Chapter Fifteen: The Storm Approaches

Returning home, Sun Zhengtao poured himself a glass of liquor. He raised his head and downed it in one gulp, gripping the glass tightly in his hand. At the thought of what had just transpired, he hurled the glass to the floor with all his might—shards of crystal scattering across the tiles.

At that moment, Zhang Zili knocked at the door. Sun Zhengtao, seething with rage, yanked the door open. Seeing Zhang Zili standing outside, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down, and said slowly, “Come in.”

Zhang Zili entered Sun Zhengtao’s home—a grand European-style crystal floor lamp hung in the center of the hall, its surroundings bathed in golden splendor, opulence evident in every detail. To the left, a spiral staircase wound upward toward the bedrooms, while beneath the chandelier stood a set of ebony European sofas. Next to the sofas was a floor-to-ceiling wine cabinet, filled with an array of imported spirits. The only discordant note was the glass fragments on the floor, scattering the light across the tiles in a jarring display.

“What happened here?” Zhang Zili asked, puzzled.

“Oh, I broke a glass by accident while drinking just now,” Sun Zhengtao replied coolly. He took two new glasses from the cabinet, poured them full, set one on the tea table, and, holding the other, sat down on the sofa. “What brings you here?”

Zhang Zili, seeing Sun Zhengtao so composed, suddenly felt his anger flare up. “Boss, Lu Xiaoyu has seized power, and you’re still here drinking? Are you just going to let that treacherous dog take over the company? Isn’t your heart too big? You’re going to just let them run wild?”

Sun Zhengtao looked at Zhang Zili’s earnest, anxious face and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What are you laughing at? Even Sun Shengtai has run over to Lu Xiaoyu’s side, and you still have the mood to laugh?” Zhang Zili grew even more anxious at the sight, even bringing up Sun Shengtai’s name.

Indeed, for Sun Zhengtao, seeing his own brother Sun Shengtai stand with Lu Xiaoyu during the vote had been a bitter blow. He drained his glass, his smile fading, replaced by a grave expression. “They clearly conspired beforehand. Even if I refuse to give up the top spot, they’ll just start their own faction.”

He paused, then continued, “Sun Shengtai naturally can’t be counted as one of them, but Lu Xiaoyu’s side already has four people. At most, we have three—there’s no denying the shift in power. But when did Zhang Zhijun get in bed with Lu Xiaoyu? Those two never even spoke to each other before.” As he spoke, Sun Zhengtao himself lapsed into thought.

Zhang Zili, seeing Sun Zhengtao fall silent again, was equally perplexed. When had those people started working together? Lyu Yue, like himself, had followed the old boss from the beginning—how had he ended up siding with Lu Xiaoyu? Zhou Qiang was Lu Xiaoyu’s childhood friend; his support was understandable. But Zhang Zhijun? He didn’t seem like someone who would ever be on the same side as Lu Xiaoyu!

Zhang Zhijun was a notorious womanizer, while Lu Xiaoyu prided himself on his reserve and aloofness. The two were as different as cat and mouse—it should have been impossible for them to agree on anything. Yet today, right under his own eyes, they had. Zhang Zili was baffled. What was going on? And what about Sun Shengtai—why would he help outsiders oppose his own brother? Was he dreaming, or had everyone lost their minds today?

He glanced again at Sun Zhengtao, who was still staring into his glass. Unable to hold back, he asked, “Boss, did you think of something?”

Sun Zhengtao snapped back to reality, shook his head, and replied, “Nothing.” He poured himself another drink.

Zhang Zili grew even more anxious. “You can’t just sit here drinking! What are we going to do? I could get some guys together and take care of Lu Xiaoyu. He’s the real snake in the grass—I’ve had it with him. Why not just settle it once and for all?”

Sun Zhengtao looked up at him, his voice light and even. “Sure, let’s have the boys hack Lu Xiaoyu to pieces. As for Zhou Donghai, we’ll plant an undercover man on his side; if he hasn’t betrayed us, we’ll break him out of prison, and if he has, we’ll flatten the jail—let everyone see how ruthless our company can be.”

He paused, then, seeing Zhang Zili’s stunned face, his tone turned sharp. “What do you think this is—a movie? Going to chop up Lu Xiaoyu? Are we in some gangster flick? Did you leave your brains at home before you came out? You’re not a kid anymore—think for a change! Or are you hoping the police come knocking?”

Chastened, Zhang Zili mumbled, “Well, they all had their wits about them, and yet Lu Xiaoyu still managed to fool them. You say I’m brainless, but at least I wasn’t taken in by him.”

Sun Zhengtao, hearing this, found himself at a loss for words. Indeed, Lyu Yue, Zhou Qiang, Zhang Zhijun, Sun Shengtai—all smart men, all of whom had chosen to abandon him for another. It was this burly, simple man who remained loyal, accomplishing what even his own brother had not. Was that cleverness or folly?

At this moment, was choosing to stand by him a sign of intelligence or stupidity? Sun Zhengtao himself wasn’t sure. But one thing he knew: he had to strike back at Lu Xiaoyu. He couldn’t stomach seeing the empire he’d built slip away without a fight.

He knew there were three things he had to do. First, find out what was happening with Zhou Donghai—whether his troubles would spread to affect himself. Second, bring his wayward brother back to his side, and in the process, figure out what had happened with Lyu Yue and Zhang Zhijun—why had they helped Lu Xiaoyu, and could they be persuaded to return? Third, find a way to deal with Lu Xiaoyu. He couldn’t take the crude approach Zhang Zili suggested, but now that Lu Xiaoyu had rebelled, he had to be taught a lesson—or else he truly would have no standing left.

He told Zhang Zili, “Go back and settle the men. Tell them to keep a low profile for now—no rash moves. I’ll let you know once I’ve figured things out. Now isn’t the time for panic. Endure for a couple of days, plan carefully—don’t throw the camp into chaos.”

After Zhang Zili left, Sun Zhengtao sat on the sofa, reflecting on when his men had begun to lose faith in him. The bigger the business grew, the weaker the bonds of brotherhood became. He admitted he’d grown complacent these past years, enjoying life while the group lost their sense of unity and hunger for profit. With wealth came ambition, and new ideas began to take root.

He realized he had, indeed, started to play favorites. Zhang Zili was the most loyal and so deserved better treatment; Sun Shengtai was his brother and needed extra care; Lyu Yue, always disagreeing with him, was naturally kept at arm’s length; Zhang Zhijun, who loved a free ride, was appeased with small favors; Lu Xiaoyu, clever and popular, was a great helper—but he couldn’t be left unchecked, lest his merit overshadow the master; Zhou Qiang, brought in by Lu Xiaoyu, was a mere acquaintance, indulged only to give Lu face; Zhou Donghai, smooth-tongued and useful for keeping Lu Xiaoyu in check, was too green not to warrant special attention.

This was Sun Zhengtao’s way of balancing the interests, but now he wondered if he’d been wrong. The seat of the boss was indeed a lonely one. In the old days, they’d all been brothers; now, with the business booming, he found himself friendless. Lu Xiaoyu, once his right hand, had become the very one to force him from his throne—how unpredictable fate could be.

Setting his glass aside, Sun Zhengtao picked up the phone and dialed. “Hei Zi, have you found out anything yet? Any news?”

After hearing the reply, he poured himself another drink, thought for a moment, and made a second call. “Juanjuan, are you home?”

“I am. Are you coming over? I just got some new lingerie—very sexy—been waiting for you.”

“All right, wait for me. I’ll be right there.” Hanging up, Sun Zhengtao grabbed his keys and hurried out.

Meanwhile, Sun Shengtai sat alone in a bar, drinking sullenly. He couldn’t understand why, as Sun Zhengtao’s brother, he was still less valued than the coward Zhou Donghai. Lu Xiaoyu was clever and had been by Sun Zhengtao’s side from the very beginning; he could accept being second to him. But Zhou Donghai—what had he done to deserve better treatment? He had joined later than everyone.

At the meeting earlier, Sun Shengtai had helped Lu Xiaoyu’s group force Sun Zhengtao down from his seat, but he still felt aggrieved. Why, as a blood brother, was he worth less in Sun Zhengtao’s eyes than an outsider? He sat there, drinking alone, until several scantily clad, heavily made-up women gathered around him. He made no attempt to refuse them; tonight, he intended to drink himself senseless in this neon-lit world, hoping to forget all his troubles.

Elsewhere, in a private room at Clear Breeze Returns—the most luxurious hotel in Qingdong—Lu Xiaoyu, Lyu Yue, Zhou Qiang, and Zhang Zhijun were savoring fine wine and gourmet dishes.

Zhang Zhijun raised his glass to Lu Xiaoyu. “Congratulations on your victory, Boss Lu! Tonight, we drink till we drop!”

Lu Xiaoyu, amused by Zhang Zhijun’s enthusiasm, smiled faintly. “I’m not ‘Boss Lu.’ The company belongs to all of us. Since you’ve entrusted me with this role, I’ll do my best to lead us to greater fortune.”

Zhou Qiang chimed in, “I trust you, Brother Xiaoyu. The old boss never cared about us, always playing favorites. Now that you’re in charge, our time has finally come.”

They clinked glasses once more, the conversation lively, the mood convivial. As the night wore on and the wine flowed, their faces grew flushed. Eventually, Zhang Zhijun, eyes glassy, sidled up to Lu Xiaoyu and whispered, “Boss Lu, when will you make good on your promise? I’ve been waiting.”

Lu Xiaoyu watched the drunken Zhang Zhijun with a knowing smile. He checked the time, then pulled a golden card from his shirt pocket and handed it over. “Room 806 upstairs—a feast of beauty awaits. You don’t need us for company; go enjoy yourself.”

Zhang Zhijun took the key card, sobering up instantly, his eyes gleaming. He raised his glass to Lu Xiaoyu. “You really are something, Boss Lu. Here’s to you—thanks for the help!”

He downed his drink, then announced to the room, “Gentlemen, I have business to attend to. I’ll excuse myself. Next time, drinks are on me. Carry on!” And with that, he hurried out.

Zhou Qiang couldn’t help but laugh. “That lecher is in such a rush—Xiaoyu, did you set him up with a beauty?”

Lu Xiaoyu and Lyu Yue both laughed as well.

But as the laughter faded, Lyu Yue’s expression grew serious. “The old boss won’t let this go easily. We need to be on our guard.”

Lu Xiaoyu nodded. “He’ll definitely strike back. And right now, we don’t even know where the expert and technical teams are. Without them, control of the company is meaningless—it’s just an empty shell.”

Lyu Yue replied, “Those teams can always be replaced. What worries me is if the old boss plays dirty. Zhang Zili’s a simpleton—if it comes to a real fight, we might not come out ahead. And Zhang Zhijun, though he’s with us now, I still don’t trust him. For all we know, he’ll betray us tomorrow.”

Zhou Qiang agreed. “Lyu’s right—Zhang Zhijun isn’t really one of us. We should be wary. And as for Sun Shengtai, even though he helped us today, he’s still the old boss’s brother. It’s unlikely he’ll stay on our side for long.”

Lu Xiaoyu nodded. He was well aware that, despite his victory over Sun Zhengtao today, their position was still precarious. Zhang Zhijun was only motivated by profit—should Sun Zhengtao dangle the right incentive, he’d switch sides in a heartbeat. Sun Shengtai’s support today was unexpected; Lu Xiaoyu had no idea what he was thinking, but counting on him to consistently defy his brother was unrealistic.

Moreover, the expert and technical teams were still in Sun Zhengtao’s hands; he hadn’t been able to extract any useful information from him. And as for Zhang Zili, his next move was anybody’s guess. That brute had a habit of causing trouble for the sake of it—if he decided to go crazy, he could do a lot of damage, even at his own expense, and that would spell disaster for Lu Xiaoyu.

Lyu Yue sipped a glass of water and reminded Lu Xiaoyu, “Don’t forget about Zhou Donghai.”

Suddenly, Lu Xiaoyu sobered up. That’s right—he not only had to prepare for Sun Zhengtao’s counterattack but also watch out for Zhou Donghai. Where was he now? Would he betray them all? What was the next step?

Meticulous by nature, Lu Xiaoyu realized he had underestimated the situation. Things were far from optimistic on his side. He needed to act quickly to resolve these issues, or it wouldn’t be long before everything fell apart.

His gaze grew focused as he slipped into deep thought. Lyu Yue and Zhou Qiang fell silent as well, the room growing eerily quiet. Outside, the rain had started again, fat droplets drumming against the windows, echoing off the ground below. Thunder rolled in the distance, as if warning their enemies. Occasionally, a fork of lightning split the night sky. On this stormy night, the three within began plotting their next moves.