When the very first batch of cookies was slid into the oven, the butler finally finished changing his trousers and hurried down to the kitchen.
Right behind him followed Lin Yishui, who had eagerly requested a front-row seat to “Young Master Chi’s kitchen debut.”
Chi Ye flashed a cheerful grin at the butler, completely ignoring Lin Yishui, and turned back around to press his face against the oven’s glass door, watching intently.
After a moment, he looked somewhat dissatisfied.
The flour was freshly ground at the mill, and the butter had just been air-freighted from France that very morning. Everything was absolute perfection—except for the rather indescribable shapes of the cookies.
Chi Ye had originally intended to bake actual words, something that would match He Lin’s high-and-mighty, poker-faced temperament.
Words like “Democracy, Harmony, Freedom, Equality…”
Or at least spell out their initials so the man could piece them together.
Who would have guessed that in such a massive villa, spanning three fully equipped kitchens for Chinese cuisine, Western cuisine, and backup prep, not a single cookie mold could be found anywhere?
The chef bowed slightly, struggling to explain, “We honestly never have any use for them, sir. The Second Master places great emphasis on body fat management and rarely eats sweets, so we never make cookies.”
To reject even the temptation of food—simply inhumane.
Bowing his head to adversity, Chi Ye had no choice but to shape the dough entirely by hand: “Democracy,” “Freedom,” “Equa”… The character for “Equality” ($等$) was simply too complex! Barely minutes into the oven, it had puffed up into an unidentifiable blob.
Chi Ye felt a twinge of discouragement. With so many strokes, he had spent nearly half an hour molding that single character.
Sensing the young master’s abruptly plummeting spirits, the kitchen staff held their collective breath. Everyone lowered their heads, suddenly finding the patterns on the floor tiles utterly fascinating.
Ding… The oven door opened.
Chi Ye cautiously pulled out the shapeless blob, inspecting it from every angle. Sure enough, any trace of characters had long since vanished.
The Waterloo arrived with breathtaking suddenness. Pulling a long face, the young master hoisted a cookie up toward the sunlight, gazing up at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle.
With lightning reflexes, Lin Yishui whipped out his phone and snapped a rapid sequence of photos to immortalize the moment.
Chi Ye shot him a scathing glare. “Are you a monkey sent by the heavens specifically to torment me?”
With an utterly deadpan expression, Lin Yishui replied, “It’s a first time, after all. The historical significance is different.”
Chi Ye snapped, “It’s my first time—what does that have to do with you?”
The butler’s aged face flushed a faint red at the unfiltered banter.
Swallowing hard, Lin Yishui offered a strained justification. “Any first time deserves to be documented. Look at imperial concubines in history—their first night serving the emperor was always meticulously recorded by eunuchs in the court diaries…”
Chi Ye’s gaze dropped meaningfully toward Lin Yishui’s crotch. “Are you a eunuch?”
Lin Yishui: “…”
Lunging forward, Chi Ye tried to snatch the phone away. “Delete that.”
Lin Yishui raised his arm high above his head. “Not happening.”
Standing half a forehead taller than Chi Ye, Lin Yishui kept the device well out of reach, leaving Chi Ye glaring in furious frustration.
With so many servants watching, the butler could no longer stand idly by. “Please don’t be angry, Madam. Assistant Lin is simply doing his job; the Second Master instructed him to keep a record of your words and actions for regular reporting.”
Chi Ye froze mid-motion.
Instantly abandoning his tantrum, he grew remarkably obedient, though the slight twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed that he was currently cursing He Lin to the tenth generation in his heart.
“Uncle Zhu, please stop calling me ‘Madam’ from now on.” Turning his head back toward his freshly baked cookies, Chi Ye shrugged, letting go of his frustration with easy grace as he generously addressed the room. “Distribute these. The presentation is terrible, but everyone feel free to sample them.”
The chefs, kitchen assistants, and young maids had been lingering nearby, drawn by the rich milky aroma, but no one dared make a move. After all, these were handmade by Young Master Chi himself—who knew if eating them might shorten one’s lifespan?
Lin Yishui, however, showed no such hesitation. Acting as though the previous clash had never happened, he plucked two cookies straight from the tray and popped them into his mouth.
Initially wearing an attitude of provocative amusement, his chewing rhythm slowed down after a few bites. The look he cast toward Chi Ye gradually shifted, becoming intricate and unreadable.
“Did you really make these?”
Chi Ye couldn’t be bothered to dignify that with a response.
Unwilling to see the young master’s hard work wasted, the butler clamped a firm, protective grip over Lin Yishui’s thieving hand as it reached for another cookie. “Couldn’t you just remake the characters that didn’t turn out well? Such a shame.”
“No can do. Different baking batches introduce subtle variations in texture.”
With an unyielding attitude, Chi Ye rolled up his sleeves once more, gathered his resolve, and started entirely from scratch.
He ended up baking three more consecutive batches, spending the entire afternoon on them. Each time, he felt they fell short of perfection—either a horizontal stroke was crooked or a vertical line leaned.
The butler offered repeated reassurances. “It’s the thought that counts, sir. The mere fact that you went to such lengths is already extraordinary. The Second Master is bound to love them.”
Chi Ye shook his head.
Using heartfelt sentiment to move someone was a luxury reserved for genuine lovers—people exchanging romantic breakfast trays or candlelight dinners.
What were he and He Lin, exactly?
Only days ago, the man would have happily watched him rot away in solitary confinement. Earning a single merciful bite was already cause to chant Amitabha.
Moved? Pleased? Disgusted and disdainful was much closer to the truth.
At this thought, Chi Ye’s energy abruptly deflated. Shaking his head, he left the freshly baked pile of cookies right where they were and strode out of the kitchen.
Behind him, Lin Yishui frowned thoughtfully.
Watching Chi Ye’s lonely receding figure with a pang of heartache, the butler called out twice, receiving no response.
Having survived a harrowing stint in the basement, the young master had truly grown up overnight. Clearly a sensitive and delicate soul beneath the surface, he stubbornly maintained a facade of carefree, optimistic resilience.
It was all too much.
Filled with a deep sense of pathos, the old man took it upon himself to act as a bridge for Chi Ye’s social standing.
He instructed the junior maid to pack the cookies individually into boxes and distribute them outside—bodyguards, cleaners, gatekeepers, anyone working on the villa grounds received a share. No one was left out.
The junior maid executed her duties with zealous diligence, going so far as to tug on people’s sleeves as she handed out each piece. “This is Young Master Chi’s very first batch—extraordinarily significant!”
Every corner of the villa was swept by a wave of profound gratitude. Having grown accustomed to Chi Ye’s fiery outbursts and shrewish tantrums, when had they ever seen him show empathy for the working class and personally bake treats for the staff?
Better yet, they genuinely tasted delicious.
Aside from a few bewildered bodyguards who happened to be dealt the distorted “Equality” character and spent half the night puzzling over it with magnifying glasses—ultimately failing to deduce whether the young master was indulging a whimsical whim or issuing a subtle warning about keeping people waiting too long—the snacks were a hit.
One way or another, Chi Ye had unconsciously built up an enormous reserve of goodwill among the people in He Lin’s inner circle.
As dusk descended, the evening glow painted half the sky a brilliant crimson.
Inside his study, He Lin sat leaning back against his executive chair, his eyes slowly opening.
On the screen before him sat the flash drive Chi Ye had handed over a few days ago.
The contents were exhaustive—veritable internal documents belonging to the Guanlong Group, the vast majority falling under core corporate secrets.
Chi Ye hadn’t lied to him.
While Chi Ye had been living a leisurely life these past few days, He Lin had burned the midnight oil through multiple consecutive all-nighters, personally verifying every single piece of data stored on the drive without delegating a single task to subordinates.
Only now did the young CEO realize just how staggering and comprehensive the materials in “Chi Ye’s” possession truly were. Beyond the surface-level product lines, patents, and core designs, the cache included hidden-bid documents, dual-track contracts, and even executive employment agreements.
More than enough to force the Huanyu Group into bankruptcy and liquidation.
Gathering such exhaustive intelligence would have taken anywhere from two to three years. Had “Chi Ye” been harboring malicious intent against him from the very day of their wedding?
He Lin pressed a thumb against the bridge of his nose.
The temperature within the study dropped a couple of degrees out of thin air.
He Lin was no ordinary young entrepreneur. At twenty-two, he had ascended to the head of the He family, purging political rivals with lightning speed and consolidating power. Through brilliant strategic maneuvering and relentless commercial expansion, he had transformed a regional family business into one of China’s premier multinational conglomerates in a mere seven or eight years. While prodigious business acumen played a role, his defining trait was his ruthless, decisive execution.
Yet, faced with the current incarnation of Chi Ye, his hand had faltered more than once.
Unconsciously, He Lin reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an unopened box of polymer clay, slowly kneading it between his fingers.
The image of Chi Ye in the basement, pushed to the point where the corners of his eyes flushed pink, drifted into his mind.
The young man seemed even more striking now.
Yet it wasn’t merely a matter of looks; his inner essence had transformed as well—as though the entire person had been stripped to the bone and completely remolded.
He Lin closed the display screen and turned his gaze toward the window.
Out on the garden lawn, several maids were sharing the cookies, their bright laughter carrying clearly across multiple floors.
He Lin’s eyes narrowed slightly.
What was it that Butler Zhu had come to report earlier?
Something about Chi Ye baking cookies specifically for him? And Lin Yishui had taken pictures because it was his first time?
Yet… why was that “first time” being discussed so openly by everyone else?