Chapter 242: A Mountain of Financial Reports

The legend of the Ghost Mansion quietly fermented on the dark web, draping the New Era in an even more mysterious veil, invisibly deterring many covetous glances. Yet for Su Wenqian, who managed the core operations of the New Era, these external storms meant far less than the mountain of financial reports before her.

In the spacious office, the once-simple desk was now nearly submerged. Stacks of thick printed documents, alongside multiple floating screens scrolling with endless data streams, formed a suffocating digital world. These were the New Era's financial summaries for the past quarter, detailed resource consumption records, project budget execution status, and Su Wenqian's projected funding needs for several Special Acquisitions.

The upgrade of the Quantum Computing Array was a gold-devouring beast; its budget had barely passed halfway before consuming an astonishing astronomical sum. The construction of the Deep Space Mothership burned through thousands of credits daily—each special alloy component, each superconducting engine, cost enough to bankrupt a small nation. The Crowbar project had just achieved a breakthrough, but its subsequent research and potential equipment upgrades still demanded massive financial support.

Not to mention the newly approved Undersea Cultural Center, already under construction. Though its Phase One budget had been slashed, it remained a colossal expense. Add to that the daily operations of tens of thousands within the New Era—salaries, benefits, research funding, security expenditures—each item a stream feeding into this vast flood of expenditures.

Su Wenqian sat at her desk, brows furrowed, fingers swiftly switching between multiple screens, verifying one set of data after another. She needed to ensure the Master's grand plans remained unaffected by funding shortages, maintain the New Era's healthy cash flow, and simultaneously prepare sufficient "ammunition" for the upcoming Special Acquisitions targeting external rare mineral companies.

This was not merely managing money—it was like walking a tightrope, demanding extreme precision and audacity.

"Assistant Su, negotiations for the acquisition of the African 'Iridium Stone' mining company have hit resistance—the other side suddenly raised their price by thirty percent, citing 'strong international market demand.'" A subordinate from the Ministry of Finance reported via communicator, voice anxious.

"Tell them the price is negotiable, but we demand additional conditions: exclusive priority procurement rights and pricing authority for the next decade. Also, find out who's behind the price hike." Su Wenqian didn't look up, her voice calm.

"Understood!"

Just as she finished that, another report popped up. The team handling lithium mining "cooperation" in South America reported a local conflict had erupted at the target company's location, disrupting transport routes and delaying the scheduled delivery.

"Activate the backup transport plan—use Peru's secret port. The increased cost will be covered by emergency funds. Notify the Security Department to reinforce escort personnel." Su Wenqian made her decision swiftly.

"Understood!"

She was like a master chess player, simultaneously navigating financial gambits from every corner of the globe—each move determining whether the colossal vessel of the New Era could sail steadily forward.

Yet personal stamina was finite. After more than ten hours of intense work, even Su Wenqian's enhanced physical constitution and Spirit felt a flicker of fatigue. She rubbed her throbbing temples, her gaze sweeping over the endless pile of paperwork on her desk—a deep sense of helplessness occasionally washed over her.

The Master could casually approve projects consuming trillions of credits, plan far into the stars and seas, and wield unimaginable power to repel enemies from afar. Yet she? She was here, haggling over every credit, every ton of ore, negotiating with global merchants, warlords, and corrupt officials, ensuring every gear of this colossal machine received adequate lubrication.

This disparity sometimes left her with a strange sense of… grievance? No, perhaps not grievance—it was a deeper sorrow, the realization of the vast chasm between her own limits and the Master's grand blueprint.

She picked up her cold coffee and took a sip. The bitter taste gave her a slight mental jolt.

She could not stop.

The Master entrusted her with the burden of internal affairs and resources—this was absolute trust. She could not betray it.

She refocused her attention on the scrolling numbers on the screens, searching for better funding allocation schemes, or hidden details where expenditures could be cut.

At that moment, the office door was gently knocked.

"Enter." Su Wenqian replied, eyes still fixed on the screen.

The door opened. In came Xia Wan, the eldest daughter of the Summer Engineer. She carried a tray with a cup of steaming tea, emitting a faint, soothing fragrance.

"Assistant Su," Xia Wan's voice was clear and sweet, laced with just the right touch of concern, "I saw your office light still on, so I brewed you some calming tea. My mother said staying up late harms the Spirit—this will help."

Su Wenqian looked up in surprise, seeing Xia Wan, and offered a tired smile: "Ah, Xia Wan. Thank you." She truly needed a boost.

Xia Wan gently placed the teacup beside Su Wenqian's hand, away from the documents, her gaze sweeping over the mountain of reports and the dazzling data streams on screen. In her clear eyes flickered a subtle, unspoken understanding.

She did not leave immediately, but stood quietly beside her, watching Su Wenqian work.

Su Wenqian found it odd to be watched so intently, and was about to ask.

But Xia Wan suddenly spoke softly: "Assistant Su, the transportation cost amortization on page three, line seven—could be consolidated into the infrastructure project on page seven. That would save about 1.5 percent in tax expenses. Also, for the backup transport plan for the South American lithium mine—if you partner with Long Nation Ocean Group's Blue Whale, though freight costs rise five percent, they hold special transit permits for the region, saving at least three days of voyage time and corresponding security expenses. Overall, it's more economical."

Su Wenqian's electronic pen froze mid-air. She looked up, stunned.

How could a teenage girl possibly know these financial and operational details so precisely—and offer such professional optimization suggestions?

Xia Wan met Su Wenqian's astonished gaze with the same calm expression, as if she'd merely said, "The weather is nice today."

"I… used to watch my father review engineering budgets and logistics plans," she explained softly, bowing slightly. "I won't disturb you anymore."

With that, she turned and slipped out of the office without a sound.

Su Wenqian stared at the steaming calming tea, then at the direction Xia Wan had left, her heart stirred.

This girl… was truly not ordinary.

She refocused, recalculated according to Xia Wan's suggestion—and confirmed it: a significant saving, exactly as described.

This gave her a renewed spark of energy amid her exhaustion.

Perhaps, in this miraculous New Era, she wasn't alone in bearing the burden of this mountain of financial reports.

She took a deep breath and returned to her battle with the numbers.

For the Master's New Era, no matter how many reports piled up, she would carry them all.