Liang Chen's mind is always sharp and focused on strategy, but the constant stress of working at Horizon Tech, that high-pressure corporate beast, and the constant, whispering plots going on at Dragon Crest Manor could make things unbearable. You know what I mean, right? When the air is so thick with expectation that you just want a moment to breathe without thinking about what to do next? For Liang Chen, that short but very important break always took him to Moonlit Gardens. This wasn't a fancy, high-society club where people could meet new people; it was a quieter, more understated place in the middle of Shanghai's busy streets, a peaceful oasis where the city's constant noise faded into a soft, almost musical murmur. The tension that usually made his shoulders stiff seemed to melt away as soon as he walked through the old, carved gates. It was a physical release that was both real and needed.
That night, the weight he was carrying felt especially heavy. Corporate spying had gotten worse, becoming a constant threat to Horizon Tech's foundations. The family's power struggles, which had always been there, had gotten worse with a new, annoying intensity. But as he settled into their usual secluded alcove, a cherished corner often bathed in the actual moonlight filtering through dense bamboo, creating dancing shadows, the familiar, comforting faces of Zhang Ming and Kang Hao brought him a deep sense of peace right away. These men weren't just people he had to see or do business with; they were his real friends from a time before his life became a complicated chess game. Their talks here weren't about market shares or boardroom strategies; they were about life, about shared memories that made them laugh out loud, and sometimes, just a comfortable, unspoken understanding in the silence between their sips of tea. Liang Chen could, for a short time, really forget about the predatory ambition of his cousins and the high expectations of his grandfather, Liang Zhong.
The conversation flowed easily as they drank their favorite longjing tea, which smelled good and was warm against the cool Shanghai night air. They talked about how silly a recent online trend that Liang Ru was completely obsessed with was, and then they shared funny stories from their college days that made them feel like they were far away from his current, overwhelming reality. Zhang Ming's easygoing humor and surprisingly sharp insights into human nature often added a much-needed dose of humor. Kang Hao, on the other hand, was always the thoughtful one. He offered quiet, sharp insights that helped Liang Chen see things from a different angle, even if they weren't directly related to his problems at the time. This wasn't about finding answers; it was about the simple, deep act of really relaxing with friends who saw him, not just the CEO. As the night went on and the real moonlight bathed the gardens in its silvery glow, Liang Chen felt a vital part of himself slowly come back to life, gently restored and ready to face the demanding dawn once more.