"What did you say?? There must be some mistake—why would he run off with five million?? It's not even that much money." On the other end of the line, Chen Biao's eyes bulged, his face a mix of shock and bewilderment.
Huang Shuheng let out a cold snort, a contemptuous smile tugging at his lips as he spoke with biting sarcasm.
"Well, well, President Chen, such grand airs. Your illustrious clan may be rolling in wealth—five million might be pocket change to you—but to the three of us, it's a fortune."
Chen Biao caught the mockery in Huang Shuheng's tone.
For a moment he didn't know how to retort. "You… "
"Let me make this clear, Chen Biao: if anything happens to the company's shares in the next few days, we'll pin the five million plus every bit of stock losses squarely on you."
The words sent Chen Biao into a panic… At its peak, his family had been worth tens of billions.
True, they'd been on a downhill slide these past few years.
Their fortune had kept shrinking, but they'd still hovered around the ten-billion mark.
Now, Mingsheng Group's sudden move had shattered the family's core operations entirely.
Not only that, they'd been forced to pay out huge sums in compensation.
The once-mighty family empire lay in ruins, broken and scarred.
Of the vast clan, barely a billion in assets remained.
If those men really put the bill on him, then… the estate he'd guarded with half a lifetime of care would be ruined by that good-for-nothing Chen Tie.
As head of the family, he already felt he had no face to face his ancestors.
At the thought, a searing hatred surged up inside him, fierce enough to devour everything.
He'd thought cutting the family's support might give the boy one more chance to turn over a new leaf.
But now it struck him: perhaps that "chance" had been a mistake all along.
The family had more than one man.
Even without Chen Tie, others could shoulder the burden.
If they let him keep making trouble, not only would his own future be wrecked—
the rest of the family would be dragged down as well.
In the old days, a rotten sprout like that would have been hauled to the ancestral hall, legs broken, and locked away for life.
Chen Biao decided he'd been too soft.
A frigid killing intent flashed involuntarily across his eyes.
With a frosty snort and a voice like a thousand-year glacier, he said,
"What's that to me? I'm officially informing you: Chen Tie is no longer a member of my Chen family. His name is struck from the genealogy—whether he lives or dies is none of my concern."
Hearing this, Huang Shuheng's eyes widened in disbelief, clearly only half-trusting Chen Tie's claim.
He roared, "You think I'm some pushover?? If he really did this, the three of us won't let him off easy…"
Chen Biao understood the threat, but he no longer cared.
When the call began he'd thought of catching up with Huang Shuheng, maybe smoothing things over—
the Chen family wasn't what it had been, after all.
But since Huang Shuheng had torn off all pretense, Chen Biao saw no need to ingratiate himself further.
"Do whatever you like—it's nothing to me. I'll say it once more: don't come to me about him again. Huang Shuheng, the Chen clan may be diminished, but we're still here. You'd best speak politely to me, or don't blame me for—humph."
When the dial tone droned in his ear, Huang Shuheng's hand holding the phone began to tremble.
His face went deathly pale.
He knew only too well how rough and ruthless the people of Western Hill could be.
He was certain Chen Biao's warning was no empty bluff.
The Chens were still around, every one of them fearless of death.
If they really came after him… The thought made Huang Shuheng suck in a sharp breath.
A chill shot up his spine; tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead.
Chen Tie was nothing compared with Chen Biao.
When Chen Tie was in a bad mood he might crack someone's skull.
But if Chen Biao were truly enraged, his methods would be far more savage—
he'd have a man buried alive without a second thought.
Seeing the look on Huang Shuheng's face,
the other two men beside him grew frantic and pressed, "What happened??"
After Huang Shuheng repeated what he'd heard, everyone fell into silence.
They all knew that out in Western Hill, family line meant everything.
For Chen Biao to speak those words meant he had resolved, once and for all, to wash his hands of Chen Tie.
To rich clans like theirs, past or present, blood ties were secondary—
family profit and money reigned supreme.
Kinship? Nothing more than a disposable accessory.