Chapter 931: A Daunting Mission

Zhou Andong understood: “You want me to figure out how to buy sugar on the international market without paying too much.”

“Exactly,” the old man said, looking at Zhou Andong, his expression turning serious. “This is a daunting task. If you pull it off, you’ll have done a great service.”

“Whether I get great credit or not doesn’t matter,” Zhou Andong frowned. “This is really not easy. If we buy in large quantities, prices will definitely rise.”

“That’s why it’s a daunting task,” the old man lifted his teacup again and fell silent.

Zhou Andong’s brow tightened further; Jian Qiu crossed her arms and paced back and forth in place.

Time slipped away slowly. After more than ten minutes, Jian Qiu stood before Zhou Andong.

“We can’t handle this ourselves—we need to find a partner.”

Zhou Andong had smoked several cigarettes in a row; his mouth tasted bitter. He crushed the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.

“You’re right. To get this done, we need a partner. And not only must we buy back the sugar—we must make a hefty profit too.”

The old man perked up: “Spend less and still make money?”

“Yes!” Zhou Andong looked at the old man and suddenly smiled. “Grandpa, if you’re interested, you could invest a bit too.”

The old man became curious: “How do you plan to make money?”

Zhou Andong thought deeply, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the sofa armrest: “Go long on sugar futures.”

The old man was tempted but still hesitant: “Are you sure?”

Zhou Andong shook his head: “Futures trading carries the highest risk. No one can guarantee profit.”

The old man stood, walked to the window, stared at the darkening sky outside, and remained lost in thought for a long time.

“No certainty at all?”

Zhou Andong tapped his head: “Seventy percent.”

The old man sat back down, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his drawer, lit one, and smoked slowly, puff by puff.

“I can provide fifty million U.S. dollars.”

“That’s too little!” Zhou Andong said. “If you want to eat meat, you have to be willing to invest.”

“This fifty million is state money. I can’t give more,” the old man smiled. “You eat the meat; the state will be happy just to sip the broth.”

Despite his high rank and power, the old man dared not touch too much foreign exchange. Profit was fine; if they lost, he couldn’t answer for it.

“Fine!” Zhou Andong stood up. “Get the money ready as soon as possible. I’ll find a partner in the next few days.”

The old man asked curiously: “Who are you going to partner with?”

“The Sugar King of Singapore,” Zhou Andong said. “Only he can buy raw sugar without drawing attention.”

The old man’s eyes lit up: “Gu Tangwang has deep feelings for our country and strongly supports our reform and opening-up.”

“Grandpa,” Zhou Andong said, “you’ll need to handle my passport and visa for Singapore.”

“No need to go to Singapore,” the old man thought for a moment. “I’ll contact Gu Tangwang myself. Have him come to Xiangjiang. Meet there—it avoids suspicion.”

“Alright!” Zhou Andong agreed. “Find out when he’s free, and I’ll go over then.”

With the matter settled, the old man felt as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted. “Dongzi, this is up to you now.”

Zhou Andong smiled: “Grandpa, don’t worry. Unless I don’t want to do it, if I do, I’ll give it my all.”

The old man walked up to Zhou Andong and clapped him firmly on the shoulder. “I have great faith in you.”

Outside, Gu Minglan and Zhao Ping were chatting, but their ears were tuned to the study.

Hearing the old man’s laughter now and then, Zhao Ping finally relaxed.

“Second sister-in-law!” Zhao Ping picked up an apple from the coffee table and bit into it. “Dongzi is truly impressive. Look how many times the old man has laughed in just a few minutes—he must be very pleased with this son-in-law.”

Gu Minglan sniffed, her face still cold, but inwardly she had accepted Zhou Andong—she just couldn’t show it.

“I said what I said. Words spoken are water spilled. Since Zhou Andong met the requirement, I can’t refuse.”

“That’s right,” Zhao Ping crunched loudly on the apple. “With Dongzi this capable, you, as his mother-in-law, should feel proud. Even I, as his aunt, benefit by association.”

“The day before yesterday, at work, I told a few colleagues that Zhou Andong is my niece’s husband. You wouldn’t believe how envious they were. Even the hospital leadership came to me, asking me to ask Dongzi for some special-edition Yu Gong wine.”

“That won’t do!” Gu Minglan immediately objected. “Yes, Dongzi is chairman of the group, but the special-edition Yu Gong wine has fixed quotas—only a tiny amount is produced each year. You can’t promise it.”

“Pfft!” Zhao Ping burst out laughing. “Look, look! You keep talking about how great Zhou Andong is, but deep down, you’re still doting on your son-in-law.”

“I dote on him?” Gu Minglan insisted. “I’m just worried about my daughter.”

Zhao Ping shook her head helplessly. “Keep denying it.”

At that moment, the study door opened. Zhou Andong and Jian Qiu stepped out, both smiling.

“Finished talking?” Zhao Ping asked.

“Finished!”

Jian Qiu answered, plopped down beside Gu Minglan, wrapped her arm around her mother’s, and rested her head on her shoulder.

“Mom, I have something to tell you.”

Gu Minglan instantly tensed: “What is it?”

“I’m going to tell you, but don’t get angry,” Jian Qiu warned her mother first.

Gu Minglan’s heart leapt to her throat: “What else could possibly make me angrier?”

“Mom!” Jian Qiu pouted, shaking her mother’s arm. “If you don’t promise, I won’t say it.”

“Stop, stop, stop!” Gu Minglan groaned, dizzy from the shaking. “If you keep this up, I’ll fall apart. Say it—I won’t get angry.”

Jian Qiu studied her mother’s face carefully: “I’m going to say it. You have to keep your word—no anger.”

“Go ahead!” Gu Minglan snapped impatiently. “Why so slow?”

Jian Qiu glanced at Zhou Andong, then whispered: “I’ve already registered our marriage with Dongzi.”

“Registered? Registered is fine—it has nothing to do with…” Gu Minglan’s words cut off as she shot to her feet. “What did you say?”

“See?” Jian Qiu pulled Gu Minglan back down. “I told you not to get angry, and you still did!”

A daughter quietly marrying a man without telling her mother—how could a mother not be furious?

“Huff, huff, huff…”

Gu Minglan breathed deeply, forcing herself to calm down.

Zhao Ping stared, dumbfounded, at Jian Qiu and Zhou Andong. These two kids had too much nerve—marriage was a major life decision, not something to rush into so carelessly.

At that moment, the old man stepped out of the study.

“What’s going on?”