Chain-Reaction Collapse

The main conference room is located on the top floor of the Dongbei headquarters building.

The morning sun at ten o'clock streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the dark, long conference table and reflecting the dappled light from the crystal chandelier above. A dozen or so cups of tea sat on the table, most already cold and untouched. The ashtray, however, was overflowing with cigarette butts, and the air was thick with the mingled smells of tar and anxiety.

The conference table, which could seat twenty people, was only occupied by fewer than ten. Chairman Zheng Dong's seat was empty—he was still in the hospital. To the left of the head of the table sat Vice Chairman Old Qian, a man in his sixties with meticulously combed hair, who was usually in charge of government relations and capital operations. At this moment, his face was ashen. To the right was General Manager Old Chen, an operations specialist, who was looking down and unconsciously tapping his fingers on the table.

Next to them were the CFO, Marketing Director, Supply Chain Manager, Legal Director, and representatives of several major shareholders. Everyone was expressionless, or more accurately, their expressions were numb.

The CFO Liu Min, was a woman in her early forties. She wore gold-rimmed Glasses and had her short hair neatly combed. A thick report lay open in front of her, and she held a pen in her hand, the nib tapping softly on the paper.

"Everyone's here." Old Qian cleared his throat, his voice hoarse. "Let's begin. Director Liu, you go first."

Liu Min looked up and adjusted her Glasses. Her voice was steady, but she spoke faster than usual, as if she were in a hurry:

"I'd like to report on the operational data for the past 72 hours."

She turned on the projector, and the first chart appeared on the wall: the revenue curve of the store in S Province. It was a red line that was almost vertically downward, which had plummeted from three days ago, and by yesterday, the daily revenue had dropped to zero.

" In S Province, all thirty-four stores are currently either closed or partially closed. Of these, twenty-one have been ordered to suspend operations for rectification by fire and health departments, while thirteen have voluntarily suspended operations due to a sharp decline in customer traffic. Over the past three days, S Province has suffered a total loss—" She paused, then stated a figure, "Five million four hundred thousand."

The conference room was deathly silent. The only sound was the hissing of the air conditioner vents.

"Other regions across the country," Liu Min switched charts, displaying a national map with varying shades of red marking the revenue decline in each province. "Due to public opinion, the average customer traffic at stores nationwide has decreased by 62% over the past three days. Revenue has fallen by 58% year-on-year. Among them, major markets such as East China, South China, and North China have all seen declines exceeding 65%."

Numbers popped out one by one, like cold pebbles hitting the table.

"Based on current trends, if the situation doesn't improve, the total national loss this month will be between 80 million and 120 million." She paused again, this time for a longer pause, "..."

"How much?!" A shareholder representative sat up abruptly. He was in the real estate business and his surname was Sun. He didn't usually get involved in the day-to-day operations, but he had invested a lot of money.

"From eighty million to one hundred million two hundred million." Liu Min repeated, her voice still steady, but the knuckles of her fingers holding the pen were white.

"A month? A loss of 100 million?" Shareholder Sun's voice rose. "How much was Dongbei's net profit for the whole of last year? 200 million? You're going to lose half a year's profit in just one month?"

"This is the worst-case scenario," Old Chen couldn't help but say, trying to explain, "If public opinion can be stabilized, if..."

"What the hell!" Another shareholder, President Zhao, who runs a building materials business, slammed his fist on the table. "Public opinion? Is there any public opinion left? It's all just criticism! Did you see the provincial TV report yesterday? Huh? It's all over the internet! My wife even asked me yesterday, 'Is Dongbei really going to go bankrupt?' What the hell was I supposed to say?"

"President Zhao, please calm down," Old Qian tried to steer the situation. "Now is not the time for blame, but to solve the problem..."

"Solve the problem?" President Zhao sneered. "How? President Qian, you're an old hand. Tell me, how do we resolve this situation? Fire department sealing off the premises, sanitation fines, tax audits, media exposure—they're trying to destroy us! Tell me, how do we resolve this?"

Old Qian was speechless. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"What's the bank's attitude?" The general counsel, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. He was a man in his fifties with gray hair, and his tone was cautious.

Liu Min switched pages to a screenshot of an email. "Industrial and Commercial Bank of China, China Construction Bank, and China Merchants Bank, our three main partner banks, simultaneously sent risk warning letters yesterday afternoon, requiring us to explain our recent business situation and the impact of public opinion. Industrial and Commercial Bank of China explicitly stated that the 50 million yuan working capital loan maturing next month needs to be reassessed for renewal. China Construction Bank asked us to prepare this month's interest in advance and hinted that it might trigger cross-default clauses."

"Where are the suppliers?" the supply chain manager asked, his voice weak.

"Since yesterday afternoon, seven major food suppliers have suspended deliveries and are demanding cash payment. Cold chain logistics companies have also sent letters requesting prepayment for next quarter's fees." Liu Min took a deep breath. "If the cash flow dries up, some stores will face a situation where they have nothing to sell by next week at the latest."

Silence fell again in the meeting room. This silence was heavier, like a boulder pressing on everyone's chest.

Shareholder Sun suddenly laughed, a dry and unpleasant laugh, "Good, very good. Revenue to zero, banks demanding payment, suppliers cutting off supplies. What's next? Employees protesting for unpaid wages? Consumers demanding compensation? Or the court seizing assets?"

"President Sun!" Old Qian raised his voice, "What's the use of saying all this now? The most urgent thing is..."

"What's the most urgent task?" Shareholder Sun interrupted him, his gaze sweeping over everyone present. "It's stopping the bleeding! It's cutting off the losses! In S Province, they're clearly being targeted and there's no hope! The other stores across the country have been dragged down as well! The most important thing now is to save what's left. Sell what you can, close what you can, recover some cash, pay off the bank debts, and stabilize the suppliers! Not sitting here discussing 'public opinion management' or 'brand repair'—the brand is dead! Understand? Dead!"

His words were like a knife, tearing away the last veil of pretense.

Old Chen's face turned pale. He wanted to argue, but looking at the shocking charts on the wall, the words stuck in his throat.

"I agree with President Sun's opinion," President Zhao said in a deep voice. "It's a tough decision. Cut all operations in S Province. Assess the losses of all other stores nationwide; close any severely unprofitable ones immediately. Concentrate resources on preserving the still profitable stores; even if only one-tenth remains, it's better than total annihilation."

"But there are over thirty stores in S Province. How much was the initial investment? Renovation, equipment, rent, deposit... can you just cut it like that? Who will bear the losses?" A minority shareholder who had been silent until now couldn't help but ask.

"Losses?" Shareholder Sun looked at him as if he were a fool. "We're discussing how to survive, not who will bear the losses! By the time the court comes to settle accounts, you won't even have your underwear left!"

"Enough!" Old Qian slammed his hand on the table, causing the teacup to jump and splash water all over the table. His chest heaved as he looked at the group of people in front of him—people who usually called each other brothers, but now had menacing expressions on their faces.

He knew that Shareholder Sun and President Zhao were right. From a business perspective, drastic measures were the only option. But he was unwilling. He had watched Dongbei Zheng Dong build Dongbei from scratch, from a small shop to a national chain. He had contributed his efforts and invested money; he had an emotional attachment to it. Now, he could just cut it off and shut it down?

"Does Chairman Zheng know?" he asked, his voice weary.

"Chairman Zheng is still in the hospital," Liu Min said in a low voice. "His blood pressure was high again yesterday, and the doctor won't let him see any visitors."

"He needs to know!" Old Qian gritted his teeth. "This is his company! His life!"

"His life?" Shareholder Sun sneered. "President Qian, wake up. Dongbei doesn't just belong to Zheng Dong; it's a company owned by all of us shareholders! Now the company is being dragged down by him, and you're still waiting for his decision? If you wait for his decision, we'll all die together?"

Just then, the conference room door was suddenly pushed open.

Secretary Xiao Wang rushed in, her face ashen, clutching a folder in her hand, her chest heaving from running. She hadn't even knocked.

"Secretary Wang!" Old Qian frowned, "What's going on?"

"Mr. President Qian..." Xiao Wang's voice trembled as she looked at Liu Min, "Director Liu, we just... just received... a formal audit notice from the S Province Tax Bureau..."

She handed over the folder. Liu Min took it and quickly flipped through it. After just one glance, her face turned as white as a sheet of paper.

"What content?" Old Chen asked anxiously.

Liu Min raised her head, and for the first time, a clear fear appeared in her eyes behind her Glasses: "The S Province Tax Bureau Inspection Branch... has officially opened a case to investigate Dongbei S Province Branch and its subordinate stores for 'suspected false issuance of agricultural product purchase invoices, inflating costs, and evading taxes.' They have requested... requested that we provide all financial Ledger, vouchers, bank statements, and purchase and sales contracts for the past three years within three working days..."

"Fake invoices? Tax evasion?" Shareholder Sun suddenly stood up. "Who did this? What is the finance department doing?!"

"This... this is standard practice..." Liu Min's voice trembled. "It's the industry standard... to reduce costs, we use some... but we've never done this before..."

"That's all in the past!" Shareholder Sun roared, "Now they're targeting you! Do you know you'll go to jail if they find out?!"

The meeting room erupted in chaos.

"Three years! An audit of three years' worth of accounts! Can we withstand such an investigation?"

"How much will the back taxes and penalties amount to? Have you calculated it?"

"What about criminal liability? Who's responsible? Zheng Dong? Or you, Director Liu?"

"It's over... it's all over..."

The sounds of arguing, questioning, and banging on the table mingled together. Old Qian sat in the main seat, looking at the group of people who had lost control, his ears ringing. He suddenly felt very tired, so tired that he couldn't even lift a finger.

He recalled that twenty years ago, when Zheng Dong opened his first restaurant, he treated him to a meal. In the small restaurant, Zheng Dong, blushing, held up his wine glass and said, "Brother Qian, trust me, I will definitely make Dongbei a big brand, so that everyone can eat a safe and reliable meal."

He believed it. He invested money, used his connections, and received protection all the way.

What about now?

Safe and reliable food? Brand?

joke.

"Shut up, all of you!" Old Qian roared with all his might.

The meeting room fell silent instantly. Everyone was staring at him.

Old Qian slowly stood up, his hands supporting him on the table, his body leaning slightly forward, his gaze sweeping over every face. Those faces held anger, fear, calculation, and despair.

"President Sun, President Zhao," he began, his voice hoarse, "You're right. It's a tough decision. The entire S Province business is being cut off. All stores nationwide are being reassessed; those that need to be closed will be closed, and those that need to be sold will be sold. The legal department is working with the finance department to prepare materials and negotiate with banks and suppliers. We're trying our best... trying our best to salvage something."

He paused, then added, "This is my opinion. I will explain it to Chairman Zheng when he wakes up. I will take responsibility."

Shareholder Sun and President Zhao exchanged a glance, said nothing, but their expressions softened slightly.

"And also," Old Qian looked at Liu Min, "The tax authorities... cooperate fully. Pay what's due, and fine what's due. Under no circumstances can anyone be let in. Understand?"

Liu Min bit her lip and nodded.

"Meeting adjourned." Old Qian waved his hand, as if he had used up his last bit of strength.

The shareholders got up and left in a hurry, without exchanging a word. Soon, only Old Qian, Old Chen, Liu Min, and Xiao Wang standing at the door, looking bewildered, remained in the meeting room.

"President Qian..." Old Chen wanted to say something.

"You should go ahead and get busy," Old Qian interrupted him, "Be prepared for the worst."

Old Chen sighed, picked up his notebook, and left.

Liu Min packed up the documents and left silently.

The meeting room was completely empty. The sunlight was still bright, shining on the empty chairs and the mess on the table.

Old Qian stood there for a long time. Then he walked to the window and looked down. From this height, he could see almost half the city. The streets were bustling with cars and pedestrians like ants. How many of those high-rise buildings and shops were former Dongbei customers? What were they eating now? Did they still remember Dongbei?

He picked up his phone, found Zheng Dong's number, and dialed it.

It rang for a long time before Zheng Dong's wife answered, her voice trembling with tears. "Brother Qian..."

How is Xiao Zheng?

"Just woke up... but the doctor said I can't be stimulated anymore... Brother Qian, is the company...?"

"It's nothing," Old Qian interrupted her, his voice very soft. "Tell him to take good care of himself. I'll take care of the company."

After hanging up the phone, he looked out the window again.

His phone rang again. It was an unfamiliar number. He hesitated for a moment, then answered.

"President Qian? I'm a reporter from * Finance Weekly *. I'd like to interview you about Dongbei's current operational crisis. May I ask...?"

Old Qian hung up immediately and turned off his phone.

He walked to the small bar in the corner of the conference room, opened the liquor cabinet, took out a bottle of whiskey, poured a little less than half a glass, and downed it without ice.

The liquor was strong; it burned down my throat, then settled in my stomach, turning into a ball of fire.

He walked to the spot where Zheng Dong usually sat and sat down. The chair was large and comfortable. Zheng Dong liked to sit here, looking down at the people below, giving orders, full of vigor and confidence.

The chair is currently empty.

Old Qian leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Many images flashed through my mind: opening ceremony, new product launch, annual celebration, Zheng Dong giving a speech on stage, and me applauding from below.

And those scenes on TV yesterday: the thermometer in the freezer, the blackened cotton swabs, the blocked fire exit.

Everything was broken.

Like the wine in this glass, if you swirl it, it will dissipate.

At the same time, Zhou Wenyuan Law Firm.

Zhou Wenyuan sat behind his desk, looking at an encrypted email he had just received on his computer screen. The sender was anonymous, but the attached materials were substantial: scanned copies of some financial data from Dongbei S Province Branch over the past three years, highlighting abnormal fluctuations in certain cost items, as well as discrepancies between several purchase contracts and bank statements.

The email body contained only one sentence. "For reference only. Source is legitimate."

After reading the email, Zhou Wenyuan closed it, picked up his phone, and dialed Lin Feng's number.

The call was answered quickly.

"Lawyer Zhou."

"The materials have been received," Zhou Wenyuan said. "Very timely. The tax authorities have already taken action. If used properly, these materials can completely eliminate Dongbei from S Province."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Hmm." Lin Feng's voice was calm. "You handle it."

"Zheng Dong is probably on its last legs," Zhou Wenyuan said. "I've heard rumors that Dongbei is already discussing cutting off its business in S Province and making a complete withdrawal."

"Then let them remove it completely."

"Understood." Zhou Wenyuan paused. "Also, Zheng Dong sent a message through an intermediary, wanting to meet with you to apologize in person."

This time, Lin Feng remained silent for an even longer time.

"Let's talk about it later," he said. "Let's wait until he really realizes he was wrong."

The call ended.

Zhou Wenyuan put down his phone and looked out the window. The sun was setting, and the sky was gradually darkening.

The city is about to welcome another night.

For some, however, this night will be exceptionally long.