Without shares, you’re not filial?
Xie Jinghu wouldn’t dare say such a thing!
The old ginger is spicier, and Xie Jinghu hit a neither soft nor hard nail, chuckling awkwardly:
“Mother, you’ve misunderstood me. I’m just worried that Xie Qian is too young. Giving him too many shares might lead to mischief. Jinhu Group will eventually be his to inherit. My thought was to wait until he’s older and more mature before discussing shares… Fine, you love him, so give him the shares if you wish.”
Old Madam Xie unleashed her ultimate move, forcing Xie Jinghu to let go of the 2% share transfer issue. He quickly changed the subject, fearing her next line might be, “Show more filial piety with some shares,” which would cost him dearly!
Giving shares to his mother wasn’t the issue, but Old Madam Xie was now protecting Xie Qian. Any shares she got would likely go to him. Xie Jinghu found an excuse and fled.
Old Madam Xie sighed as she watched his retreating figure.
Her third son was truly blinded by greed, unaware when he’d ever see clearly.
He spoke nicely now, saying Jinhu Group would eventually be Xie Qian’s, but if he truly believed that, why not give Xie Qian the shares already? Who was he blocking?
Old Madam Xie, a strong woman her whole life, raised four children through hardship without ever letting outsiders laugh at her. Yet now, her most beloved third son had made such a mess, and she, the old mother, had to clean it up.
Her third son, Xie Jinghu, was immature despite his age, while Xie Qian was wise beyond his years—too sensible!
Xie Qian’s precocity must stem from family upheaval. Once doted on by the Xie family, he was now shunned and guarded against by his own father, a pitiful little thing.
Old Madam Xie imagined Xie Qian suffering in Rongcheng. Giving him shares wasn’t enough. After Xie Jinghu left, she called him personally, reminding him to transfer living expenses to Xie Qian’s account:
“Make sure Xie Qian gets this year’s dividends. I’m an old woman and don’t spend much at home. Send my share to Xie Qian too. That boy never suffered growing up, and thinking of him struggling in Rongcheng breaks my heart.”
In 2005, Rongcheng wasn’t developed, far less prosperous than Beijing. Xie Qian’s transfer from Beijing to Rongcheng was akin to ancient “exile.”
Old Madam Xie endured hardship in her youth and didn’t think much of it, but she felt Xie Qian’s life in Rongcheng was too bleak.
Rongcheng wasn’t as bustling as Beijing, and without the Xie family’s support, would someone bully Xie Qian?
Having more money was always better.
If charm and words failed, money would do the trick!
Worried about Xie Jinghu’s efficiency, Old Madam Xie entrusted her eldest son, Xie Yuping, to oversee the share transfer.
The shares in her hands were hers to give, and giving them to Xie Qian was the most legitimate choice. Xie Yuping was happy to help.
He knew his mother had endured hardship in her youth and worked half her life. Her retirement pension was substantial, and the 5% shares were a bonus—she wouldn’t starve without them.
Old Madam Xie lived frugally, unable to spend all the dividends from Jinhu Group over the years.
If Zou Weijun hadn’t bought houses for Xie Tang and the others, Old Madam Xie would’ve done it eventually. The older generation scrimped on themselves but spent generously on their descendants.
Xie Jinghu had indeed considered delaying the dividends, citing expansion plans to avoid or reduce payouts, not wanting Xie Qian to have too much financial freedom. Parents’ most effective tools for controlling children were “filial piety” and financial restrictions.
But the higher the devil, the higher the way. Those who knew Xie Jinghu best were his mother and eldest brother. Under their supervision, however reluctant, he had to rush the 2004 dividends to Xie Qian’s account.
Because Old Madam Xie insisted, Xie Qian would receive 7% of the dividends this year.
This was cash income.
More valuable than cash were the 2% shares Old Madam Xie was determined to transfer.
She wanted to split them between Zou Weijun and Xie Qian, but Zou Weijun, with only one son, wouldn’t compete with him. When Old Madam Xie called, Zou Weijun declined, saying to transfer them directly to Xie Qian.
“Mother, what’s mine is Xie Qian’s. No need to split it so clearly.”
Old Madam Xie felt guilty and wouldn’t oppose Zou Weijun’s wishes.
The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law agreed on the shares. Old Madam Xie added that since Xie Tang and the others had houses, Xie Qian shouldn’t be left out. Zou Weijun must buy him one too.
“If you’re short on money, I have some…”
“I have enough. Since I’m in Shanghai, I’ll look for something for Xie Qian. How could I use your money?”
Zou Weijun owned not only properties but substantial savings.
Xie Jinghu had once trusted her completely, and later, out of guilt after taking a mistress, ensured she wasn’t financially neglected.
Since Zou Weijun loved Xie Jinghu and wouldn’t run off with his money, he felt safe leaving it with her. This sum dwarfed Xie Qian’s personal savings. Zou Weijun hadn’t thought about using it before, but Old Madam Xie’s reminder made her realise she should buy something for Xie Qian.
Even Old Madam Xie was transferring shares to Xie Qian. As his mother, wouldn’t she be foolish not to plan for him?
Zhong Yong, listening to the full conversation, thought Xie Qian was about to gain another 2% of shares, and it seemed Third Madam Xie was planning to buy him property in Shanghai.
Zhong Yong was torn. Facing such financial temptation, he not only wanted to switch jobs but also to ask Third Madam Xie if she needed a godson. If he became her godson, would he no longer need to strive?
—Sob, he was a youth with ambitions, how could he bend for a mere five pecks of rice!
After hanging up, Zou Weijun returned to the agency, where a pile of documents awaited her signature.
Zhong Yong, full of inner drama, quickly followed.
If Wen Ying faced disdain when house-hunting at an agency, Zou Weijun was treated with deference.
Zou Weijun had an air about her, nurtured by the Zou family.
Though Xie Jinghu was a scoundrel, he’d let Zou Weijun live as a wealthy wife for years. Combined, these qualities gave her an elegance distinct from nouveau riche flashiness.
Without wearing designer clothes, Zou Weijun stood out at the agency, and sharp-eyed agents could tell she was wealthy!
After Yao Xiaojia completed the house transfer procedures, other agents couldn’t hold back. Some offered Zou Weijun tea, others pitched properties, sidelining Yao Xiaojia. Since the three houses were already transferred, they weren’t stealing her clients.
Yao Xiaojia’s face flushed with anger at her shameless colleagues. Zhong Yong felt a bit sorry for her.
But he had no intention of helping her.
That’s how workplaces were—if you weren’t strong, you’d be pushed down.
Zhong Yong earned Xie Yuping’s trust by climbing slowly. With so many around Xie Yuping, without showcasing his ability, he’d have gone unnoticed.
Zou Weijun disliked being swarmed by agents.
Their enthusiasm didn’t sway her; it felt oppressive, suffocating.
Her palms were sweating.
The only familiar person was Zhong Yong.
“Xiao Zhong,” she called.
Zhong Yong, who’d just vowed not to bend for five pecks of rice, pushed past two obtrusive male agents, standing just over a meter from Zou Weijun, leaning slightly forward.
“Any further instructions, Madam?”
Zou Weijun shook her head, “The procedures are done, let’s go.”
Staying longer made her uncomfortable.
The agents were disappointed.
Not buying more houses?
What a shame—they shouldn’t have overlooked that young girl the other day.
She seemed unreliable but bought houses quickly.
This woman looked rich and refined but wasn’t planning to buy more.
Zhong Yong accompanied Zou Weijun out, with Yao Xiaojia instinctively following.
“Ms. Zou, here’s my card. If you need to buy property, residential or commercial, contact me. Whatever your requirements, I’ll recommend suitable options,” Yao Xiaojia said.
Unsure of Zou Weijun’s connection to Wen Ying, Yao Xiaojia noted the three houses were bought for young “Xie” surnamed individuals, one even a minor.
She was envious but not jealous.
You couldn’t choose your birth, but with enough effort, she might own her own house someday.
An agent’s income relied heavily on commissions, and Yao Xiaojia wasn’t ready to give up a wealthy client like Zou Weijun.
With just Yao Xiaojia, Zou Weijun didn’t feel suffocated.
Initially worried Wen Ying was too hasty and might’ve been scammed, Zou Weijun, after inspecting the houses with Zhong Yong, saw how carefully Wen Ying had chosen.
Wen Ying was reliable, and so was the agent she found, who didn’t push bad properties just because Wen Ying was young.
Zou Weijun was about to leave when Yao Xiaojia chased after her with a card.
Zou Weijun hesitated, “Can you find any kind of property?”
Even if she couldn’t, Yao Xiaojia would try, nodding vigorously.
Zou Weijun didn’t specify her needs, only saying she understood.
On the way back to the hotel, Zhong Yong noticed Zou Weijun gazing thoughtfully out the window and probed, “You’re thinking of buying property for Young Master Xie in Shanghai, aren’t you?”
Xie Jinghu had no business in Shanghai and owned no property there.
The Xie family’s properties were mostly in Beijing, under Xie Jinghu and Zou Weijun’s names. Having bought houses for Xie Tang and the others, it seemed unfair not to get one for Xie Qian.
Zou Weijun surely had the money.
Even if she didn’t, there were Old Madam Xie’s dividends.
Zou Weijun seemed hesitant. Zhong Yong smiled, “When you’ve decided, I’ll contact that Yao agent. She’s new but more honest than those old hands.”
Zhong Yong spoke up for Yao Xiaojia because Zou Weijun took her card; otherwise, he wouldn’t have bothered.
Thinking he’d guessed Zou Weijun’s intentions, he was surprised when she shook her head, “Xiao Yao’s nice, but this deal’s too big for her.”
—A deal Yao Xiaojia couldn’t handle? Was Third Madam Xie planning to buy a villa for Young Master Xie?!
