Chen Mo slowly opened his eyes.
Morning sunlight streamed into the room, soft and warm. After the high tension surrounding the seismograph project, the silence felt almost surreal. For the first time in days, his mind was at ease.
He lay still, enjoying the rare peace.
A few moments later, the door creaked open.
Xiao Yu stepped in, a gentle smile blooming on her face as she saw Chen Mo awake.
"Get up, it's time for work."
Chen Mo smiled in return. Her presence always eased his nerves like a balm. No matter how chaotic the world got, seeing her was like taking a breath of fresh air.
A while later, Xiao Yu reappeared, dressed in smart office attire. Her long hair was tied up neatly, replacing her usual softness with a polished, professional look. She radiated quiet confidence.
As she adjusted her outfit, she caught Chen Mo watching her.
Her cheeks flushed with color.
Even though they were already in a relationship, his gaze still made her heart race.
Shaking off his sleepiness, Chen Mo rose and began his morning routine.
By the time he joined her at the breakfast table, Xiao Yu had already prepared a simple meal—white porridge, omelets, and freshly sliced apple. She wore light makeup, her natural beauty gently accentuated.
Despite their wealth, Xiao Yu insisted on making breakfast herself. No maids, no assistants. It was her little ritual—a way to care for him.
And she was serious about it. The fruits rotated daily, the meals always fresh and carefully plated.
As Chen Mo ate with gusto, Xiao Yu smiled warmly at the sight.
Their morning routine hadn't changed, even though their lives had.
"You keep looking at me like that," she teased, "is it because I'm so pretty? Or do you have… thoughts?"
"With a face like yours? Hard not to," Chen Mo replied, smirking.
Xiao Yu's laughter rang like a bell.
After their cozy breakfast, they left for the company. Work awaited.
Xiao Yu, now Zhao Min's assistant, was busy as ever. Zhao Min often delegated important administrative tasks to her, and she handled them with growing confidence.
As for Chen Mo, with the seismograph project wrapping up, it was time to begin his next big focus: room-temperature superconductors.
Inside the executive office, Zhao Min handed him a stack of documents.
"Boss, all the paperwork for seismograph production is in motion," she said, energetic as ever.
The Marching Ant Company was no longer just famous—it had become the global tech leader. Zhao Min, as its president, had helped shape this empire from the ground up.
"Any new developments?" Chen Mo asked as he flipped through the documents.
"The media is still going wild," Zhao Min said with a smile. "You're a global sensation. Wall Street analysts are calling us the most valuable company in the world."
The valuation of the Marching Ant Company had experts scrambling. Too high, and it seemed unrealistic. Too low, and it became an insult.
And yet, every share remained under Chen Mo's control, making a public listing nearly impossible. His personal worth? Beyond calculation.
He wasn't just an entrepreneur anymore—he was a symbol.
And Zhao Min? She had become one of the world's most influential women.
"You need to stop stirring things up for a while," Zhao Min warned.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Chen Mo blinked.
"We're too hot. Too visible," she said, her tone serious now. "The seismograph didn't step on any major powers' toes, but next time might be different. You should know that."
"We just got out of trouble."
"Exactly," Zhao Min nodded. "And if you keep going like this, one day even I won't be able to hold the company together."
She wasn't exaggerating. When Chen Mo released the seismograph data, Zhao Min and Li Lingfeng had been ready for the worst. It was only the success of the warning that saved them from disaster—and turned it into triumph.
"Fine," Chen Mo raised a hand in mock surrender. "I'll keep a low profile. Model citizen mode activated."
She didn't smile.
"I'm serious. If anything happens to you, the company is finished. So be careful. Don't test your luck."
Chen Mo nodded solemnly. The last few incidents had taught him to respect the weight of his influence—and his vulnerability.
"One more thing," Zhao Min continued. "Several ambassadors from earthquake-prone countries have already contacted us. They want information on the seismograph."
"What kind of information?"
"They're most interested in accuracy and pricing."
Chen Mo thought for a moment.
"Well, we can't promise 100% accuracy. Maybe 80% at best, based on current data. The last warning was a success, but we need more test cases to refine it. Production cost is around 3 million RMB per unit. How much are we selling for?"
He looked at Zhao Min. Sales strategy wasn't his forte—that was her domain.
Zhao Min didn't hesitate. She raised five fingers.
"50 million," she said.
Chen Mo choked on air.
"Yuan?"
"Dollars," Zhao Min replied smoothly.
Chen Mo stared at her, stunned.
She smiled sweetly, eyes gleaming.
He suddenly felt a chill.
"What's that look for?" she asked, amused. "We're not selling to individuals—we're dealing with governments. This is national-level safety tech."
"Still, that's highway robbery," he muttered.
"Remember graphene?" Zhao Min countered. "When the West monopolized it, they charged 5,000 yuan per gram. After we broke the monopoly? Now it's dirt cheap. If they had developed the seismograph first, you think they'd sell it for less than 100 million?"
"Alright, alright," Chen Mo laughed. "Poverty has really limited my imagination."
"Exactly," Zhao Min nodded. "That's why you focus on the tech, and I'll handle the business."
She said it lightly, but she meant it. Chen Mo was brilliant, but still green in the ways of power and economics. Despite his towering achievements, he hadn't fully grown into the role of a corporate leader.
Zhao Min had made it her mission to prepare him for that world.