Xie Jinghu’s mood at this moment was truly beyond words.
It was somewhat like that year when, after days of agonizing at home, he finally decided to take responsibility and marry his ex-girlfriend from a fallen family, only to find out she was rushing to the airport—not just to leave the country, but to marry another man!
It was also a bit like that year when he took the money pooled by his family to do business in the south. Things went smoothly at first, and he quickly earned his first fortune. But before he could return home in glory, he fell for a scam as absurd as “turning water into oil.”
How desperate was Xie Jinghu then?
He not only lost all the money he’d made in the south but also racked up huge debts. If he hadn’t managed to find Professor Zou, his future father-in-law, to bail him out, that debt would have crushed him completely. Those two blows were the only times in Xie Jinghu’s otherwise smooth life that left a lasting mark.
Now, he was feeling something similar.
It wasn’t that the loss of Zou Weijun’s savings meant the sky was falling, but he’d planned everything—how to use that money—only to have the rug pulled out from under him. It felt like a mockery, a trampling of his intelligence!
“Did Xie Qian spend all the money in his mother’s hands?”
Xie Jinghu could hardly believe it.
He estimated Zou Weijun held about 70-80 million yuan. He’d never worried about the money in her care; Zou Weijun was never materialistic—spending freely when she had money, frugally when she didn’t.
Spending 70-80 million in one go?
Zou Weijun owned some valuable jewellery, gifts from Xie Jinghu, but she’d never spent anywhere near 70 million, not even seven figures.
Oh, except for buying houses for Xie Tang’s three kids… A flurry of thoughts raced through Xie Jinghu’s mind. He thought he had complete control over Zou Weijun, but now things were spiralling out of control?
Xie Yuping nodded. “Land in Shanghai isn’t cheap. Not only did Weijun spend all her money, it wasn’t quite enough. I was going to talk to you about this even if you hadn’t come—”
“Big brother!” Xie Jinghu cut him off urgently. “What kind of land costs that much? She had about 70-80 million, money I planned to invest in a factory. She spent it all without consulting me—how are we supposed to live?”
Xie Jinghu felt Zou Weijun wasn’t just depressed—she’d lost her mind.
He’d trusted her to manage the money, and now her actions betrayed that trust!
Half of Xie Jinghu’s anger was genuine, half a performance for Xie Yuping.
Since Zou Weijun’s failed suicide attempt, Xie Yuping had been cold toward him. Xie Jinghu wanted his brother to see he was trying to save their marriage, but Zou Weijun was the one breaking their trust.
Xie Yuping, no fool, saw through Xie Jinghu’s tactics and sneered, “You can invest in a factory, but Weijun can’t buy land? Consult you? Consult you about what? You didn’t consult her when you went looking for other women.”
Xie Yuping’s words hit Xie Jinghu like a slap, leaving him uneasy.
Speechless, he mumbled, “That’s not the same thing…”
Xie Yuping had no patience for arguments. “It’s the same to me. Weijun is the Xie family’s daughter-in-law, and Xie Qian is your son. If a man doesn’t provide for his wife and son, where’s the money going? Never mind 70-80 million—even if she spent 780 million, you’d have to cough it up!”
780 million?
The mere thought of that figure drained the colour from Xie Jinghu’s face.
“Big brother, I can’t come up with 780 million. Jinhu doesn’t have that much cash!”
Xie Yuping sized up his younger brother, making him squirm, then scoffed, “Can’t come up with it? Then go earn it. I’m your brother—I supported you when you were young and I was already working. But now you have a wife and son, and you expect me to keep supporting them? I wasn’t finished earlier—Xie Qian’s land purchase in Shanghai used up Weijun’s savings, and it wasn’t enough, so he took out a loan. You’d better help him pay it back!”
Schooled by Xie Yuping, Xie Jinghu wanted to question Xie Qian’s judgment on the land deal, but Xie Yuping waved him off like a fly. “I don’t deal with this. If you have doubts, ask Xie Qian. You’re his father—pay more attention to him, communicate. I’m busy with work and don’t have time to be your messenger!”
Xie Jinghu’s face was grim as he left. Xie’s wife invited him to stay for dinner, but he forced a smile. “Sister-in-law, I have some business to attend to. I’ll pass on dinner.”
She could tell he wasn’t in the mood but was just being polite.
As Xie Jinghu left, Xie Tang emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of freshly fried meatballs, eating and laughing. “No idea what Dad said, but Uncle Three looks like he’s about to explode.”
What else? It had to be about Xie Qian’s land purchase.
Xie’s wife cleared her throat. “Stop eating and call Xie Qian. Ask if he’s coming back for dinner. If he’s free these days, he should spend time with your grandma.”
With Xie Qian at Grandma’s side, Xie Jinghu couldn’t vent his anger.
Otherwise, if Xie Jinghu pulled the “father” card and disciplined Xie Qian, the Xie family couldn’t interfere.
But with Grandma Xie there, Xie Jinghu wouldn’t dare touch a hair on Xie Qian’s head.
Xie Tang swallowed her meatballs, put down the bowl, and wiped her mouth. “I know where Xie Qian is. I’ll go find him myself.”
Xie Jinghu couldn’t lose his temper in front of Grandma or his niece, needing to save face.
Xie Tang grabbed a coat and rushed out.
…
Leaving Xie Yuping’s house, the cold air gradually cleared Xie Jinghu’s head.
The priority wasn’t confronting Zou Weijun but figuring out where Xie Qian bought the land and how much he spent. Xie Qian might hide it from him, but not from Xie Yuping. With Xie Yuping’s oversight, Xie Qian likely wasn’t conned.
As for the bank loan, Xie Yuping didn’t specify the amount, and Xie Jinghu’s heart raced at the thought of “780 million.” Could Xie Qian have spent the 70-80 million and taken out a 780 million loan? Unlikely—how could Xie Qian secure such a loan? If bank loans were that easy, why would Zhao Dong and Dai Chenglan bother seeking his investment?
Unless Xie Yuping personally intervened… but that was improbable. Xie Yuping valued his reputation and never secured loans for Jinhu Group, let alone for Xie Qian.
Xie Jinghu had been kept in the dark, but once Xie Yuping spoke, the details couldn’t stay hidden.
In January, Shanghai’s only billion-yuan land deal was Xie Qian’s. Xie Jinghu quickly pinpointed the location and transaction amount.
A “small” loan?
A full 100 million yuan!
Xie Jinghu’s temples throbbed; he didn’t need a doctor to know his blood pressure was soaring.
So, this wasn’t Xie Qian buying land—it was Zou Weijun transferring marital assets.
Xie Qian, already holding 4% of Jinhu Group’s shares, wasn’t satisfied. With the savings and the loan to repay, he’d siphoned off nearly 200 million from Xie Jinghu!
Everyone in their circle envied his “outstanding” son. Outstanding indeed—typical prodigals might blow millions on sports cars or celebrities, but Xie Qian? Stealing 200 million from his own father? Xie Jinghu had never heard of such a feat.
Without Xie Yuping’s support and Grandma’s tacit approval, Xie Qian and Zou Weijun couldn’t have pulled this off.
Xie Jinghu was furious, but even if he thrashed Xie Qian, the land couldn’t be returned.
No, he had to find a way to recoup some losses.
Unwilling to give up, he called Zou Weijun again—still busy.
He had his assistant call her Rongcheng residence’s landline. This time it connected, but the housekeeper, Aunt Liu, answered.
The assistant asked for “President Xie’s wife.” Aunt Liu hung up with a snap.
Normally, calls for Zou Weijun used her name or “Ms. Zou.” Asking for “President Xie’s wife” meant it was tied to Xie Jinghu. Aunt Liu had been instructed to ignore such calls.
The assistant didn’t dare speak or look at Xie Jinghu’s face.
Xie Jinghu gritted his teeth. “Find out where Xie Qian is. I want to see him in half an hour!”
…
Xie Qian was still at the same suburban villa, attending another birthday party.
He hadn’t wanted to come. With the New Year approaching, every household was lively, and he couldn’t return to Rongcheng until after the New Year’s Eve dinner. Since he was stuck in Beijing, he didn’t need to spend his days too quietly.
Surely his father wouldn’t show up at a party to drag him away.
This time, the party buzzed with more gossip about him. Everyone seemed to know about his strained relationship with Xie Jinghu. Some waited for his downfall, probing with taunts about why he’d gone to study in Rongcheng.
Compared to Beijing in 2005, Rongcheng was practically a large county town. Was Xie Qian crazy to study there?
Had his father exiled him?
“Xie Qian, say something! We’ve been friends for years. If you’re in trouble, don’t treat us like strangers. I can’t promise much, but I could scrape together a few hundred thousand to help.”
The young man speaking had dyed his hair golden last time Xie Qian saw him; now it was purple.
Thinking himself the height of fashion, he looked like a giant purple eggplant.
The human eggplant hovered around Xie Qian, making his eyes ache.
Though the tone was teasing, the offer of money was genuine. Xie Qian declined politely, “Thanks, but keep your money. I don’t need it.”
“Come on, don’t play tough. We’ve all been through times when our families cut us off—I get it—”
The purple eggplant persisted, but Xie Tang burst into the party, rushing upstairs.
“Xie Qian, why aren’t you answering your phone? Come with me—your dad’s coming for you!”
