Rumors about Bian Yiqiu being locked up at a crucial time were mixed. Some thought that during the chaos with the Jiu’an group, prison was actually the safest place for him. He had intentionally given the police a bit of leverage, so Old Master Jiu wouldn’t have to worry. Others believed that Old Master Jiu truly saw him as a son and was determined to pass on Jiu’an’s influence to him, so he protected him in every way. Then, there were those who believed Bian Yiqiu had helped Old Master Jiu with many shady things before, and that getting out of prison wouldn’t be easy for him. Some even thought Old Master Jiu decided to use him as a scapegoat to save himself.

There were all kinds of rumors, but the truth of why Bian Yiqiu went to prison and how he got out was known only to him and Old Master Jiu. He never spoke of it, and no one dared to ask. Just before Old Master Jiu passed away, Bian Yiqiu suddenly walked out of Tongshan Prison, standing before everyone with Old Master Jiu’s handwritten will. All of Old Master Jiu’s shares and the position of president of the Jiu’an Group were now in his hands.

“Uncle Yao, I heard you just had a grandson a couple of months ago. I’ll come by to congratulate you in person one of these days.”

“You little bastard, how dare you threaten me? When I was following Old Master Jiu killing people, you were still playing in the mud somewhere… Ugh!”

Bian Yiqiu glanced at Uncle Yao, who was lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. He casually rubbed the still-smoking barrel of the gun on his buzzed scalp, scratched a few times, and then, with an apologetic grin, said to the crowd, “Sorry, it went off by mistake.”

After saying this, Bian Yiqiu raised his hand and threw the gun to Zuo Cheng behind him, sincerely indicating that such “accidents” would never happen again.

He had just pointed the gun’s muzzle directly at his own head, so who would dare guarantee that the bullet in that gun wouldn’t somehow end up flying into their own body? People naturally avoid danger; money is important, but it’s useless without life to spend it. So, the voices of doubt quietly faded away.

Afterward, Bian Yiqiu still spoke seriously to Zuo Cheng: “Take a look at this gun, see what went wrong. How could it just go off like that? It’s not good to scare the old man.”

Zuo Cheng: “…”

No matter what, since Bian Yiqiu took over Jiu’an, those old men who remained in their positions were still quite polite to him. He knew very well that they couldn’t possibly be fully convinced, but these men had followed Old Master Jiu for quite a long time. As long as they didn’t cause trouble, he wouldn’t bother them. It was just a matter of spending a little extra money to support them in their old age and see them off when the time came. Out of respect for Old Master Jiu, Bian Yiqiu, as the younger generation, would make sure to handle things properly.

With Uncle Yao as a cautionary tale, these old men did indeed tone down their behavior quite a bit. At least on the surface, they all greeted Bian Yiqiu with smiles and friendly faces, and he called them “Uncle” with sincere affection. To outsiders, it seemed like everything was calm and peaceful, like a serene and harmonious scene.

However, while he had taken care to guard against the older generation, he didn’t anticipate the younger one. The situation with Zhou Ming really caught him off guard.

Eight years of brotherly friendship weren’t fake, and Bian Yiqiu was genuinely hurt.

He believed he had been fair to him, handing over the most profitable import-export business. Aside from the routine year-end financial checks by the group’s finance department, he never questioned the money. If the people under him engaged in small actions here and there, it was understandable. As long as they didn’t cross his bottom line, he could easily turn a blind eye.

Unfortunately, Zhou Ming not only crossed the line but also wanted his life.

Bian Yiqiu walked into the office, where Ye Zhen and Liang Yu, the head of the HR department, were already waiting. On the desk was a USB drive. He plugged it into the computer, and the detailed financial records of Hongyuan over the past few years quickly appeared on the screen. Without bothering to go through the data, he scrolled straight to the end. Ye Zhen, ever the professional, had already summarized the audit results, revealing losses far greater than anticipated.

Aside from the money Zhou Ming had spent on offshore gambling over the past two years, the Zhou family had also purchased properties in several cities, most of which were disguised as legitimate business expenses. Then there was a client named Minghui Trading, with dozens of bank transfers labeled as “transactions” each month between them and Hongyuan. However, at the docks, there were no records of Minghui’s goods being received or shipped. The largest shareholder of Minghui was a man named Cao Zhihui.

Interestingly, Zhou Ming’s wife shared the same last name—Cao.

It was a mess of bad debts.

Bian Yiqiu slammed the notebook shut and looked at Ye Zhen and Liang Yu, who were sitting across from him. “Go ahead,” he said.

“What I need to say is already in the report you just looked at,” Ye Zhen spoke up first. “Before, we trusted Zhou Ming too much. His annual reports always looked impressive, and we didn’t dig deeper. But in reality, many of the transactions don’t match up. The hole is too big now. There are still over a billion in orders on hand, but cash flow has completely dried up. We either shut down Hongyuan and compensate the clients proportionally, or the headquarters steps in and loans money for turnover. However, it’s impossible for Hongyuan to pay it back within three years. Think about it.”

Bian Yiqiu nodded, acknowledging the information, then turned his gaze to Liang Yu, signaling for him to continue.

Liang Yu adjusted his glasses and handed over the file in his hand. “Whether Hongyuan needs to go through bankruptcy or not, there’s still a need for someone to manage the daily operations. I’ve looked into a few candidates—backgrounds, work histories, and even some former positions. Everything is clear. Boss, take a look and see if anyone stands out to you.”

Bian Yiqiu glanced at the file handed to him but didn’t reach for it. “I think Old Meng looks good. Have him take over at Hongyuan.”

“What? You want Meng Jianyu to go to Hongyuan?” Ye Zhen was the first to speak up, her voice filled with disbelief. “Are you out of your mind because of Zhou Ming?”

“Is that so hard to understand?” Bian Yiqiu replied calmly. “He’s always the one cleaning up Hongyuan’s mess. Let him clean it all up.”

As soon as those words were spoken, Ye Zhen was left speechless. Liang Yu quietly took back the file and scratched his nose, saying nothing.

If Meng Jianyu had been present, he would’ve likely fallen to his knees, clinging to Bian Yiqiu’s legs, crying and pleading, “Boss, I’m innocent!”

Although Meng Jianyu was called “Old Meng,” he was only two years older than Bian Yiqiu. He was one of the first trusted subordinates appointed after Bian Yiqiu took power. A top graduate from Harvard University in the U.S., Old Meng had once run his own investment consulting firm on Wall Street. However, his youthful arrogance led him to offend a powerful client, nearly costing him his life. That client hired a hitman, and Old Meng was chased halfway around the world. In the midst of his desperate flight, he happened to cross paths with Bian Yiqiu. It turned into one of those classic heroic rescue scenes from a soap opera, though in this case, Old Meng wasn’t exactly what anyone would call a damsel in distress.

Later, Meng Jianyu gave up all other ambitions and loyally followed Bian Yiqiu into Jiu’an. He was placed in Ruiyi as a mid-level supervisor with the main task of monitoring Uncle Yao. After Uncle Yao was “accidentally injured” by Bian Yiqiu, he was promoted to General Manager of Ruiyi.

Although Old Meng was far from being aesthetically pleasing, he was reliable in his work and absolutely loyal to Bian Yiqiu. Under his leadership, Ruiyi Financial thrived, and within six months, the profits had already surpassed the entire previous year’s earnings. Moving him to Hongyuan at this point felt like a subtle “demotion”, which is why Ye Zhen was so surprised.

But to be fair, he wasn’t exactly innocent either. Bian Yiqiu was right when he said Old Meng enjoyed cleaning up after Hongyuan’s messes. Without Old Meng’s approval, Zhou Ming couldn’t have secretly borrowed funds from Ruiyi to cover his tracks for the end-of-year audit. Old Meng’s connection with Zhou Ming originated from Bian Yiqiu’s bond with Zhou Ming, and since Boss Bian held Zhou Ming in high regard, they were considered brothers. When Zhou Ming came to Old Meng for help, he couldn’t just turn a blind eye.

Zhou Ming had told him he was having issues with an outside investment and borrowed some money from the company that would take a few months to recover. He only asked Old Meng to help cover up the audit in the meantime, promising to repay the funds once they came back in.

It wasn’t unusual for subsidiary heads to have outside investments—Old Meng himself co-owned several restaurants with friends. Although the amount Zhou Ming requested was significant, it wasn’t too burdensome for Ruiyi, so Old Meng didn’t probe further and lent him the funds. Little did he know that Zhou Ming wasn’t investing but gambling, essentially throwing the money down a black hole. When the repayment deadline passed and Zhou Ming couldn’t return the funds, Old Meng realized the trouble he was in, but it was too late. Bian Yiqiu had already given him a harsh scolding, ordered Ye Zhen to dock half his salary for six months, and now was sending him to Hongyuan to patch up the mess. If Old Meng were present, he’d probably be clinging to Bian Yiqiu’s leg, crying his heart out.

Everyone in Jiu’an knew that although Bian Yiqiu seemed easygoing, he was actually shrewd and calculating. He could smile at you warmly, full of sunshine, only to turn around and come up with some devilish scheme that would make you regret it. Knowing this, Ye Zhen kept silent instead of pleading, and Liang Yu didn’t dare speak up either.

In the end, Bian Yiqiu made the final decision: Jiu’an’s largest core business, Hongyuan, couldn’t be shut down just because of one Zhou Ming. The group would lend Hongyuan money to get through the crisis, but interest would be charged at the same rate Ruiyi applied to loans. If Meng Jianyu could turn Hongyuan around within two years, making it profitable, he would have the freedom to choose whether to stay with Hongyuan or return to Ruiyi.

Ye Zhen asked, “And if he can’t manage it?”

Bian Yiqiu replied with a rhetorical question, “Then what use is he to me?”

Ye Zhen fell silent.

Then Liang Yu asked, “So, who will be in charge of Ruiyi?”

Bian Yiqiu thought for a moment. “That one guy—his name’s strange; I mispronounce it every time.”

Liang Yu paused, speechless for a moment, then clarified, “Ruiyi’s Deputy Director, Yu Ben.”

“Yes, that’s it—Yu Ben. You should ask him to change his name. I embarrass myself as your boss when I mispronounce it at every meeting.”

“No problem, we’re used to it,” Ye Zhen and Liang Yu said in unison, with Zuo Cheng beside them nodding in agreement.

Bian Yiqiu suddenly felt a bit deflated.

As they left the office, Zuo Cheng asked where he wanted to go. Remembering the two handsome young guys he’d seen earlier that afternoon on Wuye Mountain, Bian Yiqiu answered, seemingly out of nowhere, “I’m hungry.”

Zuo Cheng looked at him in confusion, “Didn’t we just eat?”

Bian Yiqiu gave an evil grin, his gaze dropping suggestively. Zuo Cheng immediately got the message and sped off toward Celebrity Club, muttering to himself that it seemed the morning’s “sweet treat” was no match for someone like Boss Bian, who was used to more substantial indulgences.

After a night out at the club, Bian Yiqiu woke up close to noon with a sudden craving for Yuexiang Garden’s dim sum. Zuo Cheng checked the time and informed him that they had only half an hour before breakfast service ended.

For once, Bian Yiqiu didn’t linger in bed. He leapt up like a fish, freshened up in record time, and was about to step out of the room when—thud—a finger from a nearby server  tapped him right on the forehead.

Bian Yiqiu: “…”

Zuo Cheng: “…”

The poor server nearly dropped to his knees in terror. “Q-Q-Q-Qiu-ge, I was trying to knock on the door, not…not on you!”

Bian Yi Qiu’s face darkened. “Is the doorbell just for decoration?”

Zuo Cheng, deadpan, reminded him, “You said the doorbell was too noisy, so last month, we had it removed.”

Bian Yiqiu paused, recalling that it was indeed his request, then turned to the server. “What’s the matter?”

The server stammered, “T-t-t-there’s a… a… a…”

“Speak properly.”

“There’s a sports car blocking the front entrance!” The server gathered his courage and blurted it all out in one breath.

“Get someone to move it. If it can’t be moved, just smash it,” Bian Yiqiu said, stepping around the server and heading toward the elevator.

The server hurriedly jogged after him. “The person who drove it here said… it’s your car…”

“My car?” Bian Yiqiu stopped in his tracks, glanced at Zuo Cheng, and suddenly had an uneasy feeling.