Wang Zhuo’s long-standing knot in his heart was his mother remarrying. Though everyone eventually needed to live their own lives, and it was entirely understandable that his mother chose happiness for herself, Wang Zhuo remained deeply unsettled by the matter. Especially since, after remarrying, his mother never returned to see him once, nor did she invite him to stay with her during winter or summer breaks. Gradually, Wang Zhuo grew cold. Since she treated the regular payment of child support as a mere obligation, Wang Zhuo severed that thread of familial attachment.

But blood is thicker than water, after all. Even though he deliberately pushed this kinship to the back of his mind, upon hearing that his mother was experiencing financial difficulties recently, Wang Zhuo immediately offered assistance—a full ten million US dollars.

The news came from Wang Zhuo’s paternal aunt. She and Wang Zhuo’s mother had maintained a decent sister-in-law relationship back then, and they had kept in touch over the years. Even if they didn't meet face-to-face, they would occasionally exchange calls or online greetings, keeping each other informed of their situations.

When Wang Zhuo first arrived in Jiangzhou, he was hardly destitute. His mother was in Jiangzhou at the time, but they never met. Just as Wang Zhuo was setting up his business and becoming an owner, his mother suddenly immigrated to America. The two never saw each other again.

Wang Zhuo admitted that his mother’s maternal love was somewhat faint, though this didn't negate the profound bond of their shared blood. However, during his most difficult years, she offered only financial support without any expression of familial warmth. Coupled with his rebellious adolescence and the heavy burden of life, years of youthful resentment led the mother and son to a state where neither acknowledged the other.

Regarding his stepfather, Wang Zhuo always referred to him only as "that man." He suspected that if it weren't for this person meddling, the relationship between mother and son wouldn't have grown so distant and strained; thus, he despised the man.

When Wang Zhengdao mentioned that "that man" was devoted and not a womanizer toward his mother, Wang Zhuo coldly scoffed, saying, "What good is devotion? A man who can’t even support his own wife—what good is his faithfulness? If I hadn't paid up, that whole family would probably be sleeping on the streets by now..."

"In life, who doesn't have their ups and downs?" Wang Zhengdao said with a wry smile. "Just think of him as your mother’s housekeeper or servant. Your mother holds the money you gave her; she’s the financial pillar of their household. Won’t he have to watch her face from now on?"

"He got off easy," Wang Zhuo pouted.

"Ten million—isn't that pocket change for you?" Wang Zhengdao chuckled, adding, "No matter what, she’s still your mother. It’s right for you to show filial respect. With this money, your mother is practically a minor tycoon. Even if America is richer than us, this kind of wealth still puts her in the middle class—enough to buy a detached villa with a swimming pool in the back and a garden in the front, plus two cars. They can live the life of the wealthy." Such things could be managed with three to five million dollars, Wang Zhuo shrugged. "Yeah, a lot more carefree than our lives back home..."

"This way, your sister benefits too..." Wang Zhengdao stopped mid-sentence as Wang Zhuo raised a hand to interrupt him. "Wait a minute. That’s not my sister. She shares no blood relation with me..."

The daughter born from the stepfather’s previous marriage naturally shared no blood ties with Wang Zhuo. Wang Zhuo had never even seen a photograph of her and certainly wouldn't acknowledge her as a sister.

Wang Zhengdao wasn't annoyed, smiling faintly as he said, "Regardless, she will be the one looking after your mother in the future. No matter their relationship, for the sake of the money, at least."

"Let’s drop this; it’s boring..." Wang Zhuo waved his hand. "Didn't you say you needed to compensate your wife? I think there’s no need for that now. Keep the money you earned for yourself."

Wang Zhengdao chuckled noncommittally and then dropped a bombshell: "Son, what would you think if I remarried?"

Wang Zhuo glanced at him and said with a forced, artificial smile, "Do as you please, but let me state upfront: I won't be providing the 'call her Mom' service..."

This wasn't just him being unreasonable. Since gaining fame, Wang Zhengdao had been constantly embroiled in scandals within his circles. The man was inherently charismatic and prone to philandering; now that he was a prominent figure, he was even more so. As far as Wang Zhuo knew, he had questionable relationships with several young, beautiful actresses.

This information had come through Ning Yao. Ning Yao wasn't the type to gossip, so if even she mentioned it, it was likely true. If Wang Zhengdao were to marry one of those actresses, how could Wang Zhuo call a woman his own age 'Mom'?

"Then, if I immigrated, would you support it?" Wang Zhengdao tried again. "Changing nationality might be good." Wang Zhuo joked back, "It’s best if you choose a country that allows polygamy; that would suit you better..."

Wang Zhengdao let out a dry chuckle and actually nodded. Seeing his expression, Wang Zhuo was stunned—did this guy actually have such an idea in mind?

It was rumored that the aunt and her daughter, Qianqian, had been invited for a trip to the States and had already received their invitations, planning to leave during Qianqian’s winter break.

Wang Zhuo made no comment on this, but he held a certain anticipation, hoping to see photos brought back to gauge what his long-unseen mother looked like now, and what the state of her life was.

As he matured with age, Wang Zhuo had come to terms with past grievances. However, he hadn't quite figured out how he would face his mother’s family in the future.

On the weekend, Wang Zhuo was invited again to Qin Xuejia’s residence for dinner—an honor many envied and were jealous of.

Since that time he shared a deeply ambiguous intimacy with Qin Siqing, he hadn’t brought a female companion to the Qin house again. Although Miss Qin was gentle, well-behaved, and sensible, her pride and reserve were ingrained deep within her character. Wang Zhuo attended the banquet alone to preserve her dignity.

Qin Xue seemed to be in a good mood today. He unusually finished half a bowl more rice during the meal. Afterwards, while sipping tea, he began inquiring about the recent progress of Wang Zhuo’s project.

"The biggest issue right now is raw materials," Wang Zhuo stated with complete seriousness. "In terms of processing techniques, our experts have analyzed it: as long as money isn't an issue, equipment won't be the bottleneck for production capacity. However, the primary raw material is needed in vast quantities and is very likely to constrain output."

"What material?" Qin Xue asked with concern.

Given his status and position, few issues warranted such deep concern from him. But this wasn't a small, insignificant project; its prospects even made his own heart race. One could foresee that in the near future, this would become a massive venture with an annual output value in the hundreds of billions. The annual taxes and revenue alone would make government departments rejoice.

"A type of marine algae," Wang Zhuo said with a slight grin. "The Japanese were the first to discover its usefulness, but they only achieved very minute therapeutic effects and gave up after a period of in-depth study."

"Can it be cultivated artificially?" Qin Xue cut straight to the core of the matter.

"Of course, it can, but the cost is quite high," Wang Zhuo shrugged. "So, until we find a substitute for this raw material, we cannot fully unleash production capacity. It will remain exclusive to the wealthy for now..."

All national leaders are figures of comprehensive ability; their resumes show experience in government and party work, as well as leadership roles in enterprises or educational institutions. Qin Xue was no exception. Therefore, he not only understood what Wang Zhuo was talking about but was also intimately familiar with the subject.

As early as 1998, Dongbao Pharmaceutical in Tonghua City, Jilin Province, successfully developed China’s first genetically engineered human insulin, making China the third country globally, after the US and Denmark, capable of producing and marketing recombinant human insulin.

Yet, it wasn't until ten years later, in 2008, that the project’s Phase II construction was completed and put into operation. This wasn't due to a lack of market size or capital flow; the limiting factor was naturally the raw material.

Constrained by cost and yield, the price of human insulin naturally soared—scarcity bred high value. Many diabetic patients require this medication, and even today, many cannot afford it.

"Capacity can be scaled up slowly; haste makes waste," Qin Xue said, clapping his hands together. "The key is to research a more convenient and cheaper substitute as early as possible; then, development can accelerate rapidly."

Wang Zhuo chuckled. "We have two research teams: one is looking for a substitute, and the other is studying chemical synthesis methods. If the latter succeeds, then we can produce as much as we want..."

Qin Xue nodded approvingly, about to speak when he suddenly frowned, leaning slightly forward.

Wang Zhuo paused, quickly taking him in with a look, noticing that he seemed to be feeling slightly unwell.

Seeing Wang Zhuo’s concerned gaze, Qin Xue smiled and shook his head. "I caught a chill these past couple of days; it’s nothing serious..."

A chill, stomach ache? Wang Zhuo nodded slightly, then turned to Qin Siqing. "Hurry, pour Uncle Qin a cup of hot water..."

Qin Siqing glanced at him, showing her displeasure with his manner, then stood up to get the water.

Observing Qin Xue, Wang Zhuo suddenly asked, "Uncle Qin, have you had this problem before?"

Qin Xue looked at him quizzically, thinking, It’s just a chill—who hasn't had one before?

"Yours... might not be as simple as a chill," Wang Zhuo reached out his hand. "Here, let me take your pulse."

Qin Xue was instantly caught between laughter and tears. This kid was addicted to playing the expert. He had managed to correctly diagnose his own father’s liver disease by sheer luck years ago, and now, out of the blue, he was targeting him!

"I don't have time for games," he chuckled, shaking his head, reaching for the remote control on the table, intending to turn up the volume on the news broadcast, which was about to start.

"How can this be mere games?" If Wang Zhuo had a flowing white goatee at this moment, he would look like a sanctimonious, old Chinese physician. He said with grave seriousness, "I am, after all, a student at a prestigious medical university, and a top student at that. Why wouldn't you trust science?"

"Can you represent science?" Qin Siqing returned with the cup of water and chimed in, seizing on the topic to tease him.

Wang Zhuo’s eyebrows shot up, and he declared proudly, "I wouldn't dare boast about that. But a doctor diagnosing an illness relies on inspection, listening/smelling, inquiry, and pulse-taking. Your father hasn't passed the first three checks..."