{Zhao Buhui replied, “I don’t care.” 3}

The sunlight filtering through the seventy-second floor was faint, and the indoor heating chased away the winter chill.

Qian Xu took a deep breath.

If not for the three years she’d spent off course, everything she fought for today would have already been hers. Nothing could have stopped her, and no one could have influenced her future.

Qian Xu wouldn’t falter at such a critical moment.

“The large-scale automation of our production lines naturally implies a growing demand for artificial intelligence. Updates and upgrades are inevitable…”

But she had barely begun when one of the company’s senior shareholders interrupted with dissatisfaction. “Machines again? My friend, I have to say, we old folks don’t have much money left for this.”

From that point on, the meeting stalled, derailed by the group’s constant complaints.

“I don’t mind you bringing in a young woman to manage the company, but to immediately talk about technical innovation… It’s going to cost us. It’s not like some people can just talk the talk without putting in the money.”

Some of the senior board members didn’t even wait to hear Qian Xu’s full proposal and directly vetoed all her upcoming plans.

Others, when hearing any mention of spending, were quick to chime in. “Exactly. The market’s been tough these past few years. How much money do we really make? And now you want us to spend even more? I’m afraid I can’t agree.”

One opposing shareholder, with a look of grievance that might have been genuine or staged, cried out, “We started as a simple contract manufacturer, moved into raw materials and textiles, and the company has grown multiple times over since then. But at this age, I really don’t want to take on any more risks.”

Qian Xu felt a slight headache coming on.

She hadn’t expected smooth sailing in the business world, but facing such sharp resistance for the first time left her momentarily confused. However, that confusion quickly dissipated.

She didn’t engage in circles with these veteran businessmen. Without waiting for the big boss behind her to speak on her behalf, she cut straight to the point, “Funny how none of you seemed to complain about these issues when profits were rolling in.”

“For us now, this is both an opportunity and a challenge.”

As for comments like “young girl,” she brushed them off as compliments, turning to say, “Thank you, Director Zhang, for complimenting my youth.”

In the midst of the room, this seemingly delicate woman, with a face so stunningly beautiful that it seemed unreal—rare even in the entertainment industry—was delivering her firm and uncompromising statements.

This didn’t stop the disgruntled old men from letting out a few cold snorts.

However, Qian Xu’s unwavering stance rekindled Zhao Tian’s faith in the company.

“In any case, I expect everyone to follow through on what Xiao Qian has outlined,” Zhao Tian stood solidly behind the young woman, offering his full support. “In business, as in life, it’s like rowing against the current—if you’re not advancing, you’re falling behind. Xiao Qian is one of the most impressive young talents I encountered among many overseas students in the U.S. I trust she will lead our company to greater heights.”

Director Zhang chuckled, as if he had no real say in this matter but was eager to assert himself elsewhere. “Zhao, why didn’t you just choose your own son? Isn’t he also studying at Penn?”

“And at Wharton, no less. That school has to be way more prestigious than where this girl studied.”

The strained relationship between Zhao Tian and his son, Zhao Buhui, was practically an open secret.

Whether Zhao Tian had met his son during his U.S. trip was a mystery, but Zhang made a point of turning it into a joke for everyone.

Most assumed Zhao Buhui had no interest in the company and wouldn’t bother showing up for an unimportant leadership meeting, so they felt free to bring it up without fear.

“If you don’t value your own son, why bring in an outsider to do the job?”

One shareholder couldn’t hold back and bluntly voiced what everyone was thinking, “Wharton, Harvard—it’s all the same. As if we don’t know what kind of kid Buhui really is.”

“If he wasn’t just wasting time and actually had some ambition, this company would never have fallen into someone else’s hands.”

Someone made a biting comment without caring that Zhao Tian was right there. Ostensibly defending the young man, the words still cut deep: “Zhao’s son does have plenty of good qualities. He doesn’t mess with bad stuff, doesn’t fool around with women. He just likes to have a little fun and isn’t serious about work. But with a father as successful as Zhao, why should that even matter?”

The group felt emboldened, knowing Zhao Buhui wasn’t likely to appear, and hadn’t prepared for his sudden arrival.

Yet, as fate would have it, the heavy doors to the conference room were blown open by the wind.

And the figure standing at the entrance wasn’t anyone else but the very person they’d been gossiping about.

This was Qian Xu’s first time seeing the infamous heir of the Zhao family, and he wasn’t all that different from what the rumors suggested. His deep-blue suit didn’t seem suited for a business meeting; it looked more appropriate for a cocktail party.

The cut of his suit wasn’t stiff and formal, which naturally made him seem a bit casual.

His presence clashed with the dim winter light outside the window, exuding a laid-back, carefree air, more reminiscent of a Miami beach than a corporate boardroom.