Reply to Keats - Chap 65

65. Sinking Ship
Chen Wan never received Zhao Shengge’s call.

The music in the banquet hall was loud, and the crowd buzzed with voices.

It was Chen Bingxin’s 69th birthday, the final milestone before he entered his seventies. Half of Haishi’s prominent figures had shown up to pay their respects.

This was the first time Chen Wan had been allowed to appear at a formal Chen family event. He wore a modest white suit, his hair a little long at the ends, looking gentle and handsome.

Most of the younger generation in Haishi had only vaguely heard whispers of Song Qingmiao’s scandalous past from the end of the last century. They knew little detail, which made Chen Wan’s sudden appearance feel all the more enigmatic. Many approached him for conversation, and Chen Wan played along, weaving through the glamorous crowd of men and women, until Liao Quan stopped him behind the champagne fountain.

“Chen Wan, are you playing me?”

It had only been a little over half a month, but Liao Quan now had visible signs of exhaustion, his face aged and twisted.

Chen Wan didn’t spare him so much as a glance. He raised his glass toward someone across the room, then finally turned to face him, saying nothing.

Liao Quan’s eyes burned with fury. He ground his teeth. “You told me to buy up fractional shares, to bottom-fish while the price dropped, and to collude with market makers to manipulate the stock market.”

“And the loan from Beimao, you said it was financing, but it was really disguised embezzlement and fund misappropriation.”

Chen Wan put down his glass. He had just received the final batch of shares Chen Bingxin had promised him, so he was in a decent mood and had just enough patience to address this discarded pawn. “Do you have any proof? The signatures are yours. You bought the shares yourself and transferred them yourself. You asked me to make introductions, and I did. But who Minglong chooses to work with isn’t up to me. You made your own choices, and now you need to face them.”

Liao Quan’s chest heaved. “I have to face them, sure—but don’t think you’re getting away either. Do you have any idea of Beimao’s connection to Heijiu? Yesterday, more than a dozen of them showed up armed and smashed the Rongxin branch on Dunli Street. They even broke into my vacation home!”

They’d even threatened to cut off his right hand if the debt wasn’t repaid, and to mail it to his elder sister and brother-in-law so that Chen Bingxin could see his betrayal.

Chen Wan nodded, speaking as if it had nothing to do with him. “Then I hope President Liao manages to patch up this hole and keep that dirty hand of yours intact.”

Liao Quan was stunned. “You knew!” Then his expression shifted to panic. “Y-you were in on it with them! Are you trying to get me killed?”

A faint, pitying smile appeared in Chen Wan’s eyes.

Liao Quan felt a chill down his spine. The other man’s capacity for holding grudges and exacting revenge was far beyond anything he had imagined. “You’re still hung up on that… I only brushed against your foot… I didn’t actually do anything to you, did I?”

“But this hand still disgusts me.” Chen Wan tilted his head slightly, his gaze calm yet chilling, his voice so soft it sent shivers down the spine. “I could cut off a finger. Or I could have someone take your whole hand.”

Panic overtook Liao Quan. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll release those photos—”

“Go ahead,” Chen Wan lifted his wrist and checked the time, “though I suggest you take a look at this evening’s Harbor News at seven before you do.”

Though it was only a small segment, those photos were now worthless.

Thanks to Chen Wan’s efficiency, and a few extra shares, Ge Xi had even been willing to invite Song Qingmiao to retake a few updated photos for the article.

To her, men were never as important as money. Meng Yuanxiong meant nothing in the Ge family.

“You played me!!”

Chen Wan looked at him calmly, as if staring at a dying man with no hope of salvation.

A belated sense of satisfaction rose in his chest.

He nodded serenely. “I told you—if you want to accuse someone, you better have proof.”

“You manipulated me into trading, leaked confidential information, and conspired with traders to rig the market. Any one of those is enough to ruin you. Chen Wan, just wait for the penalty notice from the Supervisory Commission!”

“No need.” Chen Wan remained calm, not the slightest bit fazed. “I’ve already received their warning.”

It didn’t matter.

The threshold for proving market manipulation was high. This wasn’t Chen Wan’s first time being summoned for questioning; he knew exactly how to navigate these gray zones. He had only taken this risk because he was 120% certain he could walk away unscathed.

Chen Wan had even asked Zhuo Zhixuan to arrange help from a foreign classmate to oversee the trades. As long as the transactions happened outside the country, it was technically a gray area. The Supervisory Commission would find no concrete evidence. At most, they’d issue a warning.

If it were anything more, it wouldn’t have been just a questioning.

Besides, he was acting on behalf of Ge Xi. Even if she didn’t intend to protect him, the newly transferred shares were still under his control.

The only reason Chen Wan had bothered to play along with Liao Quan at all was to ensure the Chen family’s downfall would be total.

He was a master of discarding the useful once they’d served their purpose, dismantling the bridge once crossed. No one did it better than Chen Wan.

Liao Quan’s eyes were blazing, his chest heaving. He was speechless. Chen Wan curved his lips into a smile and turned gracefully, slipping back into his perfectly composed persona like a breeze in spring. Like a butterfly, he fluttered seamlessly into the dazzling lights.

“Fourth Young Master, the Master requests your presence.”

Chen Bingxin had yet to formally acknowledge Chen Wan’s identity, but the staff knew how to read the room. Even the way they addressed him had promptly changed.

Chen Wan walked over with a wine glass in hand. Chen Bingxin was supported on either side by concubines from the first and second branches. Behind him trailed a line of children from the second and third branches.

In recent days, under Chen Wan’s secret manipulation, Rongxin’s stock had steadily climbed. Chen Bingxin was all smiles, unaware that a storm was coming.

Chen Wan watched this charade of prosperity and harmony with a cold gaze, feeling an indescribable exhilaration.

The final piece of the puzzle was in his hands. Soon, he would personally send this already sinking ship into the depths of the sea. Every single person who had ever coveted Zhao Shengge would be eliminated, one by one. And in this, Chen Wan felt a long-lost thrill.

Several of the family’s younger men came to flatter Chen Bingxin, offering an array of auspicious words. Some even dressed in colorful clothes to entertain their elders. Chen Baoying played the violin, and Chen Yu composed a lengthy congratulatory speech. Only Chen Wan remained aloof.

In the past, Chen Bingxin had underestimated this long-neglected son’s capabilities. Now, dissatisfied by Chen Wan’s lack of obedience, he tapped his cane and gave a command. “Tonight’s guests are important. When the banquet starts, you’ll toast Uncle Xu first. Make sure the glass is full.”

Though Rongxin had gained some traction recently, its momentum was weak. Chen Bingxin had long wanted to secure a steady stream of income through the tobacco export trade, and Xu Jiming was a key figure. Chen Yu had never managed to get through to him.

Chen Wan looked over calmly, his expression devoid of emotion, a chill surfacing in his eyes.

Xu Jiming’s tastes were well-known in Haishi. In his sixties, he had recently taken in a male concubine, a university student more than forty years his junior.

The man was sly and slick, with murky relationships across the upper ranks of many corporations, which gave him access to a trove of resources. Chen Bingxin’s intent in sending Chen Wan to toast him at this time needed no further explanation.

Xu Jiming had a known preference for someone like Chen Wan. Chen Bingxin harbored the idea of using this opportunity to tame his son. For every middle-aged man, establishing authority on a grand occasion was instinctual. Now that Chen Wan was involved in Rongxin’s affairs, if he remained uncontrollable, the consequences would be dire.

The concubines cast subtle glances his way, and derisive snickers filtered out from the younger generation. Chen Wan had stolen much of their spotlight and taken many of their things in recent days, but in the end, wasn’t he still just someone who used his looks to serve others?

Just like his mother.

Chen Wan’s stomach churned, but he stood motionless. He sneered, “So Rongxin has sunk this low? Even if you sell my body and soul, I doubt it could be revived.”

“What nonsense!” Chen Bingxin snapped. The thing he hated most was anyone mentioning Rongxin’s decline. He refused to face the reality that the empire he’d built was crumbling. His cane struck heavily on the table. “It’s just a toast, basic social courtesy. Don’t twist it into something disgraceful.”

The Second Madam tried to smooth things over. “Ah-Wan, today is your father’s birthday. Don’t upset him. It’s only a drink. Back when your mother was young, she also used to share a drink with your Uncle Xu.” Her delicate face bore the shrewdness and cruelty unique to wealthy women of Haishi. She left her words half-spoken, deliberately inviting speculation. “And back then, it wasn’t just about drinking, either—”

Those in the know exchanged suggestive smirks. Chen Wan felt as if his heart had been seared by fire.

He had always believed that over the years, his mental fortitude had been tempered into something solid. Yet in this moment, he felt stripped bare, humiliated in public.

These people showed no shame, using mocking and vile language to openly degrade a woman.

Song Qingmiao had not been like this in the beginning. Her nature had never been so wanton. But after being steeped in that world for too long, from struggling to becoming numb, she gradually forgot who she was and lost the will to resist. In the end, her eyes were blinded by vanity, and she became nothing more than foam in the center of a whirlpool of power.

She had her innocence, and she had her misfortune. The real culprit was the man who pushed her into the abyss.

Men used women as pawns to trade for profit. In the end, the women were laughed at as mere whores. How cruel, how absurd.

Chen Wan’s cold, composed gaze swept over the room. At this point, there was no longer any need to endure humiliation in silence. He spoke with neither humility nor arrogance, each word striking like a lash against the scalp. “Madam, there’s no need for such suggestive and ambiguous talk. None of that was my mother’s choice. It was your husband who lured and forced her into it. You know very well how many things he’s obtained over the years by pushing her into socializing, negotiating, smiling to please others. Without her navigating those circles, would he be where he is today? Second Madam, you too are just another one of his sacrifices. You and my mother are both pawns. So why make things hard for each other? He sold women then, and now he sells his own children. Second Madam, you’d best be careful. Chen Baoyi is sixteen this year. You’d better protect her well.”

The Second Madam’s face turned ashen. Chen Bingxin flushed with fury, about to rebuke him, when Xu Jiming approached, wine glass in hand.

Xu Jiming was gaunt and puffy-faced. He claimed he’d come over to share a drink with Chen Bingxin, but his eyes lingered on Chen Wan several times.

Chen Wan had a jade-like elegance that was hard to look away from. Xu Jiming could only regret how well the Chen family had hidden this son in the past. Now that the boy had grown fangs and claws, he was no longer easy to control.

Chen Bingxin had several tobacco trade lines that he needed Xu Jiming’s help to export at the lowest tax rates. Clinking glasses of strong liquor with him, he said, “Out of the old crew we started with back in Kowloon Bay, you always held your liquor the best. In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed. Going forward, Rongxin’s future will still depend on old friends like you.”

Xu Jiming gave the drink a half-hearted push but didn’t take a sip. Pointing at him with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes, he said, “Lao Chen, now this just won’t do. With Ah-Wan back to help you, a father like you should step aside and give the young ones room to grow.”

He picked up a bottle of strong liquor, filled the glass to the brim, and handed it to Chen Wan with a smile. “Come now, Ah-Wan, have a drink with your Uncle Xu. From now on, the tobacco side of Rongxin is under my protection. Foreign trade’s tough these days. You young people lack experience. You need to follow the right people to avoid falling flat on your face.”

The words were half temptation, half threat. But Chen Wan was impenetrable. “No need. Going forward, we won’t trouble Boss Xu with tobacco. Rongxin has other plans.”

Tobacco exports were one of Rongxin’s few remaining profitable sectors. Cutting Xu Jiming out of the loop was, in truth, the best outcome.

Chen Bingxin froze, his face reddening with rage. He slammed his cane hard against the floor. “Chen Wan! What nonsense are you spouting?” He had just transferred shares to Chen Wan, and now a vague unease stirred in his heart.

Chen Wan’s eyes gleamed with a hint of pity, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction. He pushed even further, adding fuel to the fire. “Oh, and not just tobacco. The logistics side, too.” With Rongxin on the verge of collapse, what industries were left to speak of?

Xu Jiming seemed increasingly intrigued. His slightly upturned eyes narrowed. “Lao Chen, your Fourth Young Master is quite interesting. Those ships at Qingwan Port that failed inspection—are you bringing them back or—”

Before he could finish, Chen Wan raised his voice and cut in directly, “No need to bring them back. If Boss Xu wants them destroyed, that’s perfectly fine too.”

Just as Chen Bingxin was about to speak, Chen Wan suddenly noticed that both his and Xu Jiming’s expressions changed at the exact same moment.

Chen Wan didn’t quite understand why at first, but that same subtle, complex, and unmistakable look spread outward like ripples—from their faces to the concubines, to the younger generation, until it reached every person present.

Chen Wan’s brows knitted slightly. He turned around, and his eyes widened.

Zhao Shengge, dressed in a tailored suit, looked like he’d just come from some formal occasion.

He walked steadily and unhurriedly in the front, followed by Chen Yu, Chen Ying, and several of the Chen family’s younger members, all showing him deference.

If Chen Yu hadn’t met him once during the peak of the Chen family’s power in his youth, he wouldn’t even dare believe that the man before them was Zhao Shengge.

Whenever Haishi’s major families hosted banquets, it was customary to send invitations to the Zhao family, but only a few top families would receive a reply within the year, and Zhao Shengge himself would never be the one to attend.

No one knew what he had come for.

Zhao Shengge was tall and long-limbed, with sharp features and a kind of indifference that looked down on everything. The group behind him followed close, visibly tense and flustered.

Chen Yu, who walked nearest to him, had tried several times to make small talk with a forced smile, but received no response. Zhao Shengge regarded him with the detached disdain one might reserve for an ant, ignoring the curious and wary stares from the crowd as if they didn’t exist. From beginning to end, his expression remained cool, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the room.

It wasn’t until he saw Chen Wan that his expression softened, if only slightly.