Chapter 62: 061 The Financial Crisis

On September 9, Zhong Zhiling, the third-ranking executive of Guai Ai Network, returned to Shanghai, leaving the Beijing office under the management of the original market manager.

Similarly, Lu Haiying confirmed she would return to Jin Ling on the 11th.

Yu Xing has now clearly mapped out his timeline: until the Internet Conference, he will continue slow negotiations with Zhen Ai Network, Century Love, and Baihe Network; by September 23, he aims to finalize the deal.

At the same time, he took a short leave and planned to return to his hometown on the 14th to handle the family’s financial crisis.

Since entering September, Yu Xing had gradually started receiving calls from relatives: partly due to media reports analyzing the U.S. economic situation, and partly because people could no longer reach Yu Xuhui in the U.S., so they turned to him.

Yu Xing had not tried contacting the scammer senior since June, but the man still intermittently soothed investors—though the intervals between replies grew longer.

From a more detached, objective perspective, financial victims often deceive themselves.

Zhong Zhiling knew what his senior was going home to do, and he had also consulted on how to handle his own situation.

“Your family has little money—if you don’t ask, just keep going as is; if you do ask, at least you now have company shares as a safety net,” Yu Xing said, then asked, “Aren’t you feeling the same?”

Zhong Zhiling fell silent; his mood truly had changed.

Even under current conditions, the shortfall still couldn’t be fully made up—but the panic had lessened.

He recalled the despair that had spread from within his heart that night, and for a moment felt dazed, then replaced it with genuine gratitude toward his senior.

“Senior Yu, even though you always hold me back, I really...” Zhong Zhiling spoke sincerely, “Thank you so much.”

Yu Xing smiled but said nothing.

Zhong Zhiling stared at his senior’s expression and suddenly felt a flicker of suspicion. He ventured, “Senior Yu, don’t you remember you promised me you’d warn me ahead of time if anything came up?”

Yu Xing still smiled without speaking.

“Hey, Senior Yu, hey, you’re really my brother! Are you hiding something from me again?” Zhong Zhiling’s mind screamed—now he was truly alarmed. “We’re sworn brothers! Tell me! Is it Xiao Ying? Or selling the company?”

“Nothing at all,” Yu Xing said kindly. “Like you said, we’re sworn brothers—what could I possibly hide from you? Are you thinking about selling the company again? That’s why your mind’s racing?”

Zhong Zhiling was momentarily silenced, muttering, “What’s on my mind? I’ve got the least thoughts among the three of us...”

He now vaguely realized his girlfriend Lu Haiying seemed to have a natural talent for handling affairs and people.

Just as she’d said before, everyone prefers those around them to be “honest”—yet he himself hadn’t grasped this truth for two or three months.

Who’s the one who actually got the guaranteed postgraduate spot...?

Would he really have to start calling her “Director Lu” someday?

“Let’s just stay in touch by phone these days. This summer I didn’t go home like usual—my mom called me several times. Perfect timing, since our business is still stable.” Yu Xing gave a reason for returning now. “We can also talk about company matters.”

Zhong Zhiling grunted in agreement, bid farewell to his senior, and returned to his work.

Yu Xing slung his bag over his shoulder, grabbed the office key, and set off on his journey home.

His hometown was in Haiyan County, Zhejiang Province—in fact, it was closer to Shanghai than to Jin Ling.

A bus ride from Shanghai to his hometown took just over two hours; from Jin Ling, it took over four.

With headphones on, listening to music, Yu Xing watched the scenery recede outside and pondered the buyers’ attitudes.

This was his first startup, his first attempt to sell a company. From June to September, everything was new, everything a bold experiment. Though the company hadn’t accumulated much profit, in a short time he’d built a stage, put on a show, achieved monthly revenue exceeding a million, and presented the company—as the intended final product—to industry buyers...

Wasn’t this itself a perilous leap in cognition and practice?

At five p.m., Yu Xing arrived in Haiyan County. He didn’t take a taxi—he walked slowly toward home.

By habit, his father would be finishing work soon, heading to the market to buy groceries before returning to cook; his mother, depending on the day, might chat with other parents picking up children from school, but she’d be home no later than six-thirty.

This had been the family’s rhythm since childhood.

Yu Xing’s father, Yu Guosheng, worked at the county’s Agricultural Machinery Bureau; his mother, Chu Qiying, was a Chinese language teacher at Tianning Primary School. Had it not been for the financial losses, their lives might have remained peaceful.

As expected, Yu Xing waited less than fifteen minutes at the door before hearing his father’s footsteps climbing the stairs.

Yu Guosheng trudged up, hand reaching for his keys, then looked up and saw his son—whom he hadn’t seen in months. His surprise hadn’t faded before a smile broke across his face.

“You little brat! Why’d you come back? Why didn’t you call? Your mom said yesterday you weren’t even coming home this summer—you’ve got wings now!” Yu Guosheng’s voice boomed. He took two steps and gave his son a light punch on the shoulder.

“Got tired of hauling bricks. Came home to rest,” Yu Xing laughed.

As he opened the door, Yu Guosheng teased, “Hauling bricks? Is your school building a new dorm? Running short on hands, so they’re using students?”

“Just means working,” Yu Xing picked up his bag, unzipped it, and pulled out two packs of Liqun, tossing them onto the sofa. “Here, for you. Put them away.”

Yu Guosheng’s eyes lit up at the cigarettes. He dashed to the sofa, flustered with delight. “Why’d you buy cigarettes? That’s your living allowance—what are you spending it on? Where do I even put these?”

He was a long-time smoker, but for the past two years his wife had forced him to quit. He fully supported the decision, yet still sneaked a puff now and then.

“Put them in Mom’s closet. Out of sight,” Yu Xing suggested.

“No, no—she’s been planning to reorganize the closet these past few days.” Yu Guosheng paced, then tried to shove the cigarettes back into the bag. “I’ll stash them in your bag first—she won’t check your bag. I’ll take them to work tomorrow.”

As Yu Guosheng opened the bag, he froze—inside was clearly another pack of Zhonghua.

He turned to his son. “Who’s this one for?”

“For me,” Yu Xing said without blinking. “Been under pressure lately. Bought it on the street just now.”

Yu Guosheng’s expression changed. He smoked Zhonghua—soft Zhonghua—and gave his father Liqun?

And what did “bought it on the street” even mean?

Yu Xing saw his father’s expression and guessed his thoughts. “It’s reimbursable.”

Yu Guosheng shoved the cigarettes back into the bag, regaining his composure. “Oh, reimbursable? How much can you get back?”

Before Yu Xing could answer, both heard familiar footsteps coming up the stairs.

Yu Guosheng noticed the bag on the sofa and gave his son a look.

Yu Xing lifted the bag and placed it on the floor beside the sofa.

“Old Yu, Xiao Ying called me yesterday,” Chu Qiying’s voice came before she entered, then turned to joyful surprise: “Oh! Xingxing, you’re back!”

She hugged her son tightly.

Yu Xing was about to express his joy when his mother clamped a hand over his mouth.

“You’ve lost weight! You smell like smoke! Open your mouth! Let me see!” Chu Qiying had caught the strong odor of smoke, one hand pinching his lips.

Yu Xing grimaced, showing his teeth—still clean, no nicotine stains.

Chu Qiying saw nothing suspicious, and turned to scold her husband: “I told you to quit smoking long ago. You’ve made Xingxing watch you smoke since he was a child—what’s so good about smoking? Look how thin your son is!”

Yu Guosheng bore the unjust blame and shrugged. “I quit! I quit! Quitting smoking isn’t that easy. And smoking doesn’t make you lose weight—that’s drugs. Wait—”

He looked at his son, noticeably thinner than last time he’d seen him. Buying himself Zhonghua, casually smoking soft Zhonghua...

Yu Xing raised his hands. “Do I need a blood test and urine test just for coming home? I’ve just been busy—that’s why I lost weight!”

Yu Guosheng still believed his son.

“Old Yu, cook something good,” Chu Qiying said. She could cook too, but her food wasn’t as good as her husband’s. She pulled her son onto the sofa and smiled, asking about his summer without home.

Yu Guosheng glanced back every few steps, worried his wife would spot the bag right beside her.

“Look at your old man—he won’t say it, but see how much he misses you,” Chu Qiying remarked to her son.

Yu Xing couldn’t help laughing. “Yeah, I miss you both. Sometimes I can’t sleep at night, under pressure—I think of you two, wish I could come home right away.”

In Chinese families, emotion is often expressed subtly: “Have you eaten?” “Don’t overwork.” “Put on more clothes.” “Is it enough?” “Don’t stay up late.” Always good news, never bad.

Chu Qiying, suddenly hearing such direct words from her son, looked at his thin face, felt a pang in her heart, yet kept a stern expression. “Can’t sleep? Why didn’t you call me? If you miss us, just come home.”

“I can’t leave,” Yu Xing said seriously. “And pressure comes from problems that need solving. When the problems shrink, the pressure naturally fades.”

Chu Qiying felt a flicker of worry, wanted to ask but held back. She steadied her emotions and smiled. “I told your dad yesterday—I said our son didn’t even come home this summer, just holed up at school, always with his advisor. Is he becoming a son-in-law? Or does he have a girlfriend there and won’t come back?”

“Nope. If I do, I’ll tell you.” Yu Xing answered casually, then turned on the TV. The screen showed foreign news—specifically, the U.S. Treasury’s handling of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac.

He didn’t change the channel, just watched.

Chu Qiying had begun chatting about school, but gradually fell silent, watching the news, her mind turning to how to ask her son.

“Old Yu, Old Yu, go buy some soy sauce—we’re out!” Yu Guosheng called from the kitchen.

Chu Qiying rose, walked toward the kitchen, then emerged with an unnatural expression and went out to buy soy sauce.

When she returned with the soy sauce and sat back down, the TV news had switched to domestic topics.

“You never used to like news,” Chu Qiying remarked. “You’ve really grown up. And you’ve lost weight—you must eat properly, no junk food!”

She remained fixated on her son’s weight loss.

“Dad’s bringing out the dishes. I’ll make up for the weight I lost this summer,” Yu Xing laughed. “Alright?”

He rose to carry the dishes from the kitchen.

Yu Guosheng cooked efficiently: two cold dishes, three hot ones, and a pot of soup.

“Son, have some?” Yu Guosheng poured a glass of wine and offered it.

Chu Qiying shot him a look.

Yu Xing smiled and shook his head.

The family began dinner.

But before they’d eaten two bites, Chu Qiying’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, stood, and went to the bedroom to answer.

“Your aunt’s call?” Yu Xing asked when his mother sat back down.

Chu Qiying grunted, said nothing more.

Yu Guosheng sipped his wine, heard the TV mention the U.S. again, and feigned indifference. “Things in the U.S. aren’t looking good. Hey, Xingxing, how’s that American senior of yours?”

Yu Xing chewed slowly, swallowed a sip of soup, then put down his chopsticks and answered plainly: “He ran away.”

Yu Guosheng’s hand holding the wineglass trembled.

Chu Qiying’s face darkened instantly.

The air in the small dining room seemed to thicken.

After a pause, Yu Guosheng asked slowly: “What do you mean, ‘ran away’? Isn’t his family from Jin Ling? He’s not coming back? Did you lose contact with him?”

Yu Xing didn’t answer his father’s question. He spoke plainly of his own situation: “This summer, my junior and I started a company. Our goal was to earn money to deal with this financial crisis.”

Yu Guosheng slammed his wineglass onto the table. “What exactly happened with the financial scheme? How could that senior run off? And you started a company? With your brain...”

Chu Qiying glanced worriedly at her husband, reluctant to have such a tone right after their son returned—but ordinary matters were one thing; this was a family emergency—and it was his place to speak.

Yu Xing continued on his own: “Three companies want to buy our company; the highest offer is 1.3 million.”

Yu Guosheng’s words were cut off; the storm brewing in his throat suddenly sank, crushed into rubble by the voice in his ears.

His son’s words were easy to verify, and there was no reason to lie at a moment like this.

This…

Yu Guosheng grunted, then asked instinctively: “R-really? Uh, with your brain—you’ve always been quick-witted since you were little…”

Yu Xing sighed: “But I didn’t sell.”

Yu Guosheng shot up on his feet: “Are you lying? What company can sell for over a million after just a short time! I think you’ve gone…”

Yu Xing went on: “I plan to attend the Internet Conference in Jin Ling on September 23rd, hoping to sell the company for two million.”

Yu Guosheng sat back down, feeling the wine he’d drunk was far too strong—he felt dizzy, staring blankly at his son: “I think you’ve gone… gone mad with cleverness…”

Yu Xing pulled out his phone, scrolled to the text messages with the buyer, and handed them to his worried mother. Then he fished a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, offered one to his father, lit it for him, and lit one for himself.

He took two puffs: “Dad, your son is healthy and clear-headed. I’ve been busy with the company these past three months. Even if I don’t get two million, I should at least get a hundred grand.”

Yu Guosheng smoked in silence, then leaned over to his wife to read the messages together.

They stared for a while, saying nothing.

After a long pause, Yu Guosheng questioned: “Just these few texts? That’s not strong proof—anyone can send texts.”

“Dad, go to the study, use the computer to search ‘Guiai.com’—Tencent and Sina both ran reports on the company and me, and NetEase covered it too—I don’t know if they’ve deleted it.” Yu Xing spoke calmly.

Yu Guosheng immediately got up and went to the study, typing the search terms letter by letter with his index finger.

Soon, he saw Tencent’s report: “From Medicine to Business: A College Student’s Startup Aims for Millions.”

The company was Guiai.com, founded by Yu Xing, with a background as a first-year graduate student at Jinling Yike University…

It matched—everything matched!

Yu Guosheng walked out of the study dazedly, nodded to his wife, who was waiting anxiously—maybe, perhaps, it was true…

The couple sat together on the chair, staring fixedly at their son.

Their faces held astonishment, disbelief, confusion—but the faint worry that had lingered before was gone.

Yu Xing lit a second cigarette, tossed one to his father, and smiled slightly—this was exactly what he wanted to see! This was what he couldn’t wait a single second for!

Yu Guosheng lit his cigarette too, lost in quiet thought.

Chu Qiying finally snapped out of it, her expression shifting: “Yu! Did I give you permission to smoke?!”

Yu Guosheng quickly extinguished it: No harm done, no harm done—I already finished one.

Yu Xing watched the scene with a smile.

Chu Qiying turned sharply: “I didn’t mean you? Are you not a Yu now?”

“Uh.” Yu Xing took a deep drag, smiling calmly: “Mom, after I finish this one, I won’t smoke at home tomorrow.”

Chu Qiying glared at her son, then spotted her husband’s restless hand again: “Quickly put that cigarette away, Yu Zong!”

Yu Xing choked on his smoke: “Cough, cough, cough…”

Yu Guosheng slipped the cigarette into his pocket, his hand returning to the wine bottle: “Yu Zong, want some?”

Yu Xing nodded with a smile: “Dad, just one glass.”

Chu Qiying didn’t object this time, exhaling deeply: “What exactly is going on? I’m confused. Xingxing, what have you been doing these past few months?”

“It’s a long story.” Yu Xing raised his cup and clinked it against his father’s, then paused: “Morality came from the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors; fame and glory from the Xia, Shang, and Zhou…”

Chu Qiying slapped her son’s arm.

Yu Xing immediately spoke plainly: “Three months ago, on a night, my fellow disciple Zhong Zhiling had a fight with his girlfriend—I suddenly thought to make a bet with him…”

On a night three months ago, I made a decision. Today, three months later, I see the fruit on my parents’ faces.

(End of Chapter)