Ethan's official business, the aftermath of the explosion accident—everything was decided by David Thompson. He didn't even need to consult with Mrs. Carter; he could just inform her after handling it.

Mrs. Carter had no objections to this, clearly used to it.

Grace Sullivan's health improved day by day, and the time he spent chatting with Mrs. Carter increased accordingly. He spoke little, mostly listening, and took the opportunity to learn about the situation of the The Carter Family and the company.

Ethan is a technology company—computer software, hardware, system development—Grace Sullivan didn't understand any of it, but he silently memorized every term.

Mrs. Carter had saved many photos to show him, helping him recognize people: the two housekeepers at home, a driver, several close relatives, and the company's management, among others.

Anyone who had visited the hospital, even if only once, Grace Sullivan could match to a name.

Mrs. Carter was pleasantly surprised: "How come you lost your memory, but your recall has improved? When one door closes, another opens, huh?"

After identifying all the photos, Grace Sullivan realized he was missing someone in his memory and asked, "The first person I saw when I woke up—who was he?"

"Oh, his name is Samuel Bennett," Mrs. Carter replied. "The 'Xiang' from 'gongye xiang', 'Ming' from 'tomorrow', and 'Zhang' from 'article'."

Grace Sullivan silently repeated the name and asked, "Is he a relative or a friend?"

Mrs. Carter said, "It's hard to become relatives with the Xiang family. He's considered a friend; our grandfathers knew each other and were quite close. Sigh, it's a pity your father passed away early—our The Carter Family lost its former glory."

Grace Sullivan still remembered Samuel Bennett's arrogant attitude and said, "It seems the two families have grown distant."

"It's not that bad," Mrs. Carter saw things simply. "Although we've had less contact these years, that's just superficial. Samuel Bennett offered a good price when acquiring Ethan, which shows he valued the relationship—that's what matters."

Only then did Grace Sullivan learn that Brian Carter and Mrs. Carter had sold their shares together. In other words, the company founded by Mr. Carter no longer belonged to the The Carter Family.

He couldn't understand it.

The The Sullivan Family had run a money house since the Guangxu era, monopolizing twelve out of more than thirty major banks on Jiangxia Street in Ningbo. Later, when foreign capital flooded into China, his father Charles Sullivan advocated for reform in response to the times and went to Shanghai to establish a modern bank.

From a young age, Grace Sullivan had been influenced by this environment and already knew that business was about "management," about seeking development, and about succeeding through perseverance.

A single shop could expand into a pair, opening new territories; if one path was blocked, you found another. Every road could be made your own, and even in times of war, you strove to be at the forefront.

In the values he was taught, selling off the family business was a disgrace, a great failure, something to be laughed at.

His expression grew grave, and Mrs. Carter asked, "What's wrong?"

Grace Sullivan relaxed his brow slightly and replied, "It's nothing, just a bit of regret."

"Son, don't be ridiculous," Mrs. Carter said. "Back then, you insisted on selling, pestering me until I agreed, even threatening to kill yourself abroad if I didn't. And now you regret it!"

Grace Sullivan said helplessly, "Sorry."

Mrs. Carter immediately softened, her perspective broadening: "These years, Ethan hasn't been doing well. Selling it might be for the best. Henry Bennett is a top figure in the industry—maybe he can turn things around. And although Samuel Bennett seems polite and refined, he's actually very capable and well-connected. Let him worry about it in the future."

The image of Samuel Bennett's cold indifference flashed through Grace Sullivan's mind. So, has the twenty-first century redefined "polite and refined"?

He feared that Mr. Bennett had a shrewd mind and was just used to playing the big bad wolf.

After fully recovering, Grace Sullivan was discharged from the hospital.

The moment he stepped out of the hospital, it felt to him like entering a whole new world.

The The Carter Family villa was located west of the riverbank. After Mr. Carter passed away and Brian Carter spent the past few years abroad, the household was all women, so everything inside and out was managed with great elegance.

The main gate was opened early to welcome him. Grace Sullivan got out of the car and, accompanied by Mrs. Carter, walked through the garden. Two people stood in front of the house: the elder was Aunt Taylor, essentially the house manager, and the younger, Sophie, was responsible for other chores.

The first meal at home was lavish, with over a dozen cold and hot dishes spread out. Grace Sullivan was always cautious—he ate whatever Mrs. Carter served him, and chose from what was placed in front of him, figuring that couldn't go wrong.

After lunch, he was taken to Brian Carter's bedroom.

A huge, dark-toned mural was spray-painted on the wall, depicting a rock youth sticking out his tongue beneath chaotic lines. Grace Sullivan asked, "Did I... paint this?"

Aunt Taylor laughed, "You don't have that kind of skill—it was bought."

Grace Sullivan carefully looked around. On the side cabinet was a framed photo, and he saw a picture of Brian Carter.

That face really did look just like his.

Grace Sullivan left the room. He didn't want to touch Brian Carter's things, didn't want to take over Brian Carter's room, didn't want to erase the traces that belonged to Brian Carter.

He insisted on moving into a guest room, which had been vacant for a long time and felt cold and deserted. Against the wall stood a dust-covered Steinway piano.

Aunt Taylor brought him a storage box containing electronic devices prepared for him: two cell phones, two pairs of headphones, and chargers.

"Bought new after the accident. The number has changed—one is a backup," Aunt Taylor said. "They're fully charged, but haven't been turned on yet."

Grace Sullivan noticed that Mrs. Carter had used a cell phone and asked, "Does everyone need to have one of these?"