The country entrusted me to buy an aircraft carrier, Hou Liangping, do you dare to investigate?

Her smile was so innocent, as if there were no worries or troubles in the world. Huang Feipeng stared at her blankly for a long time, until her mother called her home, before he came back to his senses.

"Want to go take a look?" a customer in the shop suddenly asked, his eyes carrying a hint of a joke.

Huang Feipeng was taken aback, then smiled and asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Go and see what your own future holds." The guest's words seemed to carry a deeper meaning.

Huang Feipeng's heart skipped a beat, but he quickly relaxed. He nodded to the guest, smiled politely, and then turned back to his work. Although his words carried a slightly teasing tone, they stirred a ripple in Huang Feipeng's heart.

"The future?" he murmured to himself. "I've never thought about it."

Yes, the future. Huang Feipeng knows that he can no longer chase those unattainable goals, but he has never stopped thinking. He no longer blindly pursues anything, but has learned to reconcile with himself as he is now, and to find some meaning in ordinary life.

However, this doesn't mean he'll stop. He still knows the shadow behind him has never truly left, and his and his wife's future remains uncertain. But at this moment, standing in this small barbecue restaurant, Huang Feipeng still feels a sense of peace he's never felt before.

He stood in the kitchen, calmly grilling each skewer of food. Occasionally, a few customers would greet him, and he would politely respond. Although the shop seemed ordinary, he knew that this simple space was enough for him to temporarily set aside the burdens he had carried for so long and find a moment of peace.

Huang Feipeng stood in the kitchen of the barbecue restaurant, his fingers gripping the metal skewers tightly, a surge of irritation rising within him. He had been trying to remain calm, trying to forget those unpleasant memories, but today, he found himself unable to suppress his anger any longer.

"What's wrong?" His wife's voice came from the doorway, tinged with anxiety, interrupting his thoughts.

Huang Feipeng didn't turn around. He raised his head and looked out at the street through the small window. The street was bustling with traffic and dimly lit, yet it still made him feel extremely oppressed. This place had once been where he sought peace, but now it had become the source of his anger.

"It's nothing," he replied coldly, his voice low.

"Huang Feipeng, stop bottling it up. What's wrong?" His wife walked into the kitchen, her voice tinged with reproach. She sensed something was wrong with him.

Huang Feipeng took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. He knew that such emotions would hurt her, but the anger in his heart was like a flame that had been suppressed for too long; once ignited, it could never be quelled.

“You know, today a customer…” His voice suddenly became even lower, as if he was swallowing the flames of anger, “He actually said to my face that my shop is nothing but a joke.”

His wife was taken aback, clearly not expecting Huang Feipeng's anger to erupt so suddenly. She sighed softly, walked behind Huang Feipeng, and patted him on the shoulder.

“He’s just a guest, don’t worry about him,” she reassured him.

"Take it to heart? How could I not take it to heart!" Huang Feipeng finally lost control of his emotions, his voice rising several decibels. "Do you know what he thinks of me? He said this shop is a small workshop, without even a decent renovation, it's a complete waste of my talent!"

Huang Feipeng's chest heaved violently. He wanted to smash the iron skewer in his hand, but ultimately chose to keep his arm stiff in place, trying not to appear too angry. He didn't look at his wife; his gaze was fixed on the fire in the stove, the resentment in his heart almost suffocating him.

His wife stood quietly behind him, a hint of sorrow on her face. She understood Huang Feipeng's feelings. Although the shop wasn't particularly successful, for Huang Feipeng, it was more than just a livelihood; it was proof of a fresh start. He had spent too much time proving himself, trying to escape the shadows of the past, but those wounds could never truly heal.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” His wife’s voice was gentle yet firm. She walked to Huang Feipeng’s side and gently took his hand. “But you can’t let yourself lose your way because of someone else’s opinion. You opened this shop to live an ordinary life, not to be criticized by others.”

Huang Feipeng's eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to look at his wife, a complex emotion flickering in his gaze. His wife's comfort, though warm, couldn't truly quell his anger. He knew she cared for him, but she didn't understand his inner turmoil. He had once thought he could find peace at this barbecue restaurant, but reality always seemed to disappoint him.

“I’ve worked so hard for so long, but they only see the surface,” Huang Feipeng said in a low voice, his gaze heavy. “They have no idea how much I want to change all of this. I don’t need their approval, but I want to live like a real man, instead of hiding in this inconspicuous little shop and eking out a living.”

Huang Feipeng's voice gradually choked with emotion. He rarely confided his vulnerability to his wife like this, because he knew that as a man, he shouldn't have such feelings. But today, this long-suppressed anger suddenly erupted, like a flood, sweeping away his reason and emotions.

His wife didn't say anything more. She simply held Huang Feipeng's hand tightly and leaned gently on his shoulder. She knew that Huang Feipeng didn't need her advice at the moment; he needed time to process his emotions.

A few seconds of silence fell over the kitchen as Huang Feipeng's emotions gradually calmed down. He took a deep breath, gripped the skewer in his hand again, and although the fire in his heart hadn't been completely extinguished, it was at least no longer so intense. He slowly began to speak: "I just feel like I'm always being looked down upon and ignored. Even though I've let go of a lot, I still can't escape the shadows of the past."

His wife patted his back gently, her voice soft yet firm: "You don't need to prove anything, Huang Feipeng. You've already done very well."

These words were like a soothing balm, slowly taking effect deep within Huang Feipeng's heart. His initial agitation was gradually replaced by calm. He looked up at his wife, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice low.

"You will always be my hero. No matter what others think of you, I will always believe in you." His wife smiled gently, her eyes shining with tenderness.

Huang Feipeng took a deep breath and finally let go of his anger. He knew that life wouldn't always be smooth sailing, and that external opinions wouldn't always be positive.