was so breathtaking that I suddenly thought, seeing something like that… if I died on the mountain, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.”
As they talked, the additional dishes arrived.
The downstairs restaurant didn’t follow any specific cuisine style but served home-style dishes that were fairly decent. They had added scrambled eggs with shrimp, baby bok choy in broth, and a tomato fish dish.
Song Wen was indeed quite hungry—after eating half a bowl of rice, he finally got to the point. “I don’t need to say it—you must already know why I’m here. I still want to invest in Yuan Yi. Last time, you weren’t looking for investment. I wonder if now is the right time?”
At such a difficult time for the company, coming from someone else, this question might have sounded like mockery. But when Chu Tianheng looked at Song Wen’s expression, it was completely sincere.
Li Xuan knew Song Wen’s straightforward personality and put down his chopsticks. “Even though you just got back to China, I don’t think you came here without knowing anything. To be frank, Yuan Yi isn’t at the point of collapse yet, but having extra funding would definitely help us. However, for you, this might not be the best time.”
“I know.” Song Wen nodded. “Before I left the country, I told my secretary to keep a close watch on Yuan Yi. But while I was abroad, my family didn’t want the company to contact me, worried it would affect my recovery. And honestly, my health didn’t allow it at the time. I was discharged and returned home last Wednesday, spent a few days adjusting to the time zone and recovering, and only officially resumed work yesterday. My secretary has already briefed me on your situation.”
He paused and took a sip of soup. “There are a few things I want to confirm. I’ve heard some rumors, though I can’t verify their accuracy. Is it true that Nook was taken down recently due to false plagiarism accusations? And that Void Island used unpublished content from Nook for its new map updates?”
Li Xuan glanced at Song Wen before lowering his gaze and carefully picking a fine fishbone from the white fillet. “If you’ve heard it in such detail, it must be more than just a rumor. It looks like someone approached you before you came to me.”
Song Wen didn’t bother hiding it. “They haven’t contacted me directly yet, but they did reach out to my secretary.”
Li Xuan smiled faintly. “It’s true. So if they also tried to threaten you, you should probably take it seriously.”
But Song Wen seemed more concerned about another issue. He asked in confusion, “So Void Island really did plagiarize Nook? Was there no legal action? I know it’s hard to collect evidence for game-related cases in China, and the damage is already done, but…”
“We reported it to the authorities because a former planner was involved,” Chu Tianheng said, a little uneasy. “We pursued compensation under labor law.”
That explanation clearly didn’t satisfy Song Wen. “What I mean is…”
“For personal reasons, I chose not to pursue further legal action,” Li Xuan said calmly.
Song Wen was stunned for a few seconds, then let out an “Oh” and nodded twice. “Alright, no problem. I was just asking. I thought maybe there was some other reason, like the lawsuit wasn’t going anywhere, and I was wondering if I could step in to mediate—I do have some connections in the system… But if you made this decision yourself, then that’s that. I respect it completely.”
After speaking, he casually ate a couple more bites. His unpredictable way of handling things left Chu Tianheng a little perplexed. Chu Tianheng watched as Song Wen set down his chopsticks, filled a bowl with soup, and turned to Li Xuan. “I don’t have any more questions. Do you have anything else you want to clarify? Xiao Qi has been handling most of the negotiations, so I’m not sure how much you know. I brought some documents with me.”
He took out a file from his bag and handed it to Li Xuan. Li Xuan simply asked, “You’ve made up your mind?”
Song Wen looked puzzled. “Of course. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“If you invest in me, I won’t let you lose money.” Li Xuan hesitated for two seconds before finally taking the documents. “But there will definitely be a period of uncertainty, and I need to be upfront about that.”
Song Wen waved it off. “That’s fine. I’m not afraid of a little risk. Some of my investor friends have looked into your project. To be honest, I discussed it with them in the past few days. They have concerns—I don’t. I don’t have a boss breathing down my neck, waiting for me to deliver investment returns.”
Li Xuan reminded him calmly, “It will be difficult for Nook to return to its previous high level in the short term. You might not get the returns you want right away.”
“In the past, entrepreneurs had to do their best to sell themselves, while investors like me picked at flaws to drive prices down. But look, today the roles are reversed. Li Xuan, I trust your abilities. I’m investing in you, not just the project. As long as you’re here, why worry about not having another Nook?” Song Wen laughed heartily. “This might not sound appropriate, but in a way, I’m lucky that Yuan Yi’s facing these difficulties. Otherwise, by the time I finished running around abroad and came back, where else would I find such a great opportunity?”
Li Xuan neither agreed nor disagreed. After thinking for a moment, he asked, “How much equity do you want, Mr. Song?”
Song Wen caught the implication, his eyes lighting up. He responded earnestly, “Just ten percent will do.”
Li Xuan thought for a moment. “I’ll give you twelve.”
“Alright.” Song Wen was briefly stunned before clapping his hands. “Since you’re being sincere, I won’t hold back either. For the first round, I’ll give you this amount.”
He dipped his finger in water and wrote a number on the table, followed by several zeros.
“Give me a bank account. Once I get back to my office, I’ll transfer the money right away. If you need more later, just let me know. As long as I have it, I won’t hold back.”
Chu Tianheng was taken aback. “Shouldn’t we sign a contract first?”
Song Wen seemed unconcerned. “The contract is just a formality. I’ll have someone draft it once I get back, or you guys can do it if you prefer. Since the company needs funds now, the priority is getting the money transferred.”
“You draft it, Mr. Song. Once it’s ready, we’ll have our lawyers review it.”
“Deal.” Song Wen lifted his bowl and clinked it lightly against Li Xuan’s. “Let’s toast with soup instead of wine. To a successful partnership.”
Li Xuan finally smiled. “To a successful partnership.”
…..
After the meal, Song Wen left quickly, saying he would arrange the transfer and contract.
It took a while for Chu Tianheng to fully process what had happened. After having the restaurant downstairs clear the dishes, he still seemed dazed. He even grabbed a napkin and obsessively wiped the already spotless table several times before tossing it aside. “So… that was it? The deal is done?”
Li Xuan chuckled.
“One meal… no, half a meal.” Chu Tianheng sighed. “I was even preparing a whole PowerPoint presentation to brainwash him this afternoon. Back when I was at Yuanxin, I attended several investor meetings. Those investors in suits and ties were nothing like this.”
Li Xuan scoffed. “I never liked Yuanxin’s way of doing things, from the investors down to the company itself.”
Chu Tianheng nodded but remained cautious. “How many times have you guys talked before? …You sure he’s not tricking us?” He gestured toward the water stains left on the table. “Even before Yuan Yi had problems, Boyuan’s negotiations with investors never reached this price.”
“This was only our second conversation.” Li Xuan smiled. Seeing the immediate suspicion in Chu Tianheng’s eyes, he shrugged. “If he is tricking us, it’s not a big deal. Worst case, we just lost a few extra dishes.”
Chu Tianheng’s concerns proved unfounded—an hour later, the money was in their account.
On the day the contract was signed, Song Wen came by again for an in-depth discussion about the company’s situation. As he had stated before, despite investing, he didn’t intend to interfere in the company’s operations. His first move was to help Yuan Yi deal with the unresolved platform issues and the pending compensation claims from business partners.
Having worked in the gaming industry himself for years, Song Wen had experience, connections, and a strong sense of loyalty. He handled many issues more smoothly than either Chu Tianheng or Li Xuan could.
With the financial pressure alleviated, Li Xuan was finally able to focus on the game itself, and progress increased significantly.
After several meetings, they unanimously decided to salvage Nook as much as possible.
The original framework was scrapped entirely. They started from scratch, spending weeks locked in the meeting room from morning till night, building models and writing code—though they never pulled all-nighters. By ten at the latest, Sheng Min would be waiting downstairs with a homemade late-night snack to drive Li Xuan home.
He had already returned to rehearsing at the theater. In fact, the day Yin Qianpin sent a message, but Sheng Min didn’t show up for roll call, Yin Qianpin and Deng Jing went straight to his place to drag him out. After being spotted at the drama theater multiple times, reporters started camping outside. Tired of the speculation, Yin Qianpin simply announced that Sheng Min would be starring in ‘Not Just a Mountain’.
The news sparked widespread discussion. Most in the industry remained skeptical, but Sheng Min was unfazed.
He spent his mornings rehearsing at the theater, went home around six or seven in the evening, prepared Li Xuan’s late-night meal, and then picked him up.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” Li Xuan asked. “My car is fixed now—you don’t need to do this every day.”
“If I don’t come get you, you’ll never remember to take a break.” Sheng Min smiled. “Don’t get too used to this though, once the tour starts, I won’t have this much time.”
“That’s fine. Once this phase is over, I’ll be the one picking you up.”
Winter nights were cold, and Li Xuan didn’t want Sheng Min to wait long. Whenever he got a call, he would quickly wrap up his work and head downstairs.
Before long, everyone at the company knew he had a steady partner, and gossip was inevitable.
Only Chu Tianheng remembered Li Xuan’s deadpan confession that he was dating a male celebrity. So every time colleagues speculated that Li Xuan’s partner was a gentle and elegant beauty, he couldn’t help but feel secondhand embarrassment.
While Li Xuan and Chu Tianheng focused on the game, their investor, Song Wen, found himself taking over most of the company’s daily management. He often joked that he had been scammed—he thought he was just investing money, but somehow ended up working as a full-time manager.
“I haven’t even managed my own company this closely in ages,” Song Wen mock-complained. Then, more seriously, he asked, “What is Xiao Qi doing these days? Can we get him back? Let me off the hook.”
Chu Tianheng was more than eager to have QI Boyuan back, but Li Xuan seemed to have his own plans—every time the topic came up, he simply acted like he hadn’t heard it.
Meanwhile, Li Mingge wasn’t sitting idle. He once again reached out to Song Wen, using both threats and incentives, even attempting to create obstacles for Song Wen’s company. Song Wen never hid any of this from Li Xuan, but he also didn’t seem to care much.
“You don’t need to worry about it,” he told Li Xuan. “This is just the risk I have to bear if I want a high return. I accept that. As long as you build Yuan Yi up, I’ll make my money back.”
With that, in the midst of a tight but orderly schedule, Nook finally saw its first content update a month after the plagiarism scandal broke.
The update went live precisely at noon. Inside the company, everyone was glued to their phones and computers, completely motionless, as if it were the game’s very first launch.
“No need to stare at it—it’s not going anywhere,” Li Xuan said as he stepped out of his office. “Go back to work.”
“How could we focus on anything else?” Chu Tianheng kept sipping water nervously. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt this tense…”
As he spoke, a cheer erupted from the main office. The update was live.
The entire afternoon was spent refreshing backend data. No matter how confident they had been before launch, doubts still lingered. Only when they saw the steady rise in revenue did they finally breathe easy.
“I’ve done a preliminary analysis of the data,” Chu Tianheng reported to Li Xuan in his office. “After the update, old user engagement has increased by 37 percent. As of now, 563,000 users who hadn’t logged in for over 30 days have returned to the game.”
“Let me see.” Li Xuan reached for the tablet in Chu Tianheng’s hand and scrolled through the data. His brows eased slightly when he saw the revenue figures, and a rare smile appeared. “Senior, you’ve worked hard these past few weeks.”
“There’s no need to say that between us.”
Li Xuan handed the tablet back and reminded him, “Also, keep a close eye on things in the next few days. Any movements from Void Island?”
“Nothing so far,” Chu Tianheng said, his expression turning serious. “I’ll be cautious.”
Before the update, even Song Wen had speculated about what counterattack Li Mingge might launch.
They all agreed it wouldn’t happen immediately—they’d likely have at least a week to prepare.
But the unexpected came sooner than anticipated. Before 7 PM that very night, the police suddenly arrived at the company.
“They’re looking for me?”
“Are you Li Xuan?” A young officer presented his badge, his tone serious. “You are involved in a premeditated murder case. Please cooperate with our investigation and come with us.”
