The rain over the city beat a relentless, rhythmic tattoo against the reinforced, floor-to-ceiling glass of the penthouse. Inside, the atmosphere was a sanctuary of absolute silence, save for the faint hum of a high-end air filtration system and the quiet clink of porcelain.
Fu Jinyan sat by the window, a steaming cup of unsweetened green tea cradled in his long, pale fingers. He looked every bit the tragic invalid rumor made him out to be: his skin held a translucent, almost fragile pallor, his shoulders were draped in a cashmere shawl despite the indoor climate control, and his dark eyes carried the heavy, weary look of someone perpetually on the edge of exhaustion.
Outside the high-society circles, the whispers were deafening. The eldest Fu young master, they murmured over champagne and canapés, is wasting away. A hidden, incurable constitution. A ghost haunting the grand estate, too weak to ever step into the light.
Jinyan took a slow sip, a faint, humorless curve touching his lips. Let them talk. The rumors kept the buzzing socialite vultures at bay, and more importantly, it kept the board of directors from knocking on his door.
A soft chime echoed from the private elevator, followed by the crisp, measured click of footsteps.
Fu Chengzhi walked into the study, stripping off his wet charcoal-grey overcoat and handing it seamlessly to an approaching attendant. Chengzhi was everything Jinyan supposedly was not: sharp-eyed, impeccably tailored, radiating the boundless, kinetic energy of a man who commanded billions with a single stroke of a pen.
Chengzhi loosened his silk tie, walking over to the mahogany desk that dominated the far corner of the room. It was piled high with quarterly reports, international acquisition briefs, and legal mandates bearing the red wax seals of the Fu conglomerate.
"The board meeting for the Southeast Asian expansion just concluded," Chengzhi said, his voice smooth and steady. He didn't look at Jinyan as an employee to a boss, but rather with a quiet, grounding deference. "They approved the restructuring, just as you outlined in your memo last Tuesday."
"Good," Jinyan replied softly, his voice a low murmur that barely carried over the sound of the rain. "The local regulations there are tricky. If we didn't restructure the holding entities, the tax liability would have eaten five percent of our margins by third quarter."
"Indeed. I have signed off on the final filings this morning." Chengzhi stopped beside the desk, turning his gaze toward the frail figure by the window. A flicker of something fiercely protective crossed Chengzhi's sharp features, quickly masked by his usual professional composure. "You didn't touch your afternoon tonic."
"It tastes like crushed pine bark and regret, Chengzhi."
"It keeps your blood pressure stable," Chengzhi countered mildly, walking over and placing a thick leather-bound dossier on the small table next to Jinyan's chair. "Though, if you spent even ten minutes down at the headquarters instead of managing global operations from a velvet armchair, perhaps the doctors wouldn't have to invent new concoctions for you."
Jinyan raised his gaze, meeting his adopted brother's eyes. Beneath Chengzhi's cool, executive exterior lay the absolute loyalty of a man who owed his entire existence to the one sitting before him. 7 years ago, when the family head wanted to live rest of his live in countryside home after giving up his role in family the family had torn itself apart in a year long brutal succession war, it wasn't the healthy, ambitious cousins who won—it was the quiet, sickly boy in the shadows who outmaneuvered them all, securing absolute ownership of every single share and asset.Though he that time recently came back from treatment abroad he always had best academic record through his study from home.
Yet, when the dust settled, Jinyan hadn't taken the CEO's mahogany chair. He had handed the crown to the brilliant, fiercely loyal boy from the collateral branch whom he had taken under his wing, naming him authorized signatory and operational master of the empire.
Let them think Chengzhi runs the empire, Jinyan had decided back then. Let them think he is the master. It was the ultimate shield. Chengzhi wielded the power with ruthless efficiency, while Jinyan pulled every string from behind a veil of perceived frailty.
"Why would I want to sit in a glass tower listening to old men complain about dividends," Jinyan murmured, looking back out at the rain-soaked skyline, "when I can sit here and watch you handle them so brilliantly?"
Chengzhi let out a short, quiet sigh, a mixture of exasperation and deep-rooted devotion. He reached down and pulled the cashmere shawl a fraction higher over Jinyan's shoulders, adjusting it with practiced care.
"The media is still speculating about your appearance at the charity gala next month," Chengzhi noted, changing the subject. "Shall I decline on your behalf?"
"Of course," Jinyan said, a shadow of an amused smile playing on his lips. "Tell them my hidden disease has flared up again. Tell them the young master is coughing up blood and contemplating his mortality."
Chengzhi's lips twitched upward in a rare, genuine smile. "They'll probably panic and drive our stock down by two points."
"Let them," Jinyan whispered, leaning his head back against the plush upholstery as the rain continued to fall. "It will give you a wonderful excuse to buy the dip."
After this discussion Chengzhi had left the room.
Jiyan opened his laptop and started to read recent news of the city. He rarely came back in these 15 years.He looked at the news of Lin Corp's New project that caught eyes of all businessmen of the country and beyond. The project made him remember childhood dream of a girl he knew.
He almost failed to protect her when she was only 3 but had such powerful dream. He was 5 that time.He had to stay far away from her to protect her. Now it's almost time to reach her again.It's 5 years from last seeing her.
He opened the album which had a lot of photos and videos of Su Nian from childhood to adulthood.