Chapter 360: Chen Guobin: Huizhen, I was wrong—it

Chunshen, front entrance of Guobin Bookstore.

Chen Guobin carried a bucket of water, a car-washing towel draped over his shoulder, scrubbing a black BMW X5 until sweat steamed off his body.

"Brother Bin, you've got a two-million-yuan BMW now—still wash it yourself?"

Wang Tuzi from the photo studio next door, holding a handful of sunflower seeds, cracked them as he chuckled teasingly.

"The car was bought by my son—I pay for the washing myself. Save where you can, spend where you must."

Chen Guobin replied loudly with a smile.

"Brother Bin, I'm not saying this to be rude, but why save money? To buy your son a house and a wife? Does he need it?"

Wang Tuzi pressed with a grin.

Buy a house and a wife for Xiao Sen?

Chen Guobin froze, his hands stopping mid-motion, a wave of inexplicable gloom surging in his chest.

It's no good having a son too accomplished—he made tens of billions in U. S. dollars in two years, and my own bank account of hundreds of thousands isn't enough to buy him two tires.

Old Chen swallowed hard, then choked violently, bursting into a fit of coughing, his face turning red.

Wang Tuzi rushed over, patting his back, puzzled: "What's wrong? Got that excited?"

Over the past year, every processing plant owner for agricultural and sideline products within ten miles had treated Chen Guobin like a "Supreme Emperor," coming frequently to curry favor—with tea, cigarettes, rice, or vegetable oil.

Farmers on Beishan brought whole crates of crisp pears, grapes, yellow apricots, and peaches during every festival.

You couldn't refuse them!

They'd just drop them off and run!

Chen Guobin couldn't cook and couldn't finish it all, so he gave it away to nearby shopkeepers.

That's why Wang Tuzi now called him "Brother Bin"—he used to call him "Old Chen."

"Nothing, nothing—just choked a little," Chen Guobin caught his breath, waving his hand.

But he soon fell into confusion.

Chen Yansen was his greatest emotional anchor—when his son was young, he worked to buy formula; when his son studied, he worked to pay tuition; when his son entered high school, he saved to buy a house.

All his life, besides Liang Huizhen, his son was his only hope.

But with Wang Tuzi's reminder, Old Chen suddenly realized: Chen Yansen no longer needed him.

Holding onto this bookstore now seemed meaningless.

At that moment, Chen Guobin's mind held only the image of a girl in a linen dress, smiling like a blooming flower.

"Chen Guobin, we're married!"

"Brother Bin, I'm pregnant—I'm scared, what do I do?"

"Let's name our son Chen Yansen—easy to say, beautiful meaning."

"Brother Bin, save me…"

As he thought, two clear tears slid down Old Chen's cheeks.

Huizhen!

Chen Guobin raised his arm, wiped his tears, his mouth involuntarily drooping; he exhaled deeply, forcing back the sorrow deep within.

Instantly, Old Chen lost all desire to keep washing the car.

He packed up, pulled down the bookstore's roller shutter, and drove toward the salt company's residential area.

"Brother Bin, not working today?" Wang Tuzi called out, bewildered.

Back home, Chen Guobin picked up Liang Huizhen's photo frame, packed a few clothes, opened the door, went downstairs, and sped onto the highway.

On the other side.

Tang Lixin, upon receiving the message that Chen Guobin had "run away," frowned tightly, fearing he might never return, his heart in turmoil.

"Boss, should I call Mr. Chen?" Assistant Zhao Siyuan suggested.

"Do it. No matter where he goes, send someone from the inspection office to follow him—safety first."

Tang Lixin's anxiety over Chen Guobin surpassed even his concern for his own father.

Zhao Siyuan quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Chen Guobin.

"Duuu… duuu… duuu…"

The prolonged ringing for over ten seconds made Tang Lixin increasingly agitated.

"Hello, is this Secretary Zhao? What's up?" Chen Guobin asked casually, wearing a Bluetooth earpiece.

"Old Brother Chen, I brought two cans of new tea from Guniujiang, but your bookstore was closed."

Zhao Siyuan lied with wide eyes, probing.

"Oh, Secretary Zhao, you're too kind—no need for tea. I'm traveling far today—to Xu City to see my son."

Chen Guobin replied honestly.

See his son?

Tang Lixin's tense nerves eased slightly.

He smiled faintly, returned to his rosewood desk, and resumed his usual calm demeanor.

As long as he doesn't run, everything's fine.

Last year, under Chen Yansen's support, Chunshen's agricultural and sideline products generated over three billion yuan in annual sales, creating nearly ten thousand new jobs countywide, and raising farmers' incomes on Beishan several-fold.

The county's GDP rose 33.6% year-over-year!

Last week, at a city meeting, superiors specifically praised his 2012 achievements.

Having tasted the sweetness, he naturally clung tightly to Chen Yansen's leg.

Meanwhile, Chen Yansen, squatting by the pond feeding fish, received a call from his security team.

"I understand. Just follow behind—thank you for your hard work," Chen Yansen said, immediately giving instructions.

Did Old Chen lose his mind?

At his age, still playing spontaneous trips?

After hanging up, he muttered under his breath.

After all, he was his biological father; Chen Yansen wasn't as heartless as he pretended.

Privately, he still assigned a team of security personnel to guard Old Chen.

An hour later, the security team confirmed again: Chen Guobin's destination was most likely Xu City.

Chen Yansen didn't think much of it—let Old Chen come if he wanted. As a good young man of the twenty-first century, he had no secret vices to hide.

Thinking of this, he turned back to the living room and locked away his cosplay outfits—Pikachu, the Gourd Boys, Teletubbies, Hongmao, and Niuwang—into the safe on the third floor.

Now it was completely safe! Chen Yansen squinted, smiling with satisfaction.

"Come to Sanjiaozhou."

After finishing everything, Chen Yansen sent a text to Ye Qiuping.

Neither he nor Old Chen could cook, so they needed a chef.

"Are you going to wear the Six Dolls cosplay?" Ye Qiuping replied.

"Change the theme today. Buy a chef's uniform, and don't forget the hat."

Chen Yansen replied instantly.

"Chef? New scenario?" Ye Qiuping froze, involuntarily pressing her thighs together as a tutorial video flashed in her mind.

Kitchen? Wouldn't that be too hard?

Ye Qiuping didn't dare ask more. When passing by Huamao Mall, she obediently bought a pure white chef's uniform.

At three in the afternoon, a black X5 slowly entered the Sanjiaozhou villa district.

"Wow! This kid's personality must've come from someone—he's good at making money and just as good at spending it."

Following the route planned by Gao De Maps, Chen Guobin took not a single detour; after registering at the gate, he drove into the compound.

No. 108!

Three minutes later, Chen Guobin spotted a standalone villa in the distance, with a number plaque at the entrance.

Hearing the noise outside, Chen Yansen didn't get up—he lay on a soft couch beside the pool, idly scattering fish food.

His technique looked like he was feeding pigs.

Song Yuncheng had once warned him: Feed less! You've turned your koi into koi-pigs!

Chen Yansen didn't care—he liked plump fish.

"Tap-tap-tap—"

Old Chen knocked on the wooden door.

"The door isn't locked." Chen Yansen rolled over; his voice was soft, yet it reached Old Chen's ears with perfect precision.

Chen Guobin, holding a photo frame, strode into the courtyard.

Chen Yansen glanced casually, smiled inwardly—he hadn't expected Old Chen to actually bring Mom along.

As soon as Old Chen stepped in, he saw Chen Yansen lounging like Ge You, and immediately wanted to say something—but then he thought: What's the point?

Before eighteen, Chen Yansen never listened to him; after eighteen, he never listened to him either.

So Old Chen didn't even greet him—he took Liang Huizhen on a tour, smiling as he muttered to himself: "Huizhen, your son bought a huge house—much bigger than ours. Look, he's even keeping pigs in the water…"

"Pah! Huizhen, I misread—it's fish, not pigs! This brat feeds fish like pigs!"

"Oh, this living room is huge—you'll love it…"

Chen Yansen lay on the couch, listening to Old Chen's rambling, and couldn't help but smile.

As Old Chen wandered, he reached the kitchen door. Since the rooms were so large, he mistook it for a guest room and was about to step inside when he ran straight into Ye Qiuping, who was just coming out.

"Who are you?"

"I should be asking you—who are you?" Ye Qiuping shot back.

She'd just arrived and had been shoved into the kitchen by Chen Yansen instead of the bathroom.

Before she could prepare, Chen Yansen said: "Five dishes and one soup—no need to overdo it. Ingredients are in the fridge. Figure it out yourself."

Ye Qiuping laughed bitterly—wait, you really think I'm your maid?

"I'm Chen Yansen's father. You're the chef, right?" Chen Guobin thought the woman looked absurdly young for a household chef, but maybe she was talented.

Chen Yansen's father?

Ye Qiuping studied Chen Guobin carefully—their facial features were indeed three or four percent alike. Her heart leapt, but remembering her role, she forced herself to say: "Mr. Chen, I'm Chief Chen's personal chef."

"Oh, then carry on."

Chen Guobin had not the slightest suspicion and led Liang Huizhen around for more sightseeing.

To give Old Chen an immersive role experience, Ye Qiuping had carefully chosen an extremely professional chef's uniform—highly convincing.

Thus, Chen Guobin noticed nothing unusual.

Ye Qiuping watched Old Chen's muttering back and rushed into the courtyard, running up to Chief Chen and asking: "Your dad came—why didn't you tell me ahead of time?"

"Why should I tell you ahead of time?" Chen Yansen looked genuinely curious.

"..." Ye Qiuping regretted it—why didn't she buy an extra pack of rat poison?

"My mom came too—should I have told you that as well?" Chen Yansen added.

"Your mom came too?" Ye Qiuping's pupils shrank, stunned.

"Yeah. In my dad's arms." Chen Yansen answered honestly.

"..." Ye Qiuping suddenly remembered the photo album in Chen Guobin's arms, then gave a weak, exhausted eye roll.

She could never outwit Chen Yansen!

She slumped and went to cook.

In no time, Chen Guobin, who had gone for a walk, came back and said to Chen Yansen, "Call Meng Jie over for dinner. Let your mom meet her."

"Next time. You're hugging my mom—don't scare the young Miss," Chen Yansen refused without hesitation.

"Uh, that's true too. Sigh, my fault for being too impatient." Chen Guobin pulled over a chair, sat beside the pool, and stared blankly at a few fat-pig-like koi.

"Do you like this house?" Chen Yansen asked.

"Too big. Tiring to live in," Chen Guobin commented.

Chen Yansen gave a rueful laugh. The villa he had bought Chen Guobin in Chunshen was three hundred square meters; the one before them now was five hundred—quite a bit larger indeed.

"How about I buy you one, so my mom can have a change of scenery too?" Chen Yansen asked again.

"No need. I'll head back after a couple of days." Old Chen shook his head.

"What about New Year's?" Chen Yansen frowned.

"I'll keep your mom company back in the old hometown." Old Chen said firmly.

"Fine, up to you." Chen Yansen patted his backside and turned into the kitchen.

Old Chen didn't bother with him, and he wouldn't take the initiative to meddle in Old Chen's life either.

The next morning, Apple Asia-Pacific Managing Director General Manager Ge Yue arrived at Zhuxianzhuang Tech Park with seven or eight people in tow.

First, to negotiate the architecture licensing of the Sister Chengzi z1 instruction set; second, online sales channels were taking up an ever-larger share of shipments, so Pinbei could not be overlooked.

(End of chapter)