Huaxing Trading.

In the office, the laid-back boss, Li Changfeng, was reviewing Chen Yinuo's resume, trying to find a suitable promotion opportunity for her.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

"Did you send the car for inspection?" Li Changfeng asked, glancing at the caller ID.

"Boss Li, something happened!" The voice on the other end hesitated, struggling to get the words out.

"What? Something happened?" Li Changfeng sprang from his chair, his expression instantly changing.

"Boss Li, the brakes failed! The car hit a taxi that changed lanes without signaling and then rear-ended a few other private cars. We're now on the South China Expressway, waiting for the traffic police to arrive!" The voice stammered nervously.

Li Changfeng felt like he'd been struck by lightning.

Ye Chen's words from earlier, spoken outside the Champs-Élysées, echoed relentlessly in his mind.

"Boss Li? Boss Li?" The voice on the other end grew increasingly anxious when they didn't hear a response.

"How's everyone? Is anyone hurt?" Li Changfeng finally snapped back, his face pale as he asked urgently.

"Boss Li, everyone's fine. Xiao Wang and I just bumped our foreheads a bit—nothing serious. The taxi didn't have any passengers, and the airbag protected the driver. As for the private cars we hit, no one was hurt—just vehicle damage," the voice replied.

"What speed were you driving at?" Li Changfeng pressed.

"Boss Li... I..." The caller hesitated before finally confessing, "Boss Li, thank goodness for Xiao Wang. You'd repeatedly told me to drive slowly, but I thought it was a new car and shouldn't have any issues. On the South China Expressway, I initially pushed the speed to 100, but Xiao Wang kept reminding me, so I slowed to 60. That's when the taxi suddenly changed lanes without signaling. I hit the brakes, but they didn't respond!"

In the office, cold sweat drenched Li Changfeng's back.

The South China Expressway was his daily route, notorious for its frequent heavy truck traffic. He rarely drove below 100 kilometers per hour on that road.

If not for Ye Chen's earlier warning, and if Zhang Jingshan hadn't dragged him into the Porsche after believing Ye Chen's seemingly superstitious words, he would have driven his Ferrari as usual.

If there had been no traffic jams, he'd have been going at least 100 kilometers per hour.

On a road with frequent heavy trucks, what would happen if the brakes failed at that speed?

Li Changfeng dared not imagine. Even now, in the safety of his office, he felt as though he'd just returned from the gates of hell.

"Boss Li? Boss Li?" The caller, still at the accident scene, called out again.

"As long as no one's hurt, don't panic. Everything else is manageable. Wait there. I'm coming over to handle this!" Li Changfeng said, snapping back to reality.

"Okay, okay, Boss Li. Thank you, Boss Li!"

The relieved caller was on the verge of tears, having expected a harsh reprimand. Although the brake failure wasn't his fault, he'd been driving a car worth two to three million yuan. The damage alone was enough to make him panic.

In the office, Li Changfeng collapsed into his chair, still feeling the lingering fear of a near-death experience. After catching his breath, he picked up his phone and called Zhang Jingshan.

"Old Zhang, what's up?" Zhang Jingshan answered.

"Come to my company. We need to head to the South China Expressway together!" Li Changfeng said urgently.

"What's going on?" Zhang Jingshan felt a jolt of unease.

"My Ferrari got into an accident. On the way to the inspection, the brakes failed and caused a rear-end collision!"

"Damn, what? Ye Chen was right? How bad is it?"

"By sheer luck, I told them to drive slowly. At the time of the collision, the speed was 60. No one was hurt. Hurry over!" Li Changfeng said.

"Got it, got it. I'm on my way!"

As the call ended, Li Changfeng sat there, still dazed, his mouth dry. He muttered to himself, "First, Ye Chen foresaw Old Zhang being set up. Then, he predicted my car accident. Both happened within two hours..."

"Ye Chen... Who are you, really? A seer? A prophet?"

"This time, it's not just a debt of gratitude—it's a debt of life."

In the rental apartment.

Ye Chen, fresh from his return from the Champs-Élysées, was unaware that his warning to Li Changfeng had already come true.

After taking a shower, he sat on the sofa, smoking a cigarette as he pondered his plans for the future.

Regrettably, in his past life, he had no interest in lotteries. Even during his gambling days, he never bought lottery tickets. Otherwise, with his memories, he could have become the richest man alive just by playing the lottery—provided the system didn't interfere or suspect him for clearing out the prize pools every now and then.

That said, Ye Chen knew the lottery route wasn't viable, nor did he intend to build his financial empire that way.

Yes, an empire.

In this life, Ye Chen wasn't just determined to repair his relationship with his wife and make amends to her. He was also committed to building a commercial empire that would bring everlasting glory to his wife and daughter.

In his previous life, his personal wealth had peaked at 400 billion yuan before his death.

This time, 400 billion wouldn't even come close to satisfying him.

With his foresight into the next 60 years, anything less than a tenfold increase in that figure would feel like a waste of his second chance.

Building an empire, however, couldn't happen overnight.

His immediate priority was to earn his wife, Chen Yinuo's, forgiveness and erase the harm he'd inflicted upon her.

After finishing his cigarettes, he headed to the mall's computer store.

Using the 30,000 yuan left in his WeChat account, he bought two brand-new high-performance computers.

One was for Yinuo—since he'd secretly sold her laptop last month.

The other was for himself, to facilitate his research and next steps.

Specifically, the development of Flawless Ointment.

This remarkable ointment could rapidly fade scars and skin discoloration.

In his past life, Flawless Ointment had been instrumental in propelling Ye Chen to the status of a billionaire.

It was this unique formula and the global craze for the ointment that had allowed him to amass wealth, expand into various industries, and sustain a 400-billion-yuan empire without ever going public.

At the moment, however, Ye Chen wasn't looking that far ahead. His immediate goal was to recreate the ointment and heal the scars he had left on Yinuo.

Back in his rental apartment, Ye Chen sat down at his computer and began typing furiously, recalling the Flawless Ointment formula from memory.

He searched for suppliers for the ingredients, knowing that in his previous life, the ointment hadn't been developed until he was nearly 40.

Now, ten years earlier, he couldn't rely on the same supply chains. He would have to track down each ingredient online.