Chapter 22: Treat a Dead Horse as If It

After Xia He and the others left, Song Qingdong and Luo Yan got into a Mercedes.

“Old Wang, take Luo Zong home first,” Song Qingdong told the driver.

“Yes, boss.”

The car headed west.

On the way, Luo Yan said, “Boss, today’s meeting with Fang Qingye brought by Director Xia—I feel like he was just a shield.”

“I felt the same. Xiao Ye is my junior; some things I can’t say in front of him,” Song Qingdong chuckled.

“But clearly, Zhang Qunying didn’t know Fang Qingye’s connection to you—how did Xia He find out? How did she know Fang Qingye and Da Hai are close? Could Fang Qingye have told Xia He? That’s unbelievable,” Luo Yan said.

“None of that matters. Xia He achieved her goal,” Song Qingdong said, closing his eyes and leaning back, looking tired.

Luo Yan said nothing.

The things Song Qingdong didn’t say out loud—she knew them well.

For example, a 24-million-loan exceeds a branch manager’s approval limit; you can break it into smaller parts—assign three client managers at the branch to each issue 8 million independently, avoiding oversight.

We’ve done this kind of thing plenty before.

There’s also loan kickbacks.

Kickback methods vary: using part of the loan as deposits, buying wealth management products, purchasing insurance—this boosts bank performance and lets the handler earn extra commissions.

Of course, there are also “on-record” kickbacks and off-record hidden ones—for instance, approving a loan but demanding a higher interest rate, pocketing the excess above the bank’s rate, since there are so many tricks.

No matter how you twist it, these are violations, some even illegal.

Song Qingdong didn’t want Fang Qingye to know these gray-area practices—at least not from his own mouth.

Luo Yan fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, “Today’s dinner with Director Xia bringing Fang Qingye along isn’t entirely bad—it at least shows, from another angle, that Fang Qingye and Director Xia are very close, or that Director Xia highly trusts and values him.”

“As far as I know, the reason the Long Dragon Industries deposit loss case was resolved so quickly is because Fang Qingye played a decisive role—he subtly told Xia He it was actually a setup by Long Dragon’s CEO and Zhao Wenjun, which is why Xia He is so grateful to him and why their relationship is so close.”

“Oh… so you mean we should work on Xiao Ye—get him to advise Xia He again, try to push this matter through?” Song Qingdong opened his eyes and turned to look at Luo Yan.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

Song Qingdong closed his eyes and thought for a moment, then shook his head slightly: “It’s probably not that simple. Xia He may not listen to Xiao Ye. You help me, I’m grateful and value you—but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you sway my decisions. After all, Xiao Ye is just a young man with less than a year on the job.”

“But I still feel Xia He treats Fang Qingye differently—not just as a valued subordinate,” Luo Yan smiled.

“I can’t explain why—it might be a woman’s intuition?”

Song Qingdong looked slightly surprised, opened his eyes to glance at Luo Yan, then said after a pause: “Alright, I’ll talk to Xiao Ye. We’ll treat a dead horse as if it’s still alive.”

“Yes, boss. There’s one more thing,” Luo Yan added.

“What is it?”

“Yesterday I met Director Wu from the Development and Reform Bureau. He said the draft ‘Several Measures to Promote Healthy Real Estate Development in Nanxin County’ has been submitted to county leadership and will be released after final approval.”

“It includes preferential policies on land transfer fees and taxes, and one measure is actively resolving real estate companies’ funding difficulties by encouraging banks to issue loans.”

“That’s good news!” Song Qingdong perked up.

“Although major banks don’t take orders from local government, as the saying goes: even a strong dragon can’t overpower a local snake! With this document, every bank will feel pressure from the county… So after the holiday, I want to visit Secretary Zhang and County Chief Li to discuss our plans and push for the document’s early release. Luo Yan… you contact their secretaries first and schedule appointments.”

“Yes, I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

Meanwhile, after leaving Xia He, Fang Qingye took a taxi home, showered, then turned on his computer to get to work—finishing the numerical model programmed by the Dongguan girl, since there was 300,000 yuan at stake.

Of course, there was no need to stay up all night; he finished around 11 p.m., played a round of Warcraft, then went to sleep comfortably.

The next morning at eight, Fang Qingye got up, ate breakfast at a street stall, and thought about his schedule for the day.

Since he wasn’t going out to sightsee, he’d go fishing somewhere.

Before his rebirth, he’d loved fishing in Shanghai, but work was too busy—he only occasionally visited Daqian Ecological Manor to satisfy the urge.

This life, he had plenty of free time—he could enjoy it properly.

He didn’t have a car now, so he couldn’t go far; he decided to fish at the Daming Longyou River.

Should he buy fishing gear now?

He acted on impulse.

Fang Qingye rode his scooter home, then headed to a fishing store on Youyi Road, where he found spinning rods, sea rods, lure rods, stream rods, hooks, lines, bait—all with many brands.

Having fished before, he wasn’t a complete novice—he chose a TAIGEK lure rod and a Guangwei spinning rod, both carbon fiber.

Once everything was ready, he went to the supermarket, bought some bread and water for lunch, then rode his scooter out of the county, heading straight for the Daming Longyou River.

The Daming Longyou River lay just south of the city; in the future, it would become an ecological park, but now it was still undeveloped—a paradise for anglers.

Fang Qingye arrived at the riverbank, where several fishermen were already present. He found a backwater bend, set up his rod, sat on a small stool, and began fishing.

It was overcast today—perfect for fishing. Soon, he caught a carp about half a foot long.

Hmm… not bad…

A good start.

This place was ideal for fishing, though crowded—fishermen lined both banks. He’d heard the main channel near Wujiazhuang’s Jiaogang had more fish; some even caught softshell turtles.

But Wujiazhuang was far—nearly fifty li away; riding his scooter there wasn’t practical.

Looks like I need to buy a car…

I’ll wait until I make my first fortune from the stock market.

That morning, Fang Qingye caught four fish—decent haul. At noon, he walked along the riverbank, ate bread, drank water, and kept fishing.

But his luck turned bad in the afternoon; nearly an hour passed without a single bite.

No rush—fishing demands patience.

Fang Qingye stared at the water, watching the float suddenly dip.

A fish bit!

He snapped to attention—just then, his phone rang in his pocket, startling him badly.

Shit!

The fish got away!

Who the hell called now?!

Fang Qingye pulled out his phone—it was Song Da Hai. He answered, and the voice came through: “Xiao Ye, what are you up to?”

“Fishing!”

“When did you get into fishing? I didn’t know,” Song Da Hai sounded surprised.

“You don’t know a lot of things. Get to the point.”

“Damn! You’re in a bad mood? What’s wrong? Can’t catch anything? Is the fish teasing you?”

“Don’t joke—I was about to land a fish and your call scared it off. How could I be in a good mood? Just say what you want!” Fang Qingye snapped.

“It’s like this—my dad wants you to come over for tea this afternoon.”

“Your dad wants to invite me for tea?” Fang Qingye was surprised: “Never happened before. Why now?”

“I don’t know. He just told me to call you and invite you for tea this afternoon. When I asked why, he wouldn’t say,” Song Da Hai replied honestly over the phone.

Oh…

Fang Qingye suddenly understood why Song Qingdong wanted to see him now—it had to do with last night’s dinner.

He wants me to influence Xia He’s decision?

Fang Qingye decided to help—because of his bond with Song Da Hai, and because Song had lent him 200,000.

But he didn’t want to leave now—he was enjoying the fishing.

“Da Hai, I’m fishing right now. Can we move it to tomorrow afternoon?” Fang Qingye asked.

“This…?” Song Da Hai sounded hesitant.

“Da Hai, tell your dad it doesn’t really matter if I drink tea or not—he wants me to help with something, I’ll do my best,” Fang Qingye added.

“Huh? You know what he wants?”

“Yes.”

“Wait a sec—I’ll tell him.”

On the other end, Song Da Hai relayed: “Dad, Xiao Ye’s fishing now—he can’t come today. If you want tea, can we move it to tomorrow afternoon? He says whatever you want him to do, he’ll do his best—tea’s not necessary.”

“This kid’s sharp—he knows why I called him,” Song Qingdong praised. “But if we’re asking for help, we need to show sincerity. Tell him—fine, tomorrow at three.”

“Alright…”