Chapter 279

"Dad, you've seen the factory—give me your answer already."

Su Mingcheng felt helpless; after visiting the factory, his father hadn't uttered a word on the way back, locking himself in his room and refusing to respond when called. This turned his earlier excitement into unease—was there no hope left?

In the bedroom, Su Daqiang sat on the small bed, his face twisted in conflict, gripping his phone tightly—he was genuinely nervous. After all, this investment carried high risk. Though he'd seen the facility in person and confirmed the personnel and equipment were real, he had no experience, and this money was his life savings—he couldn't make a decision so easily.

Outside the door, Su Mingcheng continued: "Dad, I admit I'm usually irresponsible, but this time it's real. How could a son ever cheat his own father? It's a guaranteed profit with zero loss—how many people would kill for this chance? Now it's landed on us, you absolutely must seize it, Dad."

"Think about it: dividends every three months, capital returned in a year. If things go well, maybe nine months—or even six. After that, it's all profit, growing year after year. Dad, then where would we still live like this? We'd have to move—into a big villa. And my car? I'll buy you one. You don't know how to drive? No problem—I'll hire a driver, and we can go anywhere we want. We won't cook at home anymore—we'll eat out every day. If that's not enough, we'll hire a chef to come cook for us daily. Dad, can you imagine what kind of life that would be? Dad, just give me a clear answer!"

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Su Daqiang wiped his sweaty hands, stood up, opened the door, ignored his son who nearly fell, and sat down on the sofa. He didn't want a villa. He didn't want a luxury car. He just wanted the six-million-yuan house—and to live in it comfortably.

"Is this investment really reliable?"

"Oh come on, Dad, it's absolutely real. I'd never lie to you. You've seen it yourself, plus Manager Zhou guaranteed it, and they already have shareholders. Think about it, Dad—if it weren't profitable, why would Manager Zhou bother arranging this? Why would he invest? And the others—could they all be fools? They're all putting real money in. Just relax—I guarantee you won't lose a cent."

Su Daqiang grunted, glaring at his second son: "Don't say it's foolproof. All investments carry risk. Be cautious. What if you lose money?"

"How could we lose? We'll make big money." Seeing his father's expression, Su Mingcheng sighed and said: "Dad, if you're still worried, here's the deal: this money counts as my loan. I'll pay you back principal plus interest—just one percent higher than bank rates. How's that? Then you've got zero risk—all risk falls on me."

Su Daqiang pondered, turned his head, picked up the remote on the coffee table, and turned on the TV.

Frustrated, Su Mingcheng had no way to deal with his father. After a moment's silence, he understood the root of the problem and declared firmly: "Dad, here's another idea: if we profit, this money counts as your investment—you get your share of dividends. If we lose, then it's my loan to you—still one percent above bank interest. What do you say?"

Su Daqiang put down the remote, and under Su Mingcheng's confused gaze, returned to his room. After rummaging around, he pulled out paper and pen and placed them before Su Mingcheng: "Write down everything you said."

"What? Dad, you're being too formal. Back then, keeping accounts was fine, but now you're making it official? Come on." Though he complained, Su Mingcheng happily picked up the pen and began writing.

"Even brothers must settle accounts clearly—how much more so between father and son? Otherwise, if we lose money, who will I cry to? That's my life savings."

"Pfft, Dad, stop talking about life savings and losing money—it's bad luck. You should say 'fa fa fa'—we're about to get rich, about to live well." As he wrote, Su Mingzhe asked: "Dad, how much are you investing? I'll tell you—the more you put in, the more you get back. The bigger the investment, the bigger the dividends."

"One hundred thousand. Isn't there room to add more later? I'll start with one hundred thousand and see how things go—if we profit, I'll invest more."

"Dad, the more you invest upfront, the bigger your share. If you wait to add later, it won't be as favorable. Seriously, I'm not lying. I remember you and Mom had twelve thousand left. Earlier, Fan Lili and I paid back ten thousand. Then while you were in America, we sent you another fifteen thousand—that's over twenty-three thousand. You've been living with us, and Fan Lili and I cover all your expenses, plus we give you fifty yuan daily. You still have over four thousand in pension. Dad, why are you hoarding so much money?"

Su Daqiang shook his head: "I'm investing only this much. If you say another word, I won't invest at all." He could dawdle with others, but when others dawdled with him, he couldn't stand it—he was annoyed.

"No no no, one hundred thousand is fine—just wait for your dividends and big profits, Dad." Su Mingcheng quickly filled in the number and signed his name. Though one hundred thousand was still far short of what he needed, it solved a major problem. The rest? He could sell a car. He and Zhu Li had savings too—thirty thousand was easy.

Su Daqiang looked at the paper, nodded, signed his name, handed one copy to Su Mingcheng, and the agreement was settled. He then used his mobile banking app to transfer one hundred thousand to Su Mingcheng. Back in his room, he carefully stored the simple contract, humming happily as he stepped out. He needed to meet Old Nie for a walk—to show him who the real tough guy was…

On Su Mingcheng's end, after receiving the money, he planned carefully and without hesitation sold his car. His vehicle was still the same modified Jeep Wrangler from the original plot, but this time he'd bought a much better one—after all, Wang Yan had given him fifty thousand. Originally, he'd sold it for 170,000, but that price was inflated. This time, he sold it for 250,000—still not quite fair, since his modifications cost a lot. But since resale value dropped fast and he needed cash quickly, he accepted the unfairness.

Now, with Su Daqiang's one hundred thousand added, he had 350,000—more than enough for his needed 300,000. But since he had 350,000, why not 400,000? As he'd said: the more you invest, the greater the return. So finally, Su Mingcheng gritted his teeth and secretly took five thousand from his and Zhu Li's savings, pushing the total to 400,000. The next day, he happily handed it to Manager Zhou, signed the contract, and after all this effort, the big matter was finally settled.

Including this five-thousand withdrawal and the earlier ten-thousand repayment to Su Daqiang, the total was 150,000—five thousand more than in the original plot. Of course, this was thanks to Wang Yan's fifty thousand. Though the money he'd taken from Zhao Meilan had all been spent, it was plausible that he and Su Mingyu had saved a little over the years.

With the matter settled, Su Mingcheng showed Su Daqiang the signed contract. The two happily waited to collect their money. Naturally, they kept the secret—told no one about it, not even Zhu Li.

Friday, after dinner, the family of three went out for their usual evening walk. The little girl held her father's left hand and her mother's right, giggling as she swung on the swing.

Su Mingyu had returned to work. Over the past month, Meng Zhiyuan had purged the company of all the disruptive people. With those distractions gone, her work naturally flowed smoothly—she was much less busy.

In the original plot, Meng Zhiyuan had planned to purge his wife and her family, but because of shared marital assets, he'd been forced to stop—and had asked his most trusted person, newly returned Su Mingyu, for help. So while she'd been idle these past weeks, she'd also been deeply disgusted. But again, it was Liu Qing who had devised the plan—recently, she'd made progress and was nearly finished.

"Linlin, tomorrow Auntie and Xiao Mi are coming. Are you happy?"

"Happy!"

"But I'm warning you now—when Xiao Mi arrives, don't corrupt her, got it?"

Wang Lin blinked her big eyes, looking innocent: "I'm a good girl. How could I corrupt Xiao Mi?"

"Don't lie—if you hadn't taught her to cry, why would she cry like that?"

"She's a kid—crying sometimes is normal. Every day, all the kids in our kindergarten cry. Especially Xiao Fang—she cries the loudest."

Seeing the little girl deny everything, Su Mingyu was about to scold again, but Wang Yan stopped her: "Xiao Mi cried so hard at home trying to come see you that she got sick. When she arrives, you play nicely with her—don't bully her, understood?"

"Okay, okay." Wang Lin nodded quickly. She hadn't expected Xiao Mi to be so extreme—she'd cried herself into the hospital just to meet her online friend. She felt a little guilty. But she couldn't help resenting: Xiao Mi was too stupid—she didn't know how to manage time properly. When they met, as an older sister, she'd have to teach her well—couldn't let her be so naive.

Wang Yan turned to Su Mingyu beside him: "What time are they arriving tomorrow?"

"Around nine in the morning—by high-speed train."

Wang Yan nodded: "I'll go with you to pick them up. We'll have lunch together. After that, you two take the kids out to play—I'll go to the company lab."

He did this to avoid complications. After all, he was the only man, and they were a widow and her child—his presence alone was enough. Let the women talk among themselves. More importantly, he'd grown indifferent to such matters. Though he had plenty of energy, romantic involvement was optional—not something he needed to chase.

But speaking of romantic matters, we must mention Su Mingyu. For Wang Yan to have built Long Teng into what it is today, it was impossible for Su Mingyu to have complete trust in him. Never mind anything else—just look at Meng Zhiyuan, that old bastard. From a small company to his current scale, he'd been playing around with countless women daily—how could Su Mingyu not know? So if she thought about Wang Yan—the boss of a company far bigger than Zhong Cheng—what kind of temptations must he face every day?

But Wang Yan had skillfully maintained family harmony: he cared well for his daughter, and Su Mingyu had never seen, heard, or found the slightest trace of anything suspicious. So she chose to ignore this factor threatening family unity. She didn't throw tantrums. She didn't create trouble. That was her wisdom.

Even if Su Mingyu didn't fully understand his intentions, she understood how exhausting it must be for him to be stuck with two women and two children. She also knew that though he seemed idle, he actually had plenty on his plate—so she nodded in agreement.

The next day, Wang Yan naturally woke up early, but Su Mingyu and Wang Lin slept until they naturally awoke. By the time they got up and ate breakfast, it was already past eight. After watching cartoons at home, they estimated the time was right, got in the car, and Su Mingyu drove them to Gusu Station to pick them up.

Not long after, the family of three waiting at the exit saw Wu Fei emerge—one arm holding the child, the other carrying a small bag.

"Sister-in-law, over here."

Unable to see, Wang Lin perched on Wang Yan's shoulders waved enthusiastically: "Auntie! Xiao Mi!"

Wang Yan's height was 184 cm—unremarkable in the bustling station, but not invisible. Add Wang Lin's extra few dozen centimeters, and she towered over two meters. Wu Fei spotted the unmistakable Wang Lin from far away.

Wu Fei approached, set the child down, and politely said: "You went out of your way to pick me up—I could've just taken a taxi." As she spoke, she nodded to Wang Yan, who had just placed the child down.

"Nonsense—you came all this way to visit us, of course we'd come pick you up," Su Mingyu smiled. "Let's skip the formalities—get in the car. First, come home for a drink. We've already booked a restaurant—we'll eat lunch, then head out to play this afternoon. How's that, Sister-in-law?"

"I leave it to your discretion—I'm just grateful for the trouble you've taken." Wu Fei pulled Xiao Mi close. "Come on, Xiao Mi—you've been begging to come. Say hello."

Xiao Mi smiled shyly: "Auntie, Uncle, Sister!"

"Come on, Xiao Mi—come to my house and play with my toys." The little girl grabbed Xiao Mi's hand and pulled her straight into the car.

"Linlin is so lively—unlike our Xiao Mi."

"Oh, she's just used to being rowdy. Let's go—talk in the car."

On the way back, Wang Yan drove quietly, Su Mingyu sat in the front passenger seat, and Wu Fei and the two chattering children sat in the back. After exchanging compliments—"You're even prettier than in the videos"—Su Mingyu pointed out landmarks outside the window, accompanied by the children's innocent chatter, until they arrived at the villa by Jinji Lake.

Getting out of the car, Wu Fei looked at the villa and the lake beyond, and sighed: "Such a beautiful house, in such a great location—it must have cost a fortune."

Su Mingyu smiled faintly: "We bought it early—got a good deal. Sister-in-law, come inside, have a drink." She knew Wu Fei was being polite, but there was no need to elaborate—after all, the vacant villa by Yangcheng Lake was even more luxurious, and she didn't care. Besides, Wu Fei had lived in America—her houses there were bigger. No point in showing off.

The group entered the villa, first taking Wu Fei to the room prepared for her and Xiao Mi to drop off their things. Wang Lin dragged Xiao Mi to her room—they'd sleep together tonight. Wang Yan followed the two women downstairs and chatted with them in the living room.

Wu Fei took a sip of water and sighed: "This place of yours is really nice—nothing beats being at home."

Su Mingyu smiled and said: "You could always bring Xiao Mi and settle down in China." Though they'd only known each other a short while, their recent contact had been especially close, so there was no awkwardness—only natural ease.

"How easy do you think it is?" Wu Fei chuckled bitterly and shook her head. "You say we've spent so many years abroad—was getting a green card easy? All our youth, sweat, and exorbitant taxes were poured into American soil. We finally secured our green cards, established ourselves in America—and now you want us to leave? Not just colleagues and classmates would laugh at us; even our parents who sent us abroad, relatives and friends, siblings—they'd all look down on us."

"So people like us, Chinese expats in America, have no choice but to puff up our chests, cling on desperately, never speak ill of America, let alone think of returning home. Whenever someone asks how life is in America, we can only say it's great—and praise it endlessly. It's meaningless."

Wang Yan had already thought this: Wu Fei was clear-eyed, practical. Her words rang true. Of course, things have two sides—this perspective only makes sense now, when China is surging forward at breakneck speed and America's lies are gradually being exposed. Back in the eighties and nineties, if Wu Fei had said this, it would've been unthinkable. Her understanding ultimately depended on China's prosperity and strength.

Fortunately, she hadn't gone off track. After all, faced with huge disparities, people are two-faced: some stay silent and endure, others wildly flaunt their existence.

Wang Yan asked: "So what are you planning for the future? Still going back to America?"

"Yes, what are your plans going forward?"

Wu Fei glanced at Wang Yan. She'd only seen him twice on video calls, exchanged a few words, knew he was a teacher, a rich second-generation who inherited his family's fortune after both parents died—nothing else. Now seeing him in person, she found him quite pleasant. Not strikingly handsome, but naturally appealing, uniquely so.

"I haven't decided yet," Wu Fei said, shaking her head. "But I can't stay in China indefinitely. I can't just abandon the green card I worked so hard for."

"So you're still going back to America. Then how will you handle Xiao Mi? You'll be alone overseas, working—you won't have time or energy to care for her. If you leave her behind in China, turning her into a left-behind child—can you bear it?"

"Of course I can't bear it! That's exactly what's tormenting me. On one hand, my marriage failed; on the other, staying in China means being looked down upon, losing the hard-won green card, and leaving Xiao Mi behind—I don't know what to do."

The atmosphere grew heavy. Su Mingyu shot Wang Yan a glare, blaming him for starting this.

Wang Yan was deeply wronged. Even if he hadn't asked, these two women would've reached this point anyway—and within three sentences. He'd merely spoken first, and now they blamed him.

Actually, Wu Fei's dilemma was simple to solve: money. If she didn't want to give up her green card but still wanted to care for her child, all she needed was to enter America periodically. In the end, it came down to her lack of funds. Round-trip flights cost over ten thousand yuan; frequent flying plus living expenses were manageable short-term thanks to her divorce settlement in USD—but long-term, after covering those costs, she'd need savings for her child's growth. In China, she'd almost certainly never earn enough. She couldn't afford it.

Or she could simply become rich—then she wouldn't have to endure ridicule from relatives and friends, and wouldn't need to go abroad at all. After all, in her current situation, who wouldn't rather stay by her parents' side as a cherished daughter than flee ten thousand miles across the ocean to suffer?

Of course, none of this was his concern. Meeting Su Mingyu's irritated gaze, Wang Yan, the master conversationalist, shifted gears effortlessly. In a few sentences, he steered the topic toward cheerful subjects—and when the two women began discussing skincare and beauty routines, he slipped away, heading upstairs to let the two girls drag him into play.

After lunch at a decent restaurant, Wang Yan said: "I won't be joining you—I've work at the company. Mingyu and Linlin, you two take care of them. Linlin, be a good hostess to your sister. Make sure you show proper hospitality." As he spoke, he glanced at his daughter sprawled on her chair, basking in post-meal bliss.

Wu Fei smiled faintly and nodded. In this short time, her impression of Wang Yan was excellent. Whether in behavior, speech, wisdom, or interpersonal skills, he was top-tier. He spoke humorously and knowledgeably—able to discuss skincare, health, early childhood education, and more, all while attending to her and Xiao Mi. Over lunch, they laughed nonstop, and without realizing it, she'd eaten far more than usual. As for her daughter, the smudged face beside Wang Lin told the whole story.

She even felt a pang of envy for Su Mingyu—how had she found a man like this? Compared to Su Mingzhe, he was garbage… How had she ended up with such a man? How had she landed in that family?

Long after the divorce, she understood fully: Su Daqiang's decisive, irreplaceable role in her divorce from Su Mingzhe was truly that of a good father…

"Dad, you're going to the company?" Hearing her father speak, Wang Lin sat up straight, wiggling her little butt.

"What is it?"

Wang Lin beamed: "I told Xiao Mi I'd take her to play with Pang Long and Pang Teng. Let's all go together—we can show her all the fun stuff too."

"Pang Long" and "Pang Teng" were the two pandas kept in Long Teng's headquarters park. Wang Yan had no idea where his mother got that name—he, as CEO, had no naming rights. Somehow, "Long Teng" just stuck to those two chubby little guys. Of course, Wang Yan wasn't a naming fanatic—he'd been too slow. Even Wang Lin hadn't gotten to name them before the names were locked in.

Actually, the pandas had been named when they arrived. But no one cared, so the names were quietly replaced. Wang Yan didn't bother interfering—and as a result, the names of the pandas' offspring were chosen by employee vote.

Bored developers had even built a feature into Long Teng's internal app to track and share updates about the panda family. Over a hundred thousand Long Teng employees checked it daily—view counts were enormous. Later, employees shared videos and photos from it on external social media—and naturally, it went viral.

Eventually, responding to public demand, Long Teng funded the development of a nationwide app for endangered animal conservation. It didn't just feature pandas—zoos and conservation groups across China uploaded updates on protected animals, wild and domestic alike. It was a good deed, contributing to endangered species protection. Now, it had expanded globally, listing detailed information like names and origins. Around this, an entire industry had grown—minor, but successful.

Before Wang Yan could respond, Su Mingyu smiled warmly at Wu Fei: "Let's go together then. Besides, it's right by Taihu—we can take a boat ride on the lake."

Wu Fei nodded: "Whatever you say—I'm fine with anything."

"Then let's go." Wang Yan stood up and left.

"Let's go!" Wang Lin jumped off her chair and helped the less agile Xiao Mi. The two little girls ran after Wang Yan.

Su Mingyu and Wu Fei exchanged a smile, stood up, grabbed their small bags, and followed behind, calling out to the girls to slow down.

Wang Yan drove again, occasionally breaking the silence with a joke or a playful comment to the two girls. Soon, the Long Teng headquarters building appeared in view.

Wu Fei stared at the bold, flowing characters "Long Teng" ahead and gasped, eyes wide: "Wang Yan, is this your company?"

Of course she'd heard of Long Teng. Even Xiao Mi had taken Qiang Shen Wan—not bought abroad, but mailed to her by her parents after being purchased in China, saving the middleman markup. In America, the price was over five thousand USD per bottle—nearly 40,000 RMB—so hard, who cares if you buy it or not.

No wonder Wang Yan never went abroad—it'd be suicide… America's top-middle and high-income groups all wanted to kill him—and they were America's backbone, its most loyal buyers of genuine medicine…

Of course, Wang Yan was innocent. After all, America was the world's beacon, full of high-income people. And he strictly followed his pricing standard—no discrimination. In China, it was 12,000 RMB, based on two months' average salary. In America, the same…

Hearing Wu Fei's exclamation, Wang Yan smiled and shook his head: "I just hold a little equity. Can't say it's my own company."

"Equity?" Wu Fei stared at the calm man driving ahead and chuckled bitterly. "That's Long Teng—even a tiny share means more money than you could spend in a lifetime. You two are really low-key."

"Pfft, rich or poor—it's still just living your life. Same thing, same thing," Su Mingyu laughed. "He's still a teacher. Gets up early every day to tutor the kids. Nothing different."

Wu Fei offered a polite, awkward smile. You play your humble act—I'll play my polite smile. Fine. She didn't flip her expression—she was old enough to know the basics. Flip your face, and there's no future. This family was clearly low-key, didn't need her kissing up. Whether she had ulterior motives or not, this relationship had to be preserved—she had to stay natural.

At the company, Wang Yan summoned a female assistant to show them around, then left directly for the lab to join his project.

The perspective shifted to Su Mingcheng's home. Zhu Li, a CPA-certified financial officer, was highly sensitive to her finances.

Since deciding to repay the debt, Zhu Li and Su Mingcheng mostly spent their days at home, scrolling on phones or watching TV. She occasionally studied and improved; he played games sporadically. It was harmonious.

Today was a day off. Su Daqiang had gone out for a stroll. Zhu Li lay on the sofa, watching TV while scrolling through her phone. She habitually opened her mobile banking app—each time she saw the number, she felt a small thrill. But that small joy had turned into responsibility, thanks to her father-in-law's ledger.

Thinking of the 400,000 yuan owed, she watched the ad timer on her phone expire, then skillfully logged in and tapped to check her balance.

The next second, Zhu Li rubbed her eyes, double-checked the number, sat up sharply, eyes wide, heart pounding, and opened her transaction history…