Family Banquet Offense Defense (Part 2)

Su Wantang lowered her head and sipped her soup in small mouthfuls, as if the bowl before her were her entire world.

Zhao Chen put on a thoughtful expression, his fingers unconsciously tapping the table. After a long pause, he said hesitantly, "Dad, it's not about the terms... Aunt Zhang said that this kind of arrangement could easily be deemed Interest Transfer or disguised Capital Evasion under the law, especially since I'm still a student."

"She scared me by saying that if things went wrong, it could damage the Listed Company's reputation and even trigger a Regulatory Inquiry. I... I'm a little afraid."

He had already coordinated these talking points with Zhang Qingxue, and she agreed there was no problem with him saying them.

He was retreating in order to advance, dressing up his personal concerns as worries over his father's and the company's reputations, while once again reinforcing "Zhang Qingxue's warning" as a shield.

Zhao Jianguo's patience was visibly draining away.

The smile on his face faded, and his gaze sharpened. "Xiao Chen, you're my son, Henglong's Crown Prince! You need courage and a sense of responsibility! If you listen to this lawyer and that lawyer all day, how can you ever accomplish anything big?"

"Your dad has spent thirty years fighting his way through the Sea of Commerce. Do you think I understand risk less than you do? Opportunities vanish in an instant. By the time you've eliminated every risk, it'll be too late!"

His voice rose slightly, carrying the admonishing tone unique to both an elder and a superior.

The atmosphere in the dining room suddenly tightened.

Su Wantang finally raised her head, concern in her eyes.

She looked at Zhao Jianguo, then Zhao Chen. Her lips moved as though she wanted to mediate, but in the end, she only said softly, "Jianguo, don't rush. Talk to the child slowly... Xiao Chen, think it over carefully too. Your dad is doing this for your own good, for this family."

Her words were weak and powerless, more like habitual peacemaking than genuine intervention.

Zhao Chen lowered his gaze, concealing the cold gleam in his eyes.

When he looked up again, his face wore a complicated expression of being cowed by his father's authority, mixed with stubbornness and confusion.

"Dad, I know you're doing this for my good, and for the company."

His voice dropped, carrying a trace of struggle. "But those shares were left by Mom... They mean something different to me. And I can't just completely disregard what Aunt Zhang said."

"How about... you give me a little more time? I'll think it over carefully and ask some other knowledgeable uncles and aunties? Or after this semester's final exams are over, I can settle down and properly study the plan?"

"While we have time, I'll go see Aunt Zhang. If Aunt Zhang agrees to the share pledge, things will be much easier."

He had begun his delaying tactic.

He played the emotional card of "mother's relics," reiterated the importance of outside professional advice, and finally offered a vague deadline—"after final exams."

It was neither too soon nor too far away. It could temporarily placate his father while buying him at least two months.

Two months were enough.

By then, his father would already be behind bars, too busy saving himself to worry about anything else.

Zhao Jianguo stared at him intently, his chest rising and falling slightly as he clearly suppressed his anger.

He could tell that his son was making excuses and stalling, but the reasons Zhao Chen had given—his mother's relics, the lawyer's warning, the pressure of his studies—

—each stood on the moral or emotional high ground, making it difficult for him to simply crush them with the authority of a stern father or chairman.

Especially the reason of "mother's relics"; with his Second Wife still sitting at the table, it seemed all the more sensitive and powerful.

Silence spread across the table, broken only by the faint hum of the air conditioner vent.

The fog outside seemed to grow thicker, swallowing the dazzling river view completely. Reflected in the glass were the three blurred, deadlocked figures in the dining room.

After a long while, Zhao Jianguo suddenly chuckled, though there was little pleasure in the sound.

He picked up his glass again and drained the remaining half glass of Maotai in one gulp.

"Fine. My son's Grown Up now. He has his own ideas."

He set down the glass, his tone returning to calm as he even put on the mask of a loving father again. "Dad won't force you. Think it over carefully and focus on your studies. Final exams are important. As for the shares... we'll discuss them after the New Year."

He had voluntarily pushed back the deadline, changing "as soon as possible" into the vague "after the New Year."

But it seemed more like a tactic of retreating in order to advance, a posture of temporarily storing up the pressure.

Zhao Chen knew that if this attempt failed, the next offensive would only be more direct and harder to withstand.

"Thanks, Dad."

Zhao Chen secretly breathed a sigh of relief, but he also became even more vigilant.

"All right, all right, eat up. The food's getting cold."

Su Wantang hurriedly tried to smooth things over. She placed another bite of food into Zhao Chen's bowl, her smile somewhat forced. "Xiao Chen, try this. I just learned how to make it."

The rest of dinner ended hastily in a deliberately maintained but actually awkward calm.

Zhao Jianguo did not mention the shares again. Instead, he asked about trivial matters at school, but his tone no longer held the initial warmth.

Zhao Chen answered each question briefly.

Su Wantang, meanwhile, tried hard to find safe topics—such as the weather or matters back in Wang Ma's hometown—in an attempt to fill the gaps in the silence.

After dinner, Zhao Chen did not linger. Citing a group discussion the next day, he stood and said his goodbyes.