Xie Qian’s exhaustion caught Xie Jinghu’s attention.
Zhao Dong, being in Modu, found it easy to gather information. With calculated intent, he managed to loosen Gong Sheng’s lips. Xie Qian had ordered Gong Sheng to reject a sudden large order, leading to a heated argument. Gong Sheng reluctantly complied but wasn’t without his own plans, still aiming to maintain ties with the major client.
This client was arranged by Xie Jinghu himself. After a lively drinking session, Gong Sheng’s guard dropped, and he let slip some details. The dispute between Xie Qian and Gong Sheng wasn’t solely about the large orders. The logistics company was still in disarray, yet Xie Qian seemed to have his sights on another venture. Gong Sheng felt the young boss was fickle, not someone destined for great business success, and his disappointment led to a noticeable drop in his work effort recently.
Xie Jinghu’s interest was piqued. “What other business has he set his sights on?”
A logistics company was already overwhelming his wayward son. Adding another venture? Xie Jinghu smirked, thinking Xie Qian was overestimating himself.
Zhao Dong found it somewhat amusing. “I heard Young Master Xie wants to start a film company, likely because he spotted an opportunity after a classmate became a big star.”
Among Xie Qian’s classmates, two stood out: the famous actress Li Mengjiao and Wen Ying, who recently gained attention through a writing competition. Xie Qian’s interest in a film company likely tied to these two female classmates.
Regardless of who it was for, Zhao Dong thought Xie Qian was daydreaming. His vision was too narrow. If Xie Qian focused on the logistics company with the Xie family’s full support, he could eventually lead Jinhu Group. Jinhu Group was massive, yet Xie Qian ignored its core assets to chase a film company?
China’s domestic box office was 1 billion in 2003, 1.5 billion in 2004, and 2 billion in 2005, showing over 20% growth for three years. But the market was still too small, barely worth Zhao Dong’s attention. To him, only investments like billion-yuan theme park projects counted as serious business.
If Xie Qian was eyeing a billion-yuan investment, Zhao Dong would have warned Xie Jinghu to watch out. A film company? That was just childish compared to the logistics business.
Xie Jinghu hadn’t expected this answer. Starting a film company for classmates didn’t sound like Xie Qian’s character. That boy, who didn’t even respect his own father, wouldn’t care about classmates.
Xie Jinghu believed he knew Xie Qian better than Zhao Dong. “He’s just fickle, trying everything and mastering nothing,” he said.
Zhao Dong didn’t respond; Xie Qian’s film venture was irrelevant to him. If Xie Qian was foolish enough to chase this for a female classmate, Zhao Dong was happy to see it. He was already aligned with Xie Jinghu’s mistress. If Xie Qian smoothly took over Jinhu Group, Zhao Dong’s future would be grim.
“Mr. Xie, I’ve been in contact with Mr. and Mrs. He from Kangnian Biotech. We’re interested in a joint venture to form a new company focused on the import-export of medical devices. Bringing in foreign capital would aid development. What do you think?”
Zhao Dong’s words were polished, a tacit understanding with Xie Jinghu.
“Your business, your decision,” Xie Jinghu replied.
The talk of foreign capital was a pretext to give Xie Jinghu’s overseas illegitimate son a legitimate stake. After the failed Rongcheng theme park project, where “Young Master Zhuo’s” shares fell through, Zhao Dong came to Modu with this mission. Kangnian Biotech’s new production line was funded by Jinhu Group, and with Xie Jinghu’s help, the money would flow to the illegitimate son through the He family and Zhao Dong.
The deal was discreet, with shares not directly in “Young Master Zhuo’s” name, seemingly flawless. Yet, Xie Jinghu worried about the stack of blank share transfer agreements in his brother Xie Yuping’s study.
“It’s your first collaboration. Though you know each other, you’re entering a new industry. No amount of caution is too much,” Xie Jinghu warned, urging Zhao Dong to avoid leaks.
Zhao Dong assured him thoroughly.
“As for Young Master Xie…”
“Leave him to me,” Xie Jinghu said. Xie Qian alone couldn’t stir much trouble, but Xie Jinghu was wary of Xie Yuping’s likely support for him, like Gong Sheng and Ma Wufeng at the logistics company, who stayed loyal not to Xie Qian but to a “bigger boss.”
How many such allies had Xie Yuping arranged for Xie Qian? Xie Jinghu hung up and called in Assistant Qi.
“Mr. Xie.”
“Bring me Jiashin’s financial report.”
“Right away, Mr. Xie.”
Jiashin’s report soon landed on Xie Jinghu’s desk. This was the film company he held shares in, usually ignored due to its modest profits. Without the boss’s attention, its growth was lacklustre. Reviewing the report, Xie Jinghu fell into thought.
The company wasn’t small, acquired as a bonus during post-financial crisis asset purchases. It had produced two well-received TV dramas and cinema films, but the profits were unimpressive.
One son, struggling to prove himself, was burning out. The other, an illegitimate son, was being secretly funded through a new Modu company. Xie Jinghu didn’t pity Xie Qian; he feared Xie Qian might disrupt his plans. Perhaps he should keep Xie Qian busy to lower his guard?
Coincidentally, Jiashin Film was in Modu. For a moment, Xie Jinghu suspected Xie Qian was scheming to take Jiashin, but he dismissed it. He didn’t value the company, and handing it to Xie Qian wouldn’t matter much.
Still, Xie Jinghu wasn’t foolish enough to give Jiashin away without conditions. As a businessman, he’d leverage it for gain. Xie Qian had dug a pit for him, but Xie Jinghu, bold and cunning, planned to bury his legitimate son in it.
In the hunt, roles of predator and prey could shift in an instant. It remained to be seen who would fall into the trap.
