Chapter 597 - 5: Farewell
Twenty-eight years is indeed a very long time.
When the challenge first began, with a packed schedule, endless tasks, and expectations for the future coupled with fears of death, Chen Zhou didn’t feel that time was so abundant.
On the contrary, due to the storm dates marked in the original work, he woke up every day in worry, concerned about not being able to move supplies off the ship, worried the storm would destroy his shelter.
Clumsily making tools, digging cave dwellings, bravely using explosives, hoping the crops would grow smoothly...
Looking back, Chen Zhou felt like he started life anew at the age of 25.
In a different world, living a life completely distinct from before.
...
As time passed, he became increasingly older. Perhaps the humidity of the island was too heavy, his knee joints occasionally throbbed faintly.
A fear of life and death like never before emerged in Chen Zhou’s heart.
Although he knew that before dying he could leave this island and return to the vigorous age of 25.
Yet the body’s aging and the storms experienced over these years inevitably changed his mindset.
He began to fear death.
...
Sometimes, accompanied by guards while strolling on the island’s bustling docks, seeing islanders walking on the pier with wives and children, Chen Zhou couldn’t help but wonder if not leaving descendants in this world was a mistake.
The brilliant smiles of those children, the bell-like joyful sounds touched his heart.
In recent years, Saturday, Sunday, and a group of island core personnel who grew up under Chen Zhou’s eyes have also married and had children one after another.
When they visited Chen Zhou, occasionally they would bring their children.
Children born on this island resembled a different race compared to the former natives, their faces full of childlike innocence and simplicity, without a trace of fierceness.
Chen Zhou liked Sunday’s children the most.
They were twin boys, as spirited as their father!
When doing things, they were swift and decisive, full of endless energy.
With these two lively treasures at home, it seemed much busier; otherwise, it was always the calls of cats, birds, and dogs, which, once accustomed, also felt quite dull.
...
Nearing the age of fifty, Chen Zhou had once considered whether he should leave a son or daughter.
For him, this was quite a difficult decision—
As the ruler of the island, his offspring wouldn’t just inherit his power and influence, it would also stir many unforeseen disputes.
Saturday, Sunday, Chen Fu, Chen Lu, and Chen Shou had long secured their positions on the island.
Among them, some wielded absolute military power, some controlled education, some oversaw justice, some managed trade, each fostering their factions.
If he had a child, it would be easy if it was an only child; influenced by him, these people would definitely support them with all their might.
But what if there were two children?
Then it might end up like ancient emperors, fighting for the throne of "crown prince," each choosing sides and causing conflicts.
Chen Zhou was not worried about the so-called issue of primogeniture; he worried that his child would be incapable of controlling the situation.
Ultimately, he was the only born-and-bred modern individual; the entire world only he received a complete modern education and only he possessed a forward-looking vision.
His child, even if they inherited his bloodline, would be impossible to inherit his knowledge and understanding of the world.
Even if he taught without reservation, those born into this world either couldn’t escape the limitations of the era, or would become builders of completely impractical "castles in the air," leading the island on a path of self-destruction.
The prosperity and well-being the natives came to enjoy wasn’t easy, nor was the reputation and thriving scenario built over years.
Additionally, Chen Zhou didn’t want to leave too many things here that didn’t belong. Though he contemplated many times, he ultimately abandoned the idea of having children.
...
However, although Chen Zhou could choose not to consider descendants, others on the island couldn’t ignore thoughts about the next generation.
Saturday, Sunday, the high-ranking officials closely watched by Chen Zhou were relatively better. Under them, the mid-rank officials married and had children early.
In recent years, most of these mid-rank officials’ children have reached seventeen or eighteen, having received island education, and under parental arrangements, they went to work at important island units.
Of course, their "promotion speed" was much faster than that of workers from ordinary families, soaring to positions others wouldn’t touch even with half a lifetime within just two or three years.
As for their work capabilities, according to the evaluation criteria of their fathers, they were naturally deemed extremely excellent.
Yet, in Chen Zhou’s eyes, they were merely a group of incompetents; some of the officials managing agriculture couldn’t even distinguish between barley and wheat.
In order to rectify this phenomenon of "seeking benefits for descendants," in the final decade, Chen Zhou launched several major purges.
The number of officials he dismissed or executed was no fewer than a hundred.
Yet the deaths of "predecessors" couldn’t completely alert the successors; they merely felt that their predecessors acted too blatantly, not cautiously enough, hence giving rise to various even harder-to-monitor forms of nepotism.
Fortunately, the island was ultimately Chen Zhou’s domain, as long as he confirmed someone abusing their power for profit, he could apply thunderous measures.
Every few years, bloodied heads would be displayed at Execution Square, and those "climbers" who died unpeacefully silently warned those who followed, maintaining the island’s ethos at a relatively clean level.