The medical glory of Vienna had not completely dissipated yet, and after Gu Yu handled the matters of the energy factory handed over by Chen Tian in Kuwait, he boarded the flight back home.
When the plane landed at Pudong International Airport, Modu was basking in the bright sunshine of early summer afternoon.
Gu Yu didn't go directly to the company, nor did he head home first; instead, he directed the taxi to a quiet private clubhouse in the suburbs.
Chen Tian had been waiting there for some time, sitting at the front of a window-side tea table, with a set of antique purple clay tea ware in front of him. In the curling aroma of tea, the old man's back seemed thinner than a few months ago, but his eyes were exceptionally bright.
"Uncle Chen."
Gu Yu walked over and sat down opposite him.
"You're back? Good, good!"
