Tenderness and Undercurrents

"Didn't you leave last night?" Zhang Qingxue's voice came through, carrying her usual efficiency and calm.

"Yes, I just left the Villa. He should be quite satisfied, thinking the funding issue is about to be resolved."

Zhao Chen was concise. "Make sure you have the paperwork ready for every stage on your end."

"Understood. I've already prepared the first draft of the procedural documents. They look extremely formal and complicated."

A faint rustle of turning pages came from Zhang Qingxue's end.

"Cross-border pledges involve legal coordination across the mainland, Hong Kong, and Singapore, foreign exchange approvals, compliance reviews of the target company, and the design of cross-border fund transfer routes...

Every item can be made into an endless amount of paperwork. As per your request, I've estimated the preliminary timeline at over fifteen business days—possibly even longer."

"Aunt Zhang, thank you for all the trouble." Rare warmth entered Zhao Chen's voice.

There was a brief silence on the other end before Zhang Qingxue replied in understanding, "As long as I can help you. How long are you planning to drag this out?"

"That depends." Zhao Chen looked toward the city skyline, faintly visible through the mist.

"We don't just need to stall. We need to make him feel that we're doing this for greater security and better terms, not deliberately obstructing him.

We need him to focus his anxiety on the process itself instead of suspecting my motives."

"That will require extremely precise control," Zhang Qingxue said thoughtfully.

"We have to maintain communication and let him see 'progress,' but we can't move too quickly. I'll keep the pace under control. Also, he may contact me directly to press for updates."

"If he contacts you, use professional terminology to explain the bottlenecks. Stress the importance of compliance and risk control. And while you're at it... tell him compliance is your bottom line. Otherwise, forget it."

"That won't be a problem." Zhang Qingxue paused, and a trace of faint doubt entered her voice.

"But Xiao Chen, no matter how long we delay the process, once we reach the stage of signing and disbursing the funds... we don't have another set of shares to pledge. How will we wrap things up then?"

A cold curve formed at the corner of Zhao Chen's lips, devoid of any hint of a smile. "Don't worry. I've already made foolproof preparations."

Another silence followed on the line.

Clearly, Zhang Qingxue had no idea why Zhao Chen was so certain.

"I understand." Zhang Qingxue's voice sounded again, restored to absolute calm.

"I'll turn this 'process' into a carefully orchestrated wait with no end. By the way... how was your stay at home last night?"

Zhao Chen recalled that bowl of noodles and Su Wantang's busy figure that morning. His eyes shifted slightly, but his tone remained steady.

"Mm. Su Wantang is a good woman. That five percent in her hands isn't just shares—it's the source of her sense of security, and also... a projection of some regret she carries. I'll continue observing."

"Good. As long as you know what you're doing. Leave things here to me and focus on your own affairs."

After ending the call, Zhao Chen slipped his phone back into his pocket, shoved both hands into his coat pockets, and continued along the rain-soaked street.

The busy morning rush had already begun. The traffic and crowds merged into a roaring wave of noise, as though they belonged to a world entirely separate from the cold, precise calculations within his heart.

He raised his head and looked in the direction of his father's company.

At that moment, Zhao Jianguo was probably sitting in his office overlooking everyone below. Perhaps he was still smug over successfully tricking his son, or perhaps he was calculating how to crush those detestable short sellers in one stroke once that "soon-to-arrive" funding came through.

He would never know that the "reinforcements" he had placed such high hopes on would never arrive.

And his true weakness was being pushed, inch by inch, toward the abyss by his own son on another battlefield he could not see.

Zhao Chen withdrew his gaze and merged into the rushing crowd.

There was no expression on his face. Only deep in his eyes was reflected the cold, unyielding city gradually emerging from the fog, as well as the road he walked alone—a road from which there was destined to be no return.

Ahead lay the flames of vengeance, and the ashes of rebirth.

Behind him, the warmth of that breakfast was like a dying lamp in the mist—faint, yet real. He would carefully seal it away in a corner of his heart where it would not affect his judgment.

Because the battle had only just entered its most crucial stage.

All warmth and tenderness had to make way for the final reckoning.

Today was Sunday. He wondered what Shen Zhiyi was doing.

Without the slightest hesitation, he dialed Shen Zhiyi's number.

"Hello!" The voice on the other end was full of surprise.

"Do you have any plans today?" Zhao Chen asked softly as he stood at the South Gate of Zhengfa University.

"No plans!" Shen Zhiyi told a small lie. She had originally arranged to go shopping with her roommate.

"Then perfect." Zhao Chen brought it up as if casually. "I don't have any plans either. How about we make do with a meal together?"

This was the first time he had taken the initiative to ask Shen Zhiyi out since his rebirth, and an inexplicable nervousness stirred within him.

"Pfft..." Shen Zhiyi couldn't help herself. This guy really had thick skin—asking someone out without even being serious about it.

"Sure! Where are you right now?" She did not notice at all that her delighted cheer had drawn her roommate's attention.

"I'm at the South Gate right now!"

Shen Zhiyi replied quickly, "Okay! I'll be right there! (Emoji: Happy)"