Just as Big Secret left, Jiang Jianming's call came through.
Glancing at it, Jiang Cheng immediately answered the phone and spoke first: "Dad. How are things over there? Tibet is at a high altitude; is your health okay?"
"Everything's fine, don't worry. The work schedule isn't too tight, and I've adapted well," Jiang Jianming replied from the other end, his tone carrying a hint of comfort from his son's concern. But he quickly changed the subject: "The person at your place has left; there shouldn't be anything else going on now, right?"
After a few seconds of silence, Jiang Cheng replied somewhat helplessly: "Dad... you're really direct..."
Aside from the Security Team guarding his Courtyard House, the others with official IDs were naturally Great-Grandfather's people.
Therefore, who he met and what he did in the Capital naturally couldn't be hidden from his family's eyes.
Although Jiang Cheng didn't care about this point.
Jiang Jianming laughed on the other end: "If I pretended not to know, would you even believe it? I just wanted to ask you about Jiangtai Group."
"You mean about Wang Wei."
"Yeah..." After a moment of silence, Jiang Jianming continued: "I said before that I'd leave the company's affairs to you, but this Wang Wei... aside from some minor flaws, he's still a decent person, especially back when the company was first founded."
Jiang Cheng didn't speak, quietly waiting for his father to continue: "Back then, you were still young. I only had two hundred thousand in my card, which wasn't even enough for the initial down payments. I had to repay bank loans every month. In the early days of the business, Wang Wei actually advanced six whole months of his salary to me... Honestly, he was very good at the start, and I was grateful to him..."
Jiang Cheng understood his father's meaning; after all, he was a brother who had built the business with him.
Even if this brother had some minor flaws after the company grew large, Jiang Jianming turned a blind eye.
Over the years, Jiang Jianming had treated Wang Wei very well—not only with an annual salary of over five hundred thousand, but year-end bonuses were mostly starting at one hundred thousand.
Jiang Jianming's tone softened a bit as he continued: "So I was thinking of personally talking to Wang Wei this time. After all these years, if I'm the one to say certain things, he might be more willing to listen. If he's willing to come around, recognize the situation, and find his proper place... Son, I hope you can still leave him an opportunity in the future and treat him with some kindness."
He paused, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh in his voice: "Of course, if he remains stubborn and still can't distinguish what's important, then I won't interfere anymore. You can handle it however you want; Dad definitely won't step in."
Actually, Jiang Cheng felt a bit sorry for his father.
His childhood companion, Qiu Zheng, was also in the Capital now, but besides their childhood bond, there was a lot of calculation between them.
And now, the partner he started the business with as a young man was starting to tear off the mask of friendship because of interests.
Jiang Cheng held his phone, his gaze falling on the quiet courtyard outside the window.
He could hear the old sentiment and helplessness in his father's words, and he understood that this was the last bit of face his father could fight for on Wang Wei's behalf.
He gave a soft "Mm" and said in a calm, steady tone: "Dad, I understand what you mean. Don't worry, as long as Uncle Wang can figure it out himself, I won't drive him to a dead end. I'll give him the dignity he deserves."
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Jiang Jianming's relieved sigh: "Good, then that's that."
Meanwhile, in a hidden suite of a private club in Changsha.
The air was thick with the smoke of expensive cigars and the heavy scent of alcohol, mixed with a hint of cloying perfume and the atmosphere of desire.
Wang Wei, his bathrobe half-open, his chest heaving violently, stared with sinister eyes at the young girl curled up on the luxurious carpet.
The girl's clothes were disheveled, and there were several obvious red marks on her exposed skin. She was sobbing quietly.
"What are you crying for?" Wang Wei irritably grabbed a glass and gulped down some liquor.
The strong alcohol burned his throat but couldn't suppress the wicked fire in his heart. "I spent money, not for you to cause me trouble!"
The scene in the meeting room yesterday was like a brand of shame etched into his heart.
He had been venting since yesterday.
That kid Jiang Cheng, with two young people who hadn't even grown their hair out, had so easily stripped away the power he had fought for over many years.
The gazes of those fair-weather followers around him held sympathy, mockery, and even the expectation of egging him on to stand up.
But he could only force a smile and spout nonsense about "resolute support"!
He hadn't yet found a way to vent this pent-up anger.
So now, he could only take it out on someone weaker.
In a state of half-drunkenness, he suddenly stood up, grabbed the girl's hair, and forced her to look up.
His face showed unmasked violence: "Who are you showing that dead face to? Shouldn't you be obedient after taking the money? Do you want to die?!"
The girl cried out in pain, fear flashing in her eyes, but more so a sense of humiliated anger.
She struggled, her voice choked with tears: "You... you can't do this..."
"I can't do what?" Wang Wei sneered, raising his other hand. "It's only natural for me to spend money! Stop pretending. Do you think I stink? Even if I do, you have to endure it. If I see you spit one more time, I'll torture you in a bit..."
Hearing this, the girl looked at the red and purple whip marks on her body; though she felt hatred in her heart, she didn't dare speak.
"I'll eat it. I won't spit again... Please don't hit me..."
Before she could finish, the phone on the coffee table beside them suddenly vibrated violently like a death warrant, its cold light particularly piercing in the dim, decadent room.
Wang Wei's movements abruptly froze. He glanced at it with extreme impatience, preparing to dismiss the call.
But when the name [Jiang Jianming] appeared clearly on the screen, the violence and arrogance on his face instantly solidified.
Then it receded like a tide, replaced by an unexpected panic and disbelief.
Jiang Jianming?!
Why was he suddenly calling??
A chill, as if an invisible hand were clutching his throat, instantly swept through his body.
His mind flashed back to the "Black Materials" he had been secretly preparing and his plans to pull the rug out from under them; his heart began to pound wildly.
The phone continued to vibrate stubbornly, the buzzing sound particularly harsh in the silent suite, each vibration hitting his heart like a heavy hammer.
Seeing Wang Wei's expression, the sobbing girl on the floor seemed startled by the sudden turn of events and his abrupt change in demeanor, momentarily forgetting to cry.
Wang Wei took a deep breath, as if trying his best to dispel that moment of panic.
He suddenly let go of the girl's hair with an almost imperceptible roughness, pushing her aside and growling: "Get lost! Don't make a sound!"
He straightened his open bathrobe, trying to steady his breathing, then used slightly trembling fingers to slide the screen to answer and put the phone to his ear.
Almost simultaneously, he forced a smile onto his face that was worlds apart from before—one of respect and even a hint of flattery.
He also deliberately kept his voice soft and warm.
As if the violent man from just now had never existed:
"Hello? Big Brother Jiang!"