Henglong's Diagnostic Report

Sunday morning light streamed through the windows, cutting quiet patterns of light and shadow across the wooden floor.

Zhao Chen woke to no calls, no urgent matters awaiting his decision.

A long-lost, almost luxurious sense of ease wrapped around the lingering exhaustion from the night before.

He decided not to go anywhere.

By the time he came downstairs, the scent of coffee and toast had already filled the air.

Su Wantang was plating fried eggs. When she turned and saw him, her eyes curved into a smile. "Perfect timing. Eat while it's hot."

There were only the two of them at the dining table.

Wang Ma was not there.

Zhao Chen remembered mentioning that she should come back, but Su Wantang had not acted on it.

He did not mind—he had only suggested it because he was afraid she would tire herself out. Since she preferred things as they were now, then this was for the best.

Su Wantang had thoughts she had never voiced. In the past, Wang Ma had been both company and a pair of ever-watchful eyes.

Now, with only her and him in this vast space, a subtle, private balance was beginning to take shape.

She cherished this ordinary routine of preparing meals for him, waiting for him to come downstairs, and sitting quietly across from him.

With one more person around, the feeling of "home" would be diluted.

She had already reached a private agreement with Wang Ma: her pay would remain unchanged, and she could return whenever needed.

Wang Ma was more than happy to have the time off.

"Do you have plans today?" She pushed the warmed milk closer to him.

"I'm sorting through some backlogged documents." Zhao Chen cut into his bacon. "I need to get a clear picture of the company's situation."

Su Wantang nodded and did not ask further questions, merely nudging the jar of jam toward him.

After breakfast, Zhao Chen entered the study.

Before long, a message from Shen Zhiyi arrived with the morning light:

The 600,000 had been transferred, accompanied by an obedient-looking emoji. "It's in your hands now, Teacher Zhao."

"Don't worry! Give me a year, and I'll make your spending money grow twentyfold!"

The corner of Zhao Chen's lips lifted as he sent Chen Xi his instructions:

"Set up an independent account with double leverage. Starting next Monday, buy Bitcoin whenever the opportunity arises, targeting around 900 US Dollar. Buy until the position is full. Archive all trading records separately."

Twentyfold was conservative. With double leverage, the returns would be far greater than twentyfold.

Chen Xi's reply came swift as a blade. "Understood. The account and strategy are ready."

Her call came through immediately, her voice calm and professional.

"Zhao Zong, three matters.

"First, your new driver has been confirmed. He's a veteran with an excellent background and strong capabilities. His file has been sent to your email.

"Second, the Chairman's Office has been reset. All old items have been sealed and transferred away, and the style has been adjusted according to your requirements. It will be ready for use on Monday.

"Third, and most importantly—"

She paused, her tone turning more solemn.

"With Deputy Director Chen Qiming's cooperation, the company's true Financial Situation 'diagnostic report' has been completed.

"The core figures and risk summary have been sent, with the detailed report attached. The situation... is more complicated than the public financial statements suggest."

Zhao Chen gave a quiet "Mm" and opened his email.

A report titled <Henglong Group Financial Situation: An In-Depth Analysis (Core Summary)> lay quietly in his inbox. He opened it, his gaze sweeping over the startling truths Chen Xi had distilled into bullet points:

Henglong Group: Cracks Beneath the Ice (As of December 2016)

The Illusion of Liquidity:

Cash on hand: 720 million Hong Kong Dollar, seemingly abundant.

However, rigid debt maturities over the next 12 months amounted to as much as 2.49 billion Hong Kong Dollar (1.58 billion in short-term borrowings + 910 million in non-current liabilities due within one year).

This meant the company required more than 200 million Hong Kong Dollar in "blood transfusions" every month, while its cash pool could only sustain it for slightly over three months.

This did not even account for the 4.17 billion Hong Kong Dollar in construction in progress—a beast continuously devouring cash—or the 2.84 billion Hong Kong Dollar in accounts payable, which could trigger a supply-chain squeeze.

Sunken Assets and Rigid Liabilities:

Total assets stood at roughly 15 Billion Hong Kong Dollar, but the core consisted of 6 Billion Hong Kong Dollar in fixed assets and 4.17 billion Hong Kong Dollar in construction in progress.

The former was difficult to liquidate, while the latter was a financial Black Hole.

Inventory stood at 2.23 billion Hong Kong Dollar and was moving slowly. Distant Water Cannot Quench Near Thirst.

Total liabilities, including off-balance-sheet obligations, were estimated at 12 Billion Hong Kong Dollar.

Of that, off-balance-sheet guarantees and hidden debts manipulated by Lin Wanqing and absent from the official books amounted to as much as 3 Billion Hong Kong Dollar—explosives buried beneath the foundation of the company's credit, with unknown trigger conditions.

The Cruel Trump Card

After squeezing out inflated assets and accounting for Off-Balance Sheet Liabilities, the company's true net assets stood at roughly 3 Billion.

Conclusion: the company was walking a tightrope of "borrowing new to repay old," with cash being burned far faster than it could generate it. Any major debt default or detonation of its off-balance-sheet liabilities would trigger a collapse of credit and instantly drain all liquidity.

Below the report was a schedule of major debt maturities, cash flow projections for key projects, and several suspicious points Chen Qiming had marked in red where abnormal fund movements might exist.

Zhao Chen leaned back. The only sound left in the Study was the soft tapping of his fingers against the desk.

It was clearer—and more dangerous—than the full picture he had only glimpsed when things were on the verge of collapse in his Previous Life.

Father Zhao Jianguo's aggressive expansion and Lin Wanqing's exquisite financial sleight of hand had jointly created this behemoth—majestic on the outside, but hollowed into a brittle shell by High Leverage and complex debt.

Those 720 million in cash seemed as insignificant as a lone boat amid raging waves before this balance sheet.

He spent the entire day trudging through an ocean of numbers and text.

Sunlight slowly crept across the floor. The tea went cold, then was quietly replaced with a fresh brew.

Su Wantang came in twice—once to refill his tea, and once to set down a plate of fruit.

Her movements were light. Whenever her gaze passed over the dense, suffocating data on the screen, a fleeting trace of heartache would flash in her eyes before she quickly regained her composure and silently withdrew.