Clouds Part, and I Begin

Ye Zhiqiu deliberated over his choices in his room, ultimately selecting the simplest outfit.

With the injury on his face, overly elaborate clothing would be counterproductive.

But Tao Ruoqing was delighted nonetheless. At the very least, it meant Ye Zhiqiu still took Qi Xin quite seriously.

As soon as Ye Zhiqiu left, she immediately began dressing up herself, heading off to meet her card-playing friends.

There was some traffic on the road.

Ye Zhiqiu talked with Zhang Mian on the phone as he traveled.

“The money’s already arrived,” Zhang Mian said. “I’m at the factory now too. The rent and contract issues can be completely resolved today.”

“Good,” Ye Zhiqiu chuckled. “Shan Yuan moved pretty fast.”

“Yeah, he said the buyer came to pick up the car first thing this morning,” Zhang Mian replied, then added with a laugh, “Let’s grab lunch together. Once I’m done here, I’ll head to your school and wait.”

Ye Zhiqiu agreed.

Securing the factory was just the first step. There were many things ahead that required detailed discussion with Zhang Mian.

But with so many people around the school area, many of whom recognized Ye Zhiqiu, he ultimately chose a more private Western restaurant near VIA to meet Zhang Mian.

“Xiaoqiu,” Tang Le approached him after morning classes, books in hand. “Let’s hit the cafeteria for some Bobo Chicken. I remember you said you wanted it last time.”

He leaned in to examine the injury on Ye Zhiqiu’s face. “Why is it still so noticeable?”

“It’s nothing.” Ye Zhiqiu casually slung his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m not eating at school today. VIA has a lot of work waiting, I need to head over now.”

Tang Le: “…”

In the past, Ye Zhiqiu never went anywhere without him. But ever since he started working recently, it seemed they rarely even had lunch together anymore.

“I’m so jealous you can work already.” Tang Le smiled considerately. “Drive safe, Xiaoqiu.”

Ye Zhiqiu nodded with a faint smile, waved casually, and strode away.

By the time he reached the Western restaurant, Zhang Mian was already waiting in the private room.

From the look on his face, even without asking, Ye Zhiqiu knew everything had gone smoothly.

“Ye—” Zhang Mian looked up from the menu at the sound of the door, his topic shifting abruptly. “What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” Ye Zhiqiu set down his backpack and sat across from him with a smile. “Don’t young people get into fights sometimes?”

“Don’t tell me it was over this money?” Zhang Mian asked uncertainly.

Ye Zhiqiu neither confirmed nor denied it, drinking some water first to moisten his throat. “Tell me about today’s progress.”

At the mention of work, Zhang Mian straightened up, taking contracts and other relevant documents from his briefcase and pushing them across to Ye Zhiqiu.

“That’s quite a gag gift,” Ye Zhiqiu didn’t believe for a second that Zhang Mian had done nothing. “Didn’t they already give us a break on the rent?”

“I knew I couldn’t hide it from you.” Zhang Mian laughed. “I only realized today how nice Mrs. Huo is. You know what Old Huo told his wife? He said he charged us five fifty a square, tch…”

He chuckled. “That money was probably skimmed from what he gives his mistress.”

“Mm,” Ye Zhiqiu said.

Mrs. Huo was genuinely kind and gentle. No wonder Zhang Mian felt indignant for her.

“I just gave the slightest hint,” Zhang Mian continued. “Who knew Old Huo would have such a guilty conscience?”

“Everyone does what they have to do.” Ye Zhiqiu pushed the contracts back and pulled a stack of paper documents from his own backpack. “I’ve compiled these. Some technologies and solutions that haven’t yet appeared or become widespread in the industry. Given your prior work experience and familiarity, you should be able to grasp these quickly.”

“These…” Zhang Mian flipped through a few pages, barely able to conceal his shock. “Where did all this come from?”

“Don’t ask.” Ye Zhiqiu’s tone was calm but brooked no refusal.

Zhang Mian: “…”

His heart raced with confusion, as if caught in an unreal dream.

Anyone would know these materials were practically priceless.

No wonder Ye Zhiqiu had been so certain before, saying that if they broke through, even Ruiyi might have to look up to them someday.

“You can look at the raw material substitutions section.” Ye Zhiqiu began eating. “Part of it can be applied to Huo Jun’s orders to substantially reduce costs.”

Zhang Mian flipped further.

Compared to higher-end goals requiring long-term scientific experimentation to achieve, discovering more energy-efficient, lower-cost alternative materials was undoubtedly the most time-efficient path to massive profits.

But the drawback was also critical.

Others could imitate it more easily, giving it a limited window for cashing in.

“I understand.” Zhang Mian looked up. “I have quite a few friends in the industry, including some small and medium-sized companies abroad that’ve recently transitioned to new energy. Once I get back, I’ll make samples immediately for testing and then contact them.”

As long as quality passed muster, competitive pricing would surely bring in their first batch of clients.

Zhang Mian understood what this period meant. It was the first step in accumulating capital, the foundation for their future development.

“Oh, right.” Suppressing his inner excitement, Zhang Mian remembered something. “What should we name our company?”

Ye Zhiqiu pondered briefly.

His mother’s name was Lan Yue—a beautiful name, ultimately overshadowed by dark clouds, never to shine again.

After a moment, he smiled. “Let’s call it Yunkai.”

‘Yunkai’—when clouds part, the moon shines through.

His mother, his past self, had never achieved it.

But this time, he would.

* * * *

Ye Zhiqiu had a pincushion strapped to his wrist, scissors in hand, boldly trimming fabric on the mannequin.

Sun Wei leaned against the doorframe, not entering further.

She watched Ye Zhiqiu’s fluid movements, silently marveling again at his versatility.

With him around, they could even save on a pattern maker.

Young as he was, how had he developed such skill?

Deftly pulling away the last strip of fabric, Ye Zhiqiu straightened and looked over.

“It’s nothing.” He tapped the bandage on his face. “This tiny thing won’t leave a mark.”

Sun Wei insisted on seeing for herself. Ye Zhiqiu had no choice but to sit by the window and tilt his face up.

He couldn’t remember the last time so many people had cared about him. He didn’t mind others’ kindness.

“You know what?” Sun Wei carefully removed the bandage from his wound, dipping a cotton swab in scar cream and gently applying it. “This morning, Marketing put some of your recently approved pieces on the official website. The response has been amazing. Lots of people are pushing to open pre-orders.”

“Mm,” Ye Zhiqiu responded.

“I’m considering,” Sun Wei said, “doing a new product launch with some other brands in a while to build momentum.”

In recent years, VIA had gradually declined, rarely even participating in fashion weeks. Their promotional activities mainly relied on their official website, flagship stores, and online streamers.

“Mm.” Ye Zhiqiu had no objections. “Have you chosen collaboration partners yet?”

But the more that was true, the less they could choose lower-tier partners.

That would send a signal that VIA was doing even worse than before.

Jinqi was a mid-to-high-end brand under the Jiang family. Even with affordable bags, collaborating with VIA wasn’t a loss.

“Great,” Ye Zhiqiu smiled.

“Their young boss really admires your designs,” Sun Wei smiled. “We should all get together sometime.”

“No problem,” Ye Zhiqiu said, then asked, “Can I bring a friend?”

“Anyone else, probably not,” Sun Wei screwed the cap back on the scar cream and placed it on Ye Zhiqiu’s desk. “But you? No problem.”

They chatted a bit longer. Sun Wei returned to her office, and Ye Zhiqiu stood up to continue adjusting the half-finished pattern on the mannequin.

Only when his phone rang did he straighten up, rubbing his lower back that had been bent for too long.

It was already quitting time.

Qi Xin had arrived to pick him up as promised.

Ye Zhiqiu put on his coat, wrapped his scarf, and took the elevator down.

This time, Qi Xin had been smart. He’d put on his coat early and gotten out of the car, planning to rush over the moment he spotted Ye Zhiqiu.

As he waited, his heart was full of anxiety.

He hadn’t seen Ye Zhiqiu in just a few days, yet it felt like centuries.

And when he saw the figure approaching, his anxiety instantly turned into uncontrollable excitement. His heart pounded wildly.

In the dim light of dusk, the young man walked toward him step by step.

In that moment, Qi Xin could see no trace of Jiang Nan in Ye Zhiqiu’s eyes at all.

He was so nervous he could barely breathe. He’d clearly planned it all out beforehand—the moment Ye Zhiqiu appeared, he’d rush over…

But now, he couldn’t move at all.

As if Ye Zhiqiu possessed some magic, casting a spell that froze him in place.