Momo's Gradual Change

C124. Brother's Friend.

Chapter 124: Brother's Friend

The roads were clear, and in the sky, there were no traffic queues for takeoff. Their paperwork had been handled earlier, so after only a short wait on the plane, they felt the aircraft begin to move.

As they took off, Song Yimo felt a bit queasy and leaned against her brother for support. Once the feeling passed, she sat up and took in her surroundings.

Unlike Zheng Senlin’s vibrant, multicolored shirt, the cabin interior was a steady silver-gray, exuding a calm elegance. It had all the essentials—bed, wardrobe, sofa, mini-bar, table, chairs—anything one might need.

"Yimo, want something to drink? Milk?"

She actually wanted tea, but, not wanting to inconvenience anyone, Song Yimo asked for plain water instead.

Zheng Senlin didn’t simply hand her a bottle of mineral water. Instead, he asked someone to bring her a cup of warm water.

Nodding toward Wu Ting, Zheng Senlin asked, "Who’s that? A relative?"

"A classmate." Feeling that sounded too distant, Song Yimo added, "A friend."

With his sharp instincts, Zheng Senlin picked up on the subtle cues in her words and expression—it was clear they were friends, though perhaps not close ones.

For an ordinary friend, using his private jet—tsk, Zheng Senlin cast Zhai Muyang a disapproving look.

Brother complex.

Song Yimo glanced back at Wu Ting, lying on the long sofa, and said, "Big Brother, Zheng, I’ll go sit with Wu Ting."

"Finish your water first," Zhai Muyang insisted.

"Alright." She obediently drank it down, smiled at Zheng Senlin, and left.

Zheng Senlin turned on some music, pulled a bottle from the bar, and sat back, lowering his voice. "You’ve really found yourself a treasure."

"Jealous? Jealous you don't have one." Zhai Muyang stretched, accepting the glass. "Just one for me."

"Afraid, on my turf? If the Yang family tries to meddle, I'll cut their hands off."

"I'm not afraid of them," Zhai Muyang replied. "I’m looking after Yimo. I can’t let anything happen to her." Raising his glass, he clinked it with Zheng Senlin’s. "What brings you along anyway?"

"Can’t say why, but lately, nothing excites me," Zheng Senlin said, sprawling into the sofa. "Bored, I guess. All kinds of nonsense creeping into my head. If you hadn’t called, I’d have called you."

"What’s gotten into you?" Zhai Muyang peeled a pomegranate, placing the seeds into a teacup.

"My father recently got promoted."

"I heard. Congratulations. That boosts your standing too."

"But he has no successor."

Zhai Muyang paused, his eyes attentive. "You’re thinking of stepping in?"

Zheng Senlin gave a bitter smile and downed his drink. "The night my father got promoted, some friends dragged me out to celebrate. For the first time, I left halfway through. Just couldn't finish the night."

Zhai Muyang nodded to show he was listening.

"When I got home around three, my father was still in his study, working. All I could think was, what’s the point of reaching that high? Sacrificing everything just to sit in that chair—he’s never had a full night’s sleep, works around the clock. And it’s always work: every trip, every outing, even abroad, is for business. He wakes up in the morning to watch the news and deal with endless documents every day. This is his life. What’s the point of it all?”

Zhai Muyang refilled his glass. Zheng Senlin sat up, his tone casual but thoughtful. "I asked him that night what he gets out of it. You know what he said?"

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Sitting in this seat means those responsibilities are mine. When I leave, they’ll belong to someone else. When I was younger, I never thought I’d make it this far. But since I did, I owe it to those I stepped over along the way.' I wanted to laugh, but somehow I couldn’t. I left that night, haven’t gone back home since."

Zheng Senlin sipped his drink, his eyes clear. "Without my father’s backing, would I have built this company so easily? Would those second-generation heirs treat me like a king? Not a chance."

"So what are you going to do?"

"That’s the question. I lost my mind. I can’t see my future son enduring the life I’ve had. I could change paths, but…is it really an option?"

Leaning in, Zheng Senlin said, "Come on, brother, snap me out of it."

Ignoring him, Zhai Muyang got up, took the pomegranate seeds to Song Yimo, and, seeing the elderly lady beside her asleep, whispered, "Eat these to pass the time."

She looked up. "Thank you, Dage."

He patted her head and returned to his seat.

Zheng Senlin rolled his eyes, muttering, "Brother complex."

"Since the day I met you, I figured you’d follow your father’s path," Zhai Muyang said, clinking glasses again. "You have the knack: you turn black to white, dead to living, cut what needs cutting, keep what needs keeping. You always make the best decision for everyone. It’d be a waste if you didn’t go into politics."

"...I appreciate the compliment."

"No need."

Zheng Senlin shot him a glance, his mind already made up.

Maybe he didn’t need someone to tell him what to do; he just needed someone’s support.

"Uncle Zheng will be thrilled."

"He’ll be happy, all right. Meanwhile, my life descends into misery. And there’s the matter of my assets—they can’t stay in my name anymore. You showed up just in time to help with that paperwork."

Zhai Muyang crossed his legs. "When did I agree to take on your mess?"

Zheng Senlin gaped. "If not you, then who? Ma Bo? He’s practically a ghost. I can’t even hand it to him with any confidence."

"What about Zou Zi?"

"He left the country this afternoon. Family emergency."

"Why didn’t I hear? What happened?"

"His mother’s diagnosed with mid-stage brain cancer. Left with her as soon as they got the results. Zou Zi has no relationship with his father—barely more than enemies. If she is cured, there is still room for recovery. But if Madam Zou…well, it’ll be war between him and his father."

Zheng Senlin took a sip, his tone dark. "Strange, isn’t it? My old man works like an ox, while his father lives a life of ease. What a world."

"If you become like Zouzi's father, your father will break your leg and immediately kick you out of the system."

Zheng Senlin thought about it and nodded, then sighed, "It's something an old man would do."