In the Years When I Was a Father-Chapter 146: The Villain Boss’s Prodigal Father (End)

Qi Ming’an majored in computer science, so once he stepped into the internet industry, he found himself more passionate and invested than he had ever been in other fields. Before long, his team had developed a desktop-based instant messaging software.
Shortly after its launch, with virtually no competitors in the social networking space, the user base began growing by tens of thousands daily. However, the rapid increase in users also meant a proportional spike in operational costs.
“Ming’an, if we can’t secure the next round of funding, this software might go under,” said Zhang Jingjun, who was in charge of operations. He had tried every trick in the book—even diverted profits from other projects into this one—but still couldn’t stop this money-burning endeavor from bleeding cash. Although the product had gained widespread user approval, the rapidly growing user base was swallowing their funds like a bottomless pit.
Qi Ming’an frowned as well. The entire leadership team had gathered. While they all feared a funding shortfall, none of them wanted to give up on the product they had the most faith in.
Ironically, despite several members of the leadership team having some level of government background—three out of five were children of officials—Qi Ming’an and another technical director were the exceptions. Still, with his fiancée likely to enter the public sector, his future wasn’t exactly free of such ties either. In normal times, their connections helped them get things done smoothly, but now they had become an obstacle.
The only viable option to ease their financial strain was external funding. Unfortunately, very few domestic investors were interested in them. There were two foreign companies that believed in their project, but four of the five team members were strongly opposed to taking overseas capital—unless absolutely necessary.
Around the roundtable, all five wore long faces. At that moment, Qi Ming’an broke the silence. “How much longer can our funds last?”
Zhang Jingjun had long done the math and answered, “At most three months. If we sell off our factory in the south, we could stretch it to six.”
Qi Ming’an nodded. “That’s enough. I still have some pocket money. With that, we should be able to hold on until the IPO.”
The other four: “…”
“Pocket money?”
They were stunned by how casually Qi Ming’an had said it. All of them were silently wondering—had the pressure finally scrambled this guy’s brains? Just how impressive was this so-called “pocket money”?
The most blunt of the group, Xu Bohong, gawked and asked, “May I ask… how much exactly is your pocket money?”
Qi Ming’an thought about the room full of antiques at home, shook his head, and said, “Not sure.”
The other four: “…”
Great. No doubt about it—this funding crisis had driven at least one of them crazy.
Seeing the same gloomy expressions on their faces, Qi Ming’an turned to Xu Bohong and asked, “Brother Hong, you know a lot of people—do you know any reliable auction houses?”
Xu Bohong was still busy sighing over their financial woes but reflexively asked, “What are you planning to auction?”
“Some antiques.”
Upon hearing the word “antiques”—and even more, “some antiques”—the group finally perked up. Xu Bohong couldn’t help asking, “Do you have a rough estimate of what they’re worth?”
By now, plenty of investors were turning their attention toward antiques. Many high-profile collections already had privately agreed-upon price floors. Xu Bohong knew this, which was why he asked for more details.
Qi Ming’an thought again about that room full of antiques. There were just too many. He honestly couldn’t remember them all…
So he replied, “Not sure.”
Hearing this, Xu Bohong’s brief flicker of hope instantly dimmed again. It probably wasn’t anything valuable, then. Must not be worth much.
Zhang Jingjun knew a bit about the antique market too. But desperate times called for desperate measures. He said, “Let’s go take a look. Even if we can scrape together a bit, it’s better than nothing.”
The five of them agreed. Qi Ming’an then informed Qi Sheng about the plan. Since the antiques were originally left as spending money for his son, Qi Sheng didn’t mind how he used them. He took the items back out from storage—except for the two famous paintings the Qi family had once collected. Those he chose not to include, at least for now.
But what they did have was already more than enough. Because the moment the other four men stepped into the room and saw the sheer number of collectibles, they didn’t even have time to assess their value— They were already completely floored by the volume alone.
Aside from the technical director Cheng Kai, who had absolutely no knowledge in this area, the other three had at least some exposure to antiques. What’s more, back when Qi Sheng was teaching his son about them, he had carefully labeled each item with its era and name.
So even though the four of them weren’t experts, they couldn’t help swallowing nervously when they saw dynasty names like Qingming, Song, and even earlier. Xu Bohong was already too stunned by the sheer wealth in the room to speak, and the other three weren’t any better.
After doing a rough walk-through, a slightly more composed Xu Bohong looked at Qi Ming’an with a dazed expression and said, “President Qi, I seriously—seriously—want to thank you for being willing to hang out with poor folks like us!”
Nothing’s more thrilling than suddenly realizing your buddy is a secretly rich tycoon.
Hong Zirui, who was usually the quietest among them, nodded in full agreement. Looking at Qi Ming’an, he said solemnly, “President Qi, I’m truly honored and grateful that you’d lower yourself to start a business with the likes of us.”
Qi Ming’an was amused by their antics and laughed. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen the world before.”
The other four: “…”
Sorry, we’ve seen plenty of big scenes, but not this kind!
Zhang Jingjun couldn’t help asking as he looked at the room full of treasures, “All this stuff—when did you start collecting it?” That must’ve cost a fortune!
Qi Ming’an shook his head. “I didn’t collect it. My dad did. Every time he had money, he liked to spend it. So he bought all of this.”
Hearing this, Xu Bohong blinked and nodded in awe. He glanced around and marveled, “Uncle Qi is the real deal. Now that’s what it means to quietly get rich.”
Zhang Jingjun nodded in agreement. “Uncle Qi’s a genius. If he ever decided to go into business, we’d probably be out of a job.”
Qi Ming’an laughed. “Nah, my dad was never interested in that.”
Hong Zirui couldn’t resist asking, “Then may I ask, what is Uncle Qi interested in?”
Qi Ming’an: “…”
Knowing all too well how laid-back his father was, Qi Ming’an gave Hong Zirui a wordless look, then stared him down with the full intensity of a rich man until he gave up and looked away. Only then did he say, “My dad doesn’t like being burdened by money.”
The four, who also knew perfectly well how lazy Qi Sheng was: “…”
Yep. You’re definitely Uncle Qi’s son—really know how to make him sound impressive.
Now that they had these antiques to fall back on, the four of them finally felt some peace of mind. Xu Bohong moved fast and began contacting trustworthy auction houses to test the waters with a few items.
Nowadays, there were plenty of collectors out there. The first batch of auctioned antiques quickly turned into cold hard cash. With liquidity restored, their tech company finally came back to life.
Four years later, one summer
The old courtyard home of the Qi family had been freshly renovated. It had long housed two people, but it would soon welcome a third. Qi Ming’an’s tech company had successfully gone public three years earlier, and now worth several billion, he could finally flaunt his wealth without restraint in front of Qi Sheng.
“Dad, here, take this credit card—spend it however you want!”
Qi Sheng took the card and, seeing his son’s proud expression, casually pointed to a spot on a map of Beijing. “I think this spot would be perfect for a resort. Can I buy this plot of land too?”
Qi Ming’an, still basking in his earlier bravado, looked at the map—only to see that Qi Sheng was pointing at a location on the Third Ring Road in Beijing. He suddenly wanted to take his words back. But he’d already said it, and he’d heard about that land before—it was a former abandoned factory. It shouldn’t be too hard to buy.
So, gritting his teeth to follow through on his first-ever “gift” to his dad, Qi Ming’an said, “Alright. I’ll take care of it for you in the next couple of days.”
Qi Sheng, pleased with his son’s filial piety, gave him a satisfied pat on the shoulder and happily headed out for a stroll. As soon as he left, Qi Ming’an, who had been pretending to look pained, broke into a smile. Investing in Beijing real estate, huh… actually, not a bad idea.
Qi Ming’an was always fast to act, and with the help of his well-connected friends, acquiring land was just a matter of processing some paperwork. But as he was completing the formalities, he unexpectedly ran into Sun Yuan—who was also there to register a property.
Qi Ming’an, who had almost forgotten about this woman, looked at the radiant smile on Sun Yuan’s face and her solitary figure. Thinking about the recent news regarding the Jiang family’s eldest son getting engaged, he shook his head. He would never understand how this woman’s mind worked.
Sun Yuan had also noticed Qi Ming’an. But she didn’t come over to say hello. She had just broken up with someone not long ago—successfully walked away with a generous breakup fee, and left that disgusting man looking worn out and still obsessed with her. Sun Yuan was in a great mood. She used all the money to invest in real estate. With her future now secure and the messy Jiang family behind her, she finally felt she’d gotten her revenge. But the moment she saw Qi Ming’an again, a flicker of guilt crept into her heart.
So she reined in her mood a bit, stayed seated until Qi Ming’an had left, and only then stood up again. Her smile returned as she watched the silhouette of his car fade into the distance. At last, she felt that everything from her past life was truly behind her—and that in this life, she no longer had anything to do with those people.
October 10th
The skies over Beijing were clear and crisp with autumn air. The beautiful weather mirrored Qi Ming’an’s mood—it was one of the most important days of his life.
Unlike many young people chasing trends with white dresses and church weddings, he and his bride had chosen a traditional Chinese wedding, drawing on the classic charm of the old courtyard home.
Qi Ming’an had specially commissioned a famous embroidery master from Suzhou to custom-make their wedding outfits and outfits for both sets of parents. He’d also spent a fortune crafting a dazzling phoenix coronet.
So on the wedding day, Song Xuan, practically wearing a mound of money on her head, thought she’d be receiving a big red envelope when she knelt to pay respects to Qi Sheng. But to her surprise, she was handed a long gift box instead. Qi Ming’an also received a similar box and looked just as puzzled. After toasting all the guests, the newlyweds snuck away to their room to enjoy some peace and quiet.
“What did Dad just give us? I thought we’d be getting a big red envelope today!”
“I don’t know either. Let’s open it and find out.” Qi Ming’an had been too young to remember these two scrolls, but judging by the shape, and with his familiarity with the antiques market, he had a hunch—could these be valuable pieces? But then again, he didn’t recall seeing these in his father’s collection.
Curious, the two of them ignored the noisy guests outside. They exchanged a glance and opened the boxes together.
Inside, two scrolls lay quietly against a bright yellow lining. The newlyweds gently unrolled them, inch by inch.
“Ping’an Tie?”
“Ge Zhichuan Moves to a New Home!”
“Ming’an, are these two ancient calligraphy paintings… worth a lot?”
Qi Ming’an looked at his wide-eyed, curious wife and replied, “They’re worth a lot. Over a hundred million, easily.”
Song Xuan swallowed hard. The two of them were stunned by Qi Sheng’s generosity. Song Xuan said, “Isn’t this a bit too valuable? Should I return it to Dad tomorrow?”
“No need. If he gave them to us, then they’re ours. Now I finally understand—Dad is the real rich one in our family. If it hadn’t been for his antique collection, we might’ve had to sell off our company shares back then.”
Song Xuan nodded in agreement. “Dad’s the definition of ‘quietly brilliant’—he doesn’t show off, but he’s miles ahead of us!”
The couple took turns praising Qi Sheng, and the next day, Qi Ming’an asked, impressed, “Dad, when did you collect these two paintings? I didn’t even know we had such priceless art in the house.”
Qi Sheng waved his hand with a smile. “These weren’t mine. They were hidden in the cellar by your grandfather. I just happened to be born lucky—that’s all. Actually, looking at things now, you’re the lucky one!”
Qi Ming’an: “…”
Can I take back everything I said yesterday about how amazing Dad is?
Once again defeated by Qi Sheng’s shamelessness, Qi Ming’an let out a helpless sigh on the outside—but inwardly, he agreed. He really was lucky. Otherwise, how could he have had such a great dad?