Chapter 160

Wang Yan didn't stoke Shi Xiaomeng's hatred, because Shi Xiaomeng was genuinely kind.

Even now that he'd seen Cheng Cheng Shengen'en's true colors, it was still a waste of effort. If Shen Bing had truly gone along with the original plot and gotten together with Cheng Feng, fine—but the key was, Shen Bing hadn't run off.

If he were given the chance to deal with Cheng Feng and that old bastard Cheng Cheng Shengen'en, he'd soften at the critical moment. He'd remember all the good Cheng Feng had once done for him, all the debts of gratitude he owed.

As for Cheng Feng's obsession with Shen Bing, he himself had to find excuses for him—and reasons to forgive him. Like, he hadn't succeeded yet, or lots of others were after Shen Bing, and it just so happened that his friend was one of them.

So dealing with Cheng Feng and his father still needed Wang Mou himself to step in. Shi Xiaomeng might as well just stop adding overtime to his own workload.

After tidying up the tea set, time was about right, and his core team had gradually arrived. He'd sent out email notices yesterday; now Wang Yan picked up his laptop and went to the conference room.

Since he'd previously instructed the personnel expansion, he'd, alongside several project managers, hired plenty of programmers with sufficient skill—all of them capable workers who could keep up.

As for artificial intelligence, he still relied on the original company's staff; he hadn't yet massively expanded his R&D team. He'd wait until his current project launched and he had money in hand before increasing investment further—right now, his funds were still a bit short. If he was going to do it, he'd do it big; small-scale research was honestly less convenient than what he himself tinkered with on the side.

Of course, this was built on the key core code in his head; otherwise, what the hell was he even researching? Nothing comes overnight—it's all step by step. What he had in his head was the foundation.

The purpose of this meeting was to launch a new project—first, take a swing at it.

He'd wanted to do this before, but back then he lacked manpower, so he'd only launched WeChat. Now that he'd hired many more people, some were assigned to the WeChat team to speed up development, while others formed a new team specifically to handle the "Pintao" project.

Wang Laoban didn't mention it, but Shi Xiaomeng left the company, hailed a taxi, and went to the place he and Cheng Cheng Shengen'en had arranged to meet—a teahouse.

"Mr. Hello, how many in your party?"

Seeing Shi Xiaomeng head straight in without speaking, the receptionist hurried forward two steps and asked.

"I'm here to see someone."

"A gentleman?"

"Yeah, right."

"Alright, this way, please."

The receptionist gestured with her hand and led the way upstairs.

Shi Xiaomeng followed behind, scanning the surroundings.

After a while, the receptionist reached a private room door, knocked "Dong dong dong," waited two breaths, then opened the door and gestured to Shi Xiaomeng: "Please."

After Shi Xiaomeng entered, she bowed slightly to Cheng Cheng Shengen'en inside, then closed the door and left.

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en nodded and waved to Shi Xiaomeng standing before him: "Come on, Xiaomeng, sit down."

Shi Xiaomeng sat across from him and said, "Uncle, hello."

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en chuckled and poured Shi Xiaomeng a cup of tea: "Actually, we're not strangers—I remember you came over to my house for dinner with Wu Di and Fatsi last time, right?"

A seasoned veteran, he built rapport before getting to business, to reduce distance. After all, a chairman of a major Shangshi Company speaking to a junior, especially when his own son had broken ties with him—some wariness was only natural.

"Yeah, I remember you came home unexpectedly that day."

Shi Xiaomeng didn't know the hidden complexities; he just went along with whatever the man said. His main goal was to see whether Cheng Feng's father was truly as vile as Wang Ge claimed.

"I came back to Jingcheng early. If I hadn't, we might never have met."

Shi Xiaomeng chuckled. He didn't know how to respond, so he picked up his tea and took a sip. He'd been around Wang Yan long enough—he couldn't tell good tea from bad, but he could tell when it was worse. This one was average, definitely inferior to what he drank with Wang Yan.

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en didn't mind. He let out a long, forced sigh and said: "Xiaomeng, my relationship with Cheng Feng has always been troubled. Do you know that?"

"I know a bit." Remembering the gossip Wang Yan had told him, Shi Xiaomeng didn't want to waste time with small talk: "Uncle, what exactly did you want to talk to me about today?"

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en smiled gently, speaking with the affection of an elder: "Xiaomeng, how many years have you been in Beijing?"

"Since university—seven years now."

"You have no family or connections here. Those seven years must have been hard, right?"

"Not too bad."

"Did you solve your hukou?"

"No."

"What about housing?"

Housing was Shi Xiaomeng's happiest topic. He smiled: "I just secured a place—thirty square meters, small unit. I just paid the down payment; delivery's next August."

"No matter the size, owning a home means you've rooted yourself in Jingcheng," Cheng Cheng Shengen'en nodded, then asked: "How's your job? What are you doing now?"

"Fine. I'm learning at an internet company."

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en frowned: "Learning?"

Shi Xiaomeng explained: "The company is run by a brother I know. He took me under his wing and assigned a senior vice president to train me."

"I see." Cheng Cheng Shengen'en nodded. "What's your salary? Enough to live on?"

Shi Xiaomeng wasn't stupid. This old bastard was asking too many details—he'd play along. He grinned: "More than enough. My brother pays me twenty thousand a month—after tax. Social security and everything else are top-tier. And about your question on my hukou—my brother said he'll help me sort it out too."

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en subtly frowned: "Your brother really treats you well."

It had been a week already—he'd been around this long; he couldn't have been clueless. Wang Yan's affairs, Cheng Feng could tell Liang Junzheng—why not his own father? Later, he'd done a simple check on Wang Yan, so he had some understanding of him.

He knew Shi Xiaomeng worked at Wang Yan's company, but he didn't know the finer details—Cheng Feng knew, but hadn't elaborated. His probing questions were meant to precisely gauge Shi Xiaomeng's position and immediately overwhelm him.

But now this damn Shi Xiaomeng made 240,000 a year—after tax. At that level, honestly, he wasn't far behind some mid-level managers in their company. This was damn inconvenient…

Shi Xiaomeng had no idea what the old bastard was thinking. He just sighed wistfully: "Yeah, my brother really treats me well. He's my greatest benefactor—if not for him, I don't even know where I'd be now."

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en nodded, then shifted topic: "I heard… your girlfriend from home came to Beijing too?"

"Ah, yes."

Shi Xiaomeng thought: Here it comes—finally getting to the point. He braced himself. After all, this was a chairman of a major Shangshi Company—he still felt pressure facing him.

Cheng Cheng Shengen'en sighed deeply: "Good. Your career and love life are both stable now—much better than Cheng Feng."

"How could I compare to Cheng Feng? He has you as a great father."

"Ha. Great father…" Cheng Cheng Shengen'en shook his head bitterly, sipped tea to moisten his throat: "I invited you here—didn't you find it surprising?"

"Yeah, pretty surprising."

"Actually, I do have something I'd like to discuss with you." Cheng Cheng Shengen'en stared at Shi Xiaomeng: "Can you guess what it is?"

"Shen Bing?"

Shi Xiao Meng wanted to bring up the ad matter—he'd gotten a call from Sun Qiancheng saying the whole thing had landed his father in the hospital. But the words stuck in his throat and changed. This old Wang Ba had asked so many questions earlier; Shi Xiao Meng had a feeling Wang Ge might've been right. So he'd just cut the crap and see how far this old Wang Ba would go for his trash son.

"Indeed, clever," Sun Qiancheng said with a Ruzike Sect expression: "I know some of your story. You missed Huaqing by seven points, yet your grades at Jingda were among the top. And since joining Hu Shi Advertising, every project you handled was executed brilliantly."

"Xiao Meng, you're truly talented. But unfortunately, you were just short of opportunity. If you seize it, the words are simple: boundless prospects."

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"Thank you, Uncle, for your recognition," Shi Xiao Meng smiled. "But I think I've already seized this opportunity—after all, you just heard how my brother treats me."

"My favorite quote from the red-cap merchant Hu Xueyan is this: 'The wise seize opportunity; the saintly create it.' This opportunity isn't given to you by others—it's earned by yourself," Sun Qiancheng shook his head, speaking with gravity. "Xiao Meng, I hope you become a saint. All your brother has given you? To me, it's merely charity."

Isn't this pure, blatant lying? Wang Yan's treatment of him? Shi Xiao Meng knew it crystal clear—he saw the care, felt the equality. How could his good brother's mentorship turn into charity in this old Wang Ba's mouth?

He'd been around for years—he'd never heard anyone lend ten thousand yuan to someone they'd only met a few times, unless they were a second-gen like Sun Qiancheng relying on family. He'd never heard of anyone getting a seasoned, veteran Assistant Regional Commander manager to personally guide them.

And yet this chance of his—why isn't it opportunity? Why the hell is it charity? Can't people be nice to me? Did I eat your fucking rice? You really have no shame at all…

Shi Xiao Meng let out a long, cheerful sigh, suppressing the urge to scream and slap two big ones across the face. "Uncle, may I ask you something? How exactly do I become the saint you're talking about?"

"There's an opportunity right in front of you now."

"You mean Shen Bing?" Shi Xiao Meng sipped his tea. "Say it straight."

"Fine, I won't beat around the bush," Sun Qiancheng exhaled. "Xiao Meng, you know I have only one son—Sun Qiancheng. And over the years, I've failed him too much."

Here he was, chairman of a Shangshi Company, lowering himself to negotiate with a nobody he wouldn't even spare a glance for? But he didn't care much—compared to his own youth, what was this? Still, after so many years, he'd grown rusty.

Sun Qiancheng exhaled again, psyching himself up, dredging up the old feeling, and looked at Shi Xiao Meng across the table. "I haven't begged anyone in years, Xiao Meng. This time, Uncle's begging you. Can you help me? Can you fulfill Sun Qiancheng's dream?"

Shi Xiao Meng had prepared himself—he wasn't overly surprised, but he was impressed by how emotionally manipulative this old Wang Ba could be. The sheer audacity? He figured he ought to learn it.

He sipped his tea, staring fixedly at Sun Qiancheng. "Your son's dream… is for me to leave Shen Bing?"

"A father knows his son best. I know Sun Qiancheng too well—he's never been this serious in love before. This is his first time."

"Did he send you?"

"No, he knows nothing. And I don't want him to know," Sun Qiancheng said. "You've been friends for years—you know that if he found out about today's meeting, my goodwill could be completely misunderstood. So…"

Shi Xiao Meng picked up: "So you want me to bury this meeting deep in my gut?"

Honestly, if he's lusting after his friend's girlfriend, what does he even know about Sun Qiancheng? He figured even if Sun Qiancheng found out, it wouldn't matter—the key was whether it worked. If he got Shen Bing, Sun Qiancheng would just pretend to rage, then happily accept his father's "kindness." If it failed? His view of Sun Qiancheng wouldn't change. Probably this old Wang Ba would end up straight in ICU.

Sun Qiancheng nodded. "Yes. Promises are the foundation of all transactions."

"Transaction?"

"Transaction."

Wang Ge really is the real deal—winning from miles away. Of course, rich people understand rich people—they're all the same damn breed. So fucking disgusting. Uh… of course, his most beloved Wang Ge doesn't count.

"If it's a transaction, then there's a price. State your terms."

"You don't seem surprised."

Shi Xiao Meng sneered. "You just said a father knows his son best. But there's also: like father, like son. You know what Sun Qiancheng told me before? He said if I left Shen Bing, I could name any price—he'd give me everything he had."

Sun Qiancheng didn't mind Shi Xiao Meng's sarcasm—he smiled. "That proves he's serious this time."

"Enough talk. State your terms."

"Good, I like your directness." Sun Qiancheng raised his hand, palm open. "Besides this, I'll place you in Da De Group at a position no lower than Sun Qiancheng's."

Shi Xiao Meng frowned at the open palm. "Five hundred thousand?"

"Of course not," Sun Qiancheng shook his head. "Five million."

Shi Xiao Meng shook his head, silent.

"Too little?" Sun Qiancheng frowned at the greedy young man from a small city in Yunnan. "Xiao Meng, compared to your current salary of two hundred thousand a year, five million is wealth you'd never earn in twenty years without eating or drinking. And you must know—anyone above manager level at Da De doesn't just hold power—they hold company equity. So those who reach that position aren't close to success—they've already succeeded."

Shi Xiao Meng had shaken his head not because it was too little—he was just stunned, momentarily awed.

Honestly, he was tempted. But then he thought of Shen Bing's voice, her smile, of Wang Ge reaching out when he was in despair, of his conversation with Wang Yan before coming—he ultimately let it go.

He wasn't destitute. He had clear paths ahead. If he accepted, he'd betray Wang Ge's heartfelt efforts. Most importantly—just as Wang Ge said, his envisioned future included Shen Bing. Without her, what good was all the money? Would he become like Wang Ge? Like old Sun Qiancheng? Spending every day… wasn't that exhausting? Annoying? Meaningless?

Inside, he felt shame for even entertaining the thought.

Shi Xiao Meng sipped his tea, steadied himself, and shook his head. "Uncle, you've overthought this. I'm not that kind of person—I don't trade feelings. Give up this idea. I've said what I needed to. I'm leaving."

Saying this, Shi Xiao Meng stood and walked out.

Sun Qiancheng jumped to his feet. "Ten million, Xiao Meng! Millions live their whole lives without earning ten million. Just say yes—this fortune, coveted by countless people, is yours."

Hearing this, Shi Xiao Meng paused at the door. He didn't turn back. Didn't speak. Then walked out, as Sun Qiancheng shouted after him in frustration.

Shi Xiao Meng walked steadily out of the teahouse. Once beyond its grounds, he broke into a full sprint.

He ran until he was out of breath, until his strength gave out, then collapsed onto a flowerbed, gasping. Shaking, he fished out the long-stored cigarette from his bag, lit it, and puffed it with trembling hands…

He had to run—he feared he'd crack, feared regret, feared disappointing so many, and above all, feared a future without her.