[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-shadow-empire":3,"chapter-the-shadow-empire-the-shadow-empire-chapter-89":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Shadow Empire",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2267709,4428,"Chapter 89: Saying What You Owe Me","the-shadow-empire-chapter-89",89,"\u003Cp>When you first visit your girlfriend’s home and meet her father, and he asks if you’re nervous, how do you answer?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nervous?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why nervous?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Not nervous?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Why not nervous?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No matter how you answer, it only invites more questions, and every single one is hard to answer—slip up once and you’re done.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans glanced at Patricia in the dining room and replied, “Not nervous.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He turned back to Mr. Lawrence, “If you truly love someone, and you stood in my position, you’d understand my heart is filled with courage.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I will overcome every obstacle and bring her home.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The only thing that makes me nervous is losing her.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But that same fear fills me with courage, because I know I will reclaim her!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mrs. Lawrence laughed until she couldn’t breathe, leaning over to whisper softly to Patricia, “Has he always been this good with words?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mr. Lawrence glanced at his amused wife and daughter, feeling that Lans’s answer was too… practiced. “How many girls and their fathers have you said this to?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans met his gaze without flinching, “You and Patricia are the first. I swear it before God.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the Federation, eighty percent of people are believers—swearing before God is a serious matter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked at Lans, and Lans looked back calmly. In this world, it truly was his first time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That calmness loosened Mr. Lawrence’s stance. “You can call me William.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A good shift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Patricia rushed to the bathroom, laughed for a moment, then returned with flushed cheeks—she felt happy, right now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mr. Lawrence began asking about Lans’s recent circumstances.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I heard you were sold into a black factory as a child?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had investigated— for a government official, checking a commoner’s identity was effortless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for so-called privacy protections, they were just for fooling ordinary taxpayers— even high-taxpaying citizens couldn’t be fooled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No one understood what this country and government were truly like better than they did.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans repeated all the old stories, and Mr. Lawrence listened intently. “How do you plan to handle your relationship with your parents and your sister?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You haven’t lived together in years. I’m sure you understand what I mean—you’re strangers, yet family.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Federation citizens place great importance on family—it’s become an instinctive label for judging a person’s character.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you maintain good family ties, even if you do something wrong, people will think it might have been an accident.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if you fail to maintain family ties, even if you always do good, they’ll believe you’ll eventually do something terrible.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ll try to integrate, but I won’t force us all to be perfect. I’ll take full responsibility for everything I owe. That’s all I can do for now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At least it was a passable answer. Mr. Lawrence changed the subject. “I heard from Patricia you registered two companies?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes. One is a financial consulting firm, the other a labor agency.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He briefly explained the businesses and their legitimate income streams. Mr. Lawrence’s expression softened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he was a Federal Party member, he understood the Social Party’s policy—centered on developing modern industrial economy—was correct. Capital becoming this nation’s god was inevitable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans had money. Whether he contributed to society or to their family didn’t matter yet— at least it wasn’t a bad thing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Naturally, they turned to the recent anti-immigration movement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans didn’t delve deeper on the issue, showing just enough sympathy for immigrants. Mr. Lawrence said nothing, but clearly, he was satisfied with Lans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, it was time to eat. Mrs. Lawrence had already opened the wine—top-grade cognac wasn’t that special, but Mr. Lawrence loved it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The dinner was lavish—clearly, Mrs. Lawrence was an excellent homemaker, at least in cooking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In just one meal, Lans had built a full, compelling image of himself: abandoned as a child, rose through self-reliance, found his way home, endured trials, and ultimately succeeded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He called his meeting with Patricia “God’s design.” The devout Lawrence couple approved wholeheartedly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From now on, they couldn’t find much fault with Lans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The hosts and guest were all pleased.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After dinner, Lans didn’t linger. After a brief rest, he politely asked to leave. Mr. Lawrence naturally agreed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After watching Lans depart, Mrs. Lawrence was satisfied with his performance at the family dinner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Witty, humorous, intelligent, sharp, and handsome—his appearance matched the era’s ideal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She teased her husband: “You’re not worried anymore, are you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mr. Lawrence sighed heavily, helplessly. “On the contrary—I’m even more worried.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As to what exactly, he’d have time to explain to Mrs. Lawrence. Sometimes being too excellent wasn’t a good thing. He hesitated, unsure how to face this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The next morning, while Lans was at the office, Elvin knocked on the door. “Something?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans gestured for him to sit. Elvin took a sip of water. “Guess who came?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who?” Lans handed him a cigarette. Elvin expertly lit Lans’s first, then his own.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Your old boss, Johnny. He came to borrow money.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans was surprised. Elvin briefly recounted what he’d learned. After hearing it, Lans found it unbelievable—how unlucky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d always assumed the apprentice would endure until the end. He never expected that after he left, the apprentice would strike Johnny hard— he even suspected the apprentice had reported Johnny for tax evasion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Few people knew his real income—only a handful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans had planned to wait until Sean got his law license, then have him visit Johnny to practice— as thanks for past kindness. But now, it seemed too late.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans considered it. “I’ll receive him myself.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s exactly what I thought,” Elvin smiled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, Johnny sat dejected in the office. He’d visited three other financial firms—they all offered only two thousand, with high interest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t afford it. He couldn’t repay it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Today, the lawyer came and told him: through connections, he’d obtained the tax bureau’s demands—they sought to recover ten years of unpaid taxes plus penalties, totaling ten thousand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The court would approve the tax recovery. The only room for negotiation was the penalty amount.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But no matter what, he had to raise the money quickly—this case would likely be decided on the spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After judgment, enforcement would begin. If he didn’t pay, and missed the deadline, the tax bureau would apply to auction his real estate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The situation would worsen—and they’d add late fees.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d approached three financial firms. Their rates were far higher than banks, with much steeper interest. He had no options left—only came here out of desperation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The receptionist looked vaguely familiar—he’d seen him somewhere, but couldn’t place him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man said such large transactions required the manager’s approval, and asked him to wait.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>While waiting, he thought of many things, all ending in a helpless sigh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the door opened. He stood up quickly, turned—and saw Lans.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans wore an expensive suit, the air of a successful man. “Again, Johnny.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny stared blankly, uncertain. “You… here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans sat in Elvin’s chair, facing him squarely. “I’m the manager. I heard you’re in trouble?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny, who had just stood to leave, paled and flushed. “Yes. I need money urgently.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans smiled, idly playing with a desk ornament. “Money is never the problem. But what will you guarantee to repay it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Know this—your bread-making skill is worthless here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny’s face flushed. His bread-making skill was his greatest pride—he’d spent his life proud of it!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But now, he couldn’t even argue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans didn’t let up. “You don’t agree? How much is your skill worth, Johnny? Five? Ten? Twenty?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How much would other financial firms or banks pay you for it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Tell me. Whatever they offer, I’ll add twenty percent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny stayed silent. His face flushed, then paled, then flushed again—he knew his skill meant nothing at the bank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t take it anymore. If it were someone else, he might endure it. But it was Lans!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you want to humiliate me, you’ve succeeded. But only once!” He stood to leave—he’d had enough!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Lans blocked his escape. “I’ll give you three thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny, already standing, slowly sat back down, staring at Lans’s half-smile.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You want to leave?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny paused. “My ass hurts.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans burst out laughing. “Find a better lie, Johnny. This isn’t a bakery—nobody likes your nonsense!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He laughed for a long while. “Now, say it: your bread-making skill is worthless.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You don’t have to. But you know—it’s three thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny wrestled with himself. He wasn’t a good man, but in some ways, he held firm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But even his stubbornness couldn’t hold. In a broken voice, he said, “You win. My skill is worthless.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans gestured for him to hand over the documents.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans glanced at them and frowned. “You’re not mortgaging the bakery?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Johnny stared blankly. “I only need three thousand.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had a court-ordered payment in his bank account, plus his own three hundred—nearly eighteen hundred.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he borrowed three thousand from Lans, and squeezed every penny, he could gather five thousand in cash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That’s what the lawyer thought was a reasonable amount—possibly even less, since he only evaded taxes, didn’t deliberately flee them. The judge might reduce the penalty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He didn’t need to mortgage his bakery, and he wouldn’t mortgage it: “If you want my bakery, I’ll leave right now.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans considered for a moment. “Jonny, out of gratitude for the shelter you once gave me and for letting me eat, I’ll lend you the money.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonny couldn’t believe this was real!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared at Lans, eyes wide, regretting his past actions—even if only for a moment, for he’d soon forget them—but for now, he truly regretted them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How much interest did they charge you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonny thought back, hesitated, then lowered the interest slightly. “They offered me two thousand, but I have to pay back five thousand in six months.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Twenty-five percent interest is too high. I’ll lend you three thousand at eighteen percent monthly.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonny wasn’t good with arithmetic. “If I repay on time, how much will I owe you?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans quickly wrote a calculation on a piece of paper. “Six thousand two hundred and forty.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonny fell silent for a moment. “The interest is still too high—can you…?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No!” Lans replied firmly. “Jonny, others lend you two thousand and demand five thousand back. I’m lending you an extra thousand without charging extra interest.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Learn to be grateful. If you think the interest is too high, try somewhere else.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jonny clutched his head in anguish. “I don’t know, Lans!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans produced two contracts: one legal loan agreement, adhering to the Lianbangzheng Prefecture’s legal annual interest cap of twenty-two percent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The other was labeled “Financial Advisory Fee,” a charge beyond reasonable interest, designed to circumvent the Usury Law.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After filling in all blanks, he placed the pen and four copies of the contracts before Jonny. “Sign—or don’t. The choice is yours.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Looking at the two contracts, thinking of the Shuiwu Bureau hunting him, remembering his lawyer’s warning about late fees, he finally picked up the pen with pain and signed his name.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans called Elvin over, who took three photos of Jonny: one standing beside Lans holding both contracts, another showing the page marked “I voluntarily…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When done, Lans asked, “Cash or transfer?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Cash!” Jonny growled. Lianbangzheng Prefecture citizens had a special obsession with cash.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans quickly counted out a large stack of bills. Jonny counted again, then looked up at Lans. “It’s wrong. You’re eighteen short.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans smiled faintly. “You forgot—you owe me.”\u003C\u002Fp>",1886,"2026-06-19T21:10:27.799Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","722f70b05ef573e3e2834abb4976b6cd66f50dd2a2f15ec3be78045553398b42","the-shadow-empire-chapter-90","the-shadow-empire-chapter-88",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-shadow-empire-cover.jpg"]