A plane landed on a small island in the central Pacific. Zhong Yun and Yun Qi disembarked, and a group of people in white coats was already waiting.

One of the greatest benefits of being a person of privilege was the ability to marshal vast resources for one's own service. These doctors were the most distinguished physicians brought over from the Galactic Empire. This island had been transformed into a base that transcended the era, stacked high with advanced equipment sourced from billions of light-years away within the Empire.

All of this had been accomplished in under a month, requiring the full effort of hundreds of thousands of people and the expenditure of immeasurable resources. It was erected under the sole will of Zhong Yun, and all of it was merely to conduct a physical examination for two ordinary elderly people.

The simplest method would have been to transport the elders out into space, aboard the Mercury, for the check-up. But Zhong Yun dismissed the idea without a second thought.

Firstly, he feared their bodies could not withstand it. Although the Galactic Empire’s aerospace technology was highly mature, traveling outside the atmosphere placed a significant burden on the human body. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Secondly, he worried about frightening them. Air travel was one thing; it was becoming increasingly common, accessible to ordinary folk, and thus unremarkable. But spacecraft—only billionaires could afford them. What explanation could he offer once they were in outer space?

Thus, with a single command, he orchestrated the purchase and internal transformation of the island at immense cost, all within the shortest possible timeframe and without alerting Earth's major powers.

Surrounded by an entourage, the Zhong family walked toward a warehouse door at the end of the airstrip.

“Where is this?” Looking at the metallic corridor straight out of a sci-fi film, even the most oblivious elder knew this was no ordinary place. The word "Confidential" was scrawled everywhere.

“This is a laboratory belonging to a friend of mine; I borrowed it. It’s nothing,” Yun Qi explained. When the words came from Yun Qi, they carried considerably more weight.

Zhong Yun remained their son. Their impression of him largely lingered from before his disappearance. His words would thus be discounted in their minds.

Indeed, the anxious look on the elders' faces lessened somewhat. Still, the Elder Father remarked, “Was such a grand reception necessary? My health is actually quite good.”

“Mom, you’re here, so let’s just get it checked. Yun Qi worked hard to borrow this place; we might not get another chance. Don’t refuse. Yun Qi will be sad,” Zhong Yun cajoled them, as if speaking to a child.

By the time he finished speaking, they had arrived. Zhong Yun paused at the threshold. “Dad, Mom, please go in. I’ll wait out here for you.” He gave the lead doctor a meaningful glance, and the doctor gently guided the elders inside.

When his mother turned back to look, Zhong Yun smiled and waved, “Don’t worry.”

The door closed. Zhong Yun finally let out a breath of relief, sinking into a nearby chair next to Yun Qi to wait.

“Your Majesties.”

Just then, a sharp, capable young woman approached and performed a crisp salute. Her name was Zhong Wen; she captained one of his three 'Boy Scout' units and currently oversaw affairs on Earth.

Zhong Yun frowned slightly. “Here, you must call us B. Pass that order down. From now on, everyone will use that designation.”

“Yes, B.”

“What is it?” Zhong Yun finally asked.

“Reporting on the large-scale operations of the past period: certain departments within various nations have begun to notice our activities…”

Zhong Yun waved a hand, cutting her off. “You will handle these matters yourself from now on. Remember, slow infiltration via economic means. I don't need to teach you this. In short, do not cause any social upheaval whatsoever; stability must be the prerequisite. It doesn’t matter if it takes longer. Do you understand?”

“Understood.” The woman snapped to attention as if by reflex.

“Good. You may go.”

Zhong Yun never directly interfered with these matters; professional tasks must be delegated to professionals. Otherwise, his subordinates would become mere decorations. He only needed to oversee the broad direction.

The entire examination took over two hours. Every data point recorded was relayed to Zhong Yun.

Overall, the elders’ health trended toward robustness, better than many younger people—a credit to Zhong Yun’s superior elixirs. However, certain chronic conditions were deeply entrenched: Elder Father’s diabetes and cerebral thrombosis, Elder Mother’s hypertension, and so forth.

These required gradual conditioning. The doctors quickly drew up two comprehensive treatment plans.

Hearing that his parents were fundamentally sound, Zhong Yun’s mood lifted immensely. All his worries evaporated. With time for recovery, he was confident it wouldn't be long before the elders were free of their ailments and fully restored.

Urged on by Elder Father, Zhong Yun and his party departed the island by plane that same day, returning to Hong Kong. Accompanying them were four specialized nurses whose sole duty was to manage the elders’ recuperation.

Back in Hong Kong, because the elders were eager to return home, Zhong Yun didn't contest them and had already dispatched someone to secure the plane tickets. They arrived home before nightfall.

Chen Yi and her daughter had been waiting and rushed out to meet the car upon hearing the engine. Seeing the long, luxurious Lincoln limousine, she froze. “Little Brother, what is this?”

“It’s rented,” Zhong Yun’s single sentence quelled her apprehension.

The four nurses prepared a meal in the kitchen quickly. Their duties extended beyond treatment; they were responsible for the elders’ daily lives. Nutrition was critically important for health, and they had to formulate a targeted menu personally.

The elders felt slightly awkward; neither was accustomed to being waited on.

“Dad, Mom, you’ve worked your whole lives; it’s time to enjoy yourselves. Sister doesn’t live here, and Yun Qi and I both have our work; we can’t be by your side often. Having them care for you puts our minds at ease,” Zhong Yun persuaded them gently.

“Little Brother is right. I’ve wanted to hire a helper for a long time, but I never found the right fit. You two old ones should enjoy the blessings your son provides,” Chen Yi chimed in supportively.

Seeing this filial piety from their children, the elders said no more, their gazes toward their son and daughter filled with profound satisfaction. They felt that a lifetime of toil had been worthwhile.

“Brother-in-law’s company issue resolved?” After dinner, Zhong Yun pulled Chen Yi into a room and asked.

Chen Yi shook her head, a shadow of worry crossing her face. “The new game, while not a total failure, had only mediocre reception. I’m afraid…”

Zhong Yun paused in thought. “Jinghui Company is the heart and soul of you and Sister; it absolutely cannot fall into someone else’s hands. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“The only way is to acquire another eleven percent of the shares and secure controlling interest.”

From her expression, Zhong Yun already guessed the core problem. “Are you short on funds?”

Chen Yi nodded. “One shareholder is willing to sell his stake, but his condition is that we buy all of his shares.”

“How much?”

“Thirteen percent, and he’s asking for fifteen billion,” Chen Yi said, clearly indignant.

Zhong Yun understood her frustration. At its peak, Jinghui Company's market capitalization was only around ten billion. But that was merely an estimate. After several blockbuster game failures, Jinghui’s valuation had shrunk—though being unlisted made precise calculation difficult. The shareholder was exploiting Chen Xiang’s vulnerability; to save the company, he knew his brother-in-law would pay any price, hence the exorbitant demand.

However, what struck Zhong Yun as odd was that his brother-in-law, as the company's founder, couldn't secure the support of even one shareholder. That was peculiar.

He had studied Jinghui’s shareholder structure: among the ten holders, Chen Xiang was the largest, holding forty percent with his sister. The second largest held twenty percent, the third thirteen percent, another held ten percent, and the remaining seventeen percent was split among five others. For the brother-in-law to have driven all shareholders into opposition, leading to this betrayal, he must have seriously offended them over time. Moreover, the recent string of strategic errors directly fueled the shareholders’ revolt.

“If a problem can be solved with money, it’s not a problem,” Zhong Yun smiled. “How much is still needed?”

“I’ve saved some money over the years, but there’s still a five-billion shortfall,” Chen Yi admitted hesitantly. She had already put forth everything she had, excluding her daughter’s education fund and her parents’ retirement savings. Still, she wasn't certain her little brother could produce that amount; five billion was no small sum for anyone.

Zhong Yun pondered for a moment. “How about this: I will cover all the money. Wait, before you speak,” he quickly stopped her, “Listen to me. My funds are all overseas, and transferring them domestically is cumbersome. Therefore, this must be done under the company’s name. Consider it a formal investment into Jinghui Company. What do you think?”

Chen Yi was overjoyed. “That would be perfect. I’ll call your brother-in-law right now.” She pulled out her phone and walked out of the room.

Zhong Yun also retrieved his communicator and informed Zhong Wen about the planned acquisition of Jinghui Company shares. The mainland was a key focus of his strategy, and Zhong Wen had already used various channels to secure control of several companies; operating through them would be ideal.

Just as he set down the communicator, Chen Yi pushed the door open and returned. “Your brother-in-law has agreed.”

“Mm.” Zhong Yun produced a business card. “This is the head of our Asia-Pacific region. Have your brother-in-law contact her.”

“Qiyun Group, CEO, Zhong Wen.” Chen Yi read the card aloud, looking at her brother with intensity. “Qiyun Group?”

“It’s normal if you haven't heard of it; we’ve kept a very low profile. And we’ve only just begun operations domestically,” Zhong Yun explained.

“Qiyun, Yun Qi.” She repeated the two names twice, then grew serious. “Tell me honestly, what exactly is your wife?”

“You just said it—she is your sister-in-law. Regardless of who she is, you only need to remember that fact.” Zhong Yun stood up and walked out the door.

Chen Yi paused, then tucked the business card into her pocket.