Business tycoon Chen Liao breathed his last on a cold hospital bed.
He had amassed a fortune beyond measure, yet everyone had turned against him. In his final moments, all he could see in his mind were images of his wife and daughter from years ago. It was 1970, and in a fit of helpless rage, he had raised his fist against his wife, Lin Xiuwan, frightening their three-year-old daughter, Duoduo, into trembling in a corner. Later, Xiuwan went mad, and Duoduo was left alone and helpless. That was the fire of regret he could never put out.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw a tar-paper roof and peeling mud walls.
It was the evening of that nightmare in 1970. He looked at his own young, calloused hands. Next door, his daughter stifled her sobs while his wife choked back a despairing cry.
Chen Liao trembled all over, not with anger, but with joy and anguish intertwined.
This time, he wanted no vast riches. All he wanted was for them to be safe and happy.
The business opportunities and pulse of the times that lay ahead would no longer fuel his ambition. They would be the armor he used to protect them.
It would start with a bowl of steamed egg custard that she could eat too, and a night when she no longer had to live in fear…
Little by little, he would gently piece back together the world he had once shattered with his own hands.
