Chapter Thirty-One: The Enchanted Forest

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After struggling and striving for most of his life, he had finally become the CEO of a company worth more than a billion. Yet, just past his fiftieth birthday, Zhang Yao discovered he had liver cancer. Looking back on his life, Zhang Yao was filled with deep unwillingness. But what could that change? Cancer—the curse no one in the world today can break, and his was already in its late stage. Now, Zhang Yao had undergone chemotherapy three times, and with each session, his body grew weaker. By all rights, he should have been resting and recuperating, but the company simply couldn’t function without him.

As for his only daughter, she wasted her days on pleasure and extravagance. Handing the company over to her would only lead to its ruin. Zhang Yao had quarreled fiercely with her over this, not just once. To have built a fortune from scratch to over a billion before turning fifty, Zhang Yao’s character was unyielding. That’s why, in the two weeks after his last argument with his daughter, he reached out to his eldest brother, whom he hadn’t seen in many years.

Who hasn’t been reckless in their youth? Because of that, he and his brother had parted on bad terms decades ago. Over all these years, he’d never reached out first, and his brother hadn’t contacted him either. At heart, both carried a knot they couldn’t untie. But now, Zhang Yao had come to terms with it. After all, death was near—he couldn’t let the empire he’d built be destroyed along with him.

So, he contacted his brother and called his nephew, who was still at university. Though he was estranged from his brother, he’d always liked his nephew, who was preparing for graduate school. Over the years, Zhang Yao had often visited his nephew, trying to grow closer. At the end of the day, it was his disappointment in his daughter—especially in how she changed boyfriends as often as clothes—that drove him. Better to hand his legacy to a nephew who understood propriety and the art of getting things done, than see it rot in his daughter’s hands.

That way, his wife and daughter could still enjoy a prosperous life from their share of the company after he was gone. His wife supported him in this, for they both knew their daughter could not be relied upon. Zhang Yao had hoped to live at least three more years, enough to let his nephew gradually take control. But now, another glimmer of hope had appeared—the two-hour-long video.

Oak trees, the Black Domain, floral scents, the Purple Moon, divine revelations, the bizarre giant crocodile—everything in the video upended his understanding of the world. Yet, at the same time, the video offered him the hope of survival he had dreamed of. Two hours later, after watching every detail, Zhang Yao took a deep breath.

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The video was a compilation of many different clips, seamlessly pieced together. Yet it was overwhelmingly authentic, with countless details impossible to fake with special effects. Some of the conversations left him with a crystal-clear understanding of the world’s true state.

After a moment of silence, Zhang Yao looked intently at the man in the suit sitting across from him. “If the contents of this video are real, I doubt I’m qualified to receive it. So, tell me—what is your true purpose?”

“You are indeed a perceptive man, Mr. Zhang,” the suited man replied with a smile, standing up. “It’s true, I have another purpose for coming here. But as I said, our company values integrity above all, and we would never force you to do anything. However…” As he spoke, the man reached into the inside pocket of his suit and handed Zhang Yao a black card with both hands.

“What is this?” Zhang Yao frowned.

“An invitation. We invite you to join our organization,” the man replied without preamble. “This is a ticket—nothing more, nothing less. Everything is for the sake of facing the upheavals that may lie ahead. If you agree to join us, I can share much more with you. What is your decision?”

The man smiled, but his tone made it clear he was confident of Zhang Yao’s answer. Faced with the invitation, Zhang Yao found himself unable to refuse. For a dying man, this was exactly what he needed.

Why had the man invited him? Did he not know about his terminal cancer? Was that possible? The implication was unmistakable, and Zhang Yao truly could not refuse. He hesitated only a moment before meeting the man’s gaze and accepting the black card.

“Excellent. I knew I chose well!”

“Welcome to the Mystical Forest, Mr. Zhang,” the man said, beaming as he reached out to shake Zhang Yao’s hand.

“Mystical Forest?” Zhang Yao repeated, puzzled. Was that really the name of this secretive organization? It sounded almost lacking in grandeur. But the man seemed unaware of Zhang Yao’s thoughts and, instead, grew excited as he continued, “Yes, the Mystical Forest was founded and organized by Ms. Fanny Campbell. Many of the people you’ve seen in recent news—those household names—are members as well.”

“What?” Zhang Yao was taken aback. He had wondered how the man’s company had gained access to such complete and valuable footage. Now, at last, everything was clear.

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No wonder the man before him could act with such confidence—he’d had Zhang Yao in the palm of his hand from the very start. But what about his cancer? With that thought, Zhang Yao suppressed his excitement and spoke as calmly as he could: “If that’s the case, Mr. Zheng, you must know everything about me—my cancer as well?”

Hearing him, Zheng Hairui simply smiled and waved his hand. “Cancer? That’s a trivial matter, barely worth mentioning.”

“Barely worth mentioning?”

Zhang Yao fell silent. He thought of the days when despair had consumed him because of his illness, and now, to hear it dismissed as insignificant… He could hardly describe how he felt.

Seeing Zhang Yao’s silence, Zheng Hairui assumed he still had doubts. He took out a USB drive and handed it to Zhang Yao. “I understand your skepticism, Mr. Zhang. But rather than tell you more, perhaps this will explain everything.”

Zhang Yao was speechless for a moment as he took the USB drive and plugged it into his computer. Immediately, a torrent of images and videos filled the screen. The files documented countless cases of cancer recovery, mentioning a miraculous remedy—the mistletoe growing on the oak tree. They also detailed how Fanny Campbell’s team had obtained six mistletoe plants and three oak leaves beneath that extraordinary tree.

After half an hour of rapid reading, Zhang Yao finally looked up, still feeling as if he were in a dream.

He stood and walked to the glass wall, gazing out over the tranquil sea and the bustling harbor beyond. Who could guess, beneath this calm and prosperity, that the world was already churning with unseen storms?

When Zhang Yao turned back to Zheng Hairui, his spirit seemed instantly restored.

“Joining the Mystical Forest may be the wisest choice I’ve made in my life.”

“It’s not a possibility—it’s a certainty.”