Chapter 396: Don

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Li Ye opened the door and met Fu Zhiman's gaze with a smile.

Seeing Li Ye open the door, Fu Zhiman immediately spoke, stating her purpose.

"I'm here today to discuss business."

"Oh."

Li Ye looked at Fu Zhiman and couldn't help but smile, for the girl had tightened her small face into a rigid expression, desperately trying to appear righteous, as if afraid Li Ye would bring up "If you have spirit, don't come back."

Li Ye didn't pick at her wounds; he politely stepped aside to let her in, yet the complex smile on his face struck Fu Zhiman as painfully sharp.

A child of twelve or thirteen is in a period of extreme emotional sensitivity—how much psychological resilience can they possibly have?

So within just a few seconds, the "presence" Fu Zhiman had struggled to build began to crumble.

"Zhiman, what are you doing standing at the door? Come in! Did you come alone?"

At that moment, Fu Guiru stepped from the bedroom to the doorway and welcomed Fu Zhiman inside.

"The driver brought me. I told him to wait outside."

Fu Zhiman took a breath and stepped across the threshold of what had once been "her home."

After entering, Fu Zhiman sat stiffly on the sofa, facing her former adoptive mother, opening and closing her mouth several times without knowing how to begin.

Instead, Fu Guiru, studying Fu Zhiman's pale face, asked with concern: "Zhiman, you look unwell—have you been feeling sick lately?"

Fu Zhiman froze for a moment, then slowly shook her head and whispered: "I'm fine physically, but Uncle Dong said my shares are being diluted—is that true?"

The woman who had just been concerned about Fu Zhiman's health suddenly grew grim.

Today, Fu Zhiman truly had come for business.

Fu Guiru's heart quickly steadied: "Yes, Pengcheng Red Bull is raising capital and increasing shares. I've already sent notices to all shareholders. You should ask Uncle Dong—or your mother."

Fu Zhiman stared blankly for several seconds. She knew Fu Guiru meant not her, but Fu Guiyin.

Fu Zhiman swallowed hard, voice trembling with grievance: "But Mama, won't you help me increase my investment? If you don't, my shares will be diluted—I'll become a minor shareholder."

The word "Mama" pierced some hidden spot in Fu Guiru, softening her slightly.

"I don't have that kind of money. I can't fund your increase. But even after the capital raise, you'll still hold over six percent of Pengcheng Red Bull—your dividends alone will cover your education."

Malayan Fu Corp's investment in Pengcheng Red Bull made it a major shareholder; Fu Zhiman's original twenty-some percent had been diluted to roughly eighteen percent. Now, with Li Ye restarting the capital increase, she was down to six percent.

Yet even that six percent would bring her continuous dividends—more than the total profit of the parent company in Malaysia.

But Fu Zhiman was clearly unsatisfied. She blurted: "Mama, you can get me a loan! Banks on the mainland approve loans easily—if you guarantee it."

Fu Guiru frowned: "This capital increase is massive. I can't guarantee it—I'm still financing my own four percent."

Fu Zhiman stared at Fu Guiru, face twisted in despair: "Then… am I just going to be slaughtered?"

Fu Guiru fell silent for a long time, then replied sharply: "Who told you that? The capital increase only concerns Pengcheng Red Bull—not Fu Corp."

Malayan Fu is still Fu Corp. Its stake in Pengcheng Red Bull has simply decreased. Compared to before, your returns haven't dropped—they've surged. How is that being slaughtered?"

Fu Zhiman was stunned by Fu Guiru's sharp questioning. At twelve or thirteen, how much economic knowledge did she possess? Her mind was filled with rehearsed lines—she couldn't possibly handle Fu Guiru's impromptu rebuttal.

"Cough, cough—I'm familiar with this issue."

Li Ye and Fu Yiruo had been sitting quietly beside them, watching like spectators, but now Li Ye decided he should help Fu Guiru clarify her position.

"Our Chinese family mindset differs from the Western one. Western families are distant—parents and children don't feel indebted to each other. But we Chinese are different."

Li Ye fixed Fu Zhiman with a cold stare: "In our culture, many children grow up believing their parents owe them everything—they carry an infinite IOU signed by their parents, ready to demand payment at any moment."

"For example, when a child wants to study art as a kid but the parents don't support it, later, when the child fails in life, they blame their parents for ruining their future. But do they ever ask: Did their parents even have the money to fund that art education?"

Li Ye turned to Fu Guiru: "Do you have the money to fund this Mr. Fu's capital increase and maintain his share ratio?"

Fu Zhiman was dumbfounded. She stared blankly at Fu Guiru, then at Li Ye, and only then did emotion flicker back into her eyes.

It was boundless hatred.

Why does this guy always ruin my plans? Why is it always him?

But Fu Zhiman didn't notice that after she showed that hateful gaze, Fu Guiru's expression had changed too.

Li Ye is my own son. What are you trying to do to him, you little brat?

Fu Guiru closed her eyes. Seconds later, when she opened them, her gaze was clear and cold.

"Zhiman, go talk to Uncle Dong and your mother. I can't help you with this—and I have no right to."

Fu Zhiman's hair was soaked in sweat. Finally, she blurted: "But Uncle Dong told me to come ask you. My mother told me to come to you. They said you can't cut the bridge after crossing it—you can't forget your debt of gratitude."

It was moral blackmail.

Everyone in Johor knew Fu Guiru was a woman of loyalty and righteousness—so some believed moral blackmail would work twice as well on her.

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But Fu Guiru looked at Fu Zhiman and said nothing. She rose and dialed a phone.

She first called Malaysia long-distance, demanding sharply: "If I don't have proxy authority over the shares, why should I resolve Zhiman's dilution issue?"

"You want to profit without investing—do you expect me to conjure money out of thin air? Have I been too kind these years, making you forget you're a servant?"

"I, Fu Guiru, won't spend my whole life serving parasites. Be satisfied!"

When the second master of the Fu family died, he split his shares in two: a large portion to his daughter Fu Guiyin, a small portion to his grandson Fu Zhiman.

Although Fu Guiru was Fu Zhiman's nominal adoptive mother, Fu Zhiman's shares had nothing to do with her—they were managed by a loyal old servant, Uncle Dong.

Every time Fu Guiru made a decision, Uncle Dong generally supported her.

This was actually the second master's balancing mechanism: to let capable Fu Guiru lead Fu Corp, while preventing her from seizing its power.

But Li Ye's arrival disrupted this balance—first, the bond of blood, and second, Pengcheng Red Bull's explosive success, making Fu Guiru now look down on the modest assets in Malaysia.

Fu Guiru called Fu Guiyin again, but no one answered.

Fu Guiru returned, face dark, and said coldly to Fu Zhiman: "Zhiman, ownership of your shares has never been in my hands—I can't help you."

"But your mother holds sixteen million Ringgit—enough in USD to cover your capital increase quota."

"If you wish, have your mother pay to preserve your shares. Pengcheng Red Bull is valued at ten million USD, with a two-million-USD capital increase—this is already a premium."

"To retain any percentage, just invest the corresponding amount."

"Also—"

Fu Guiru looked at Fu Zhiman, utterly calm: "Also, from now on, don't call me Mama. You can have only one mother. I raised you for thirteen years—I've repaid my debt to Second Uncle."

Fu Zhiman didn't remember how she walked out of Fu Guiru's house. She only felt that in the past ten minutes, she'd lost something—her body hollow, her soul numb.

"Zhiman, where are you going? Get in the car!"

The driver who brought Fu Zhiman wasn't alone—her biological mother, Fu Guiyin, was there too.

Fu Guiyin pulled Fu Zhiman into the car and bombarded her with questions.

"How did it go? Did she agree to guarantee your loan?"

"Did you ask for a bigger loan? To buy more shares? Your eighteen percent is still too small."

"What's wrong? Speak!"

Fu Zhiman slowly came back to herself, turning her head like a machine toward Fu Guiyin.

"Mama, you have money, right? You can help me keep my shares, right?"

"Mama, say something! You can help me, right?"

"My money… isn't much anymore."

"Your money isn't enough? Then who did you spend it on?"

Fu Zhiman's eyes widened in fury: "You spent it on that guy named Ai, didn't you? I've seen you buy him designer brands, luxury watches, even a car—what have you bought me?"

"What do you know?"

Fu Guiyin, irritated by her son's questions, snapped: "My money is mine to spend however I want! Besides, I'm playing a long game—"

Fu Guiyin cut herself off mid-sentence, realizing the driver was a stranger, and didn't finish "fishing for suckers."

But Fu Zhiman, quick-witted, said: "Right! Play a long game to catch a big fish! You can get Mr. Ai to pay for me—he's a famous billionaire from San Francisco!"

"Then let's go back and try. Zhiman, don't say anything foolish—learn to address people properly. Call him Uncle Ai."

Li Ye, Fu Guiru, and Fu Yiruo stood behind the window, watching Fu Zhiman's car drive away, unaware of Fu Guiyin's conversation with her son.

But Li Ye felt his greatest gain from coming south to Pengcheng was eliminating Fu Zhiman—this poison that hadn't yet fully festered.

"Brother, how could someone so young become so mercenary, so selfish?"

Fu Yiruo stared at the departing car, her voice thick with bitterness.

Li Ye smiled: "Now he faces two choices: be good, or be bad. If the rewards of being bad far outweigh those of being good, how firm do you think his conscience is?"

Fu Guiru sighed, wrapping her arms around Li Ye and Fu Yiruo—one on each side.

"We're the real family. Let outsiders go their own way."

(End of Chapter)

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