The family squabbles in Rongcheng’s Wen household, even when sharp-tongued, carried a warmth.
Beijing’s Xie family was a different story.
The rift between Xie Jinghu and Xie Qian had become irreconcilable, their discord the talk of the capital’s social circles. The spoiled heirs admired Xie Qian—stealing two hundred million from his father made him a role model for their dreams of success.
Xie Jinghu must be furious.
But it didn’t dent Xie Qian’s standing.
Without help, how could a high schooler like Xie Qian pull off such a heist?
The Xie family must have tacitly approved.
Xie Jinghu, angry as he was, couldn’t touch Xie Qian, which only underscored Xie Qian’s solid position in the family.
Daily, people tried to hang out with Xie Qian, all rebuffed.
If not for the New Year’s Eve family dinner, Xie Qian would’ve returned to Rongcheng already.
Old Lady Xie, thinking of Zou Weijun spending the New Year alone in Rongcheng, pitifully solitary, scheduled the dinner for noon so Xie Qian could catch an afternoon flight back.
At the Xie family estate, father and son crossed paths. Xie Jinghu glanced at Xie Qian sideways, saying nothing as he passed.
He didn’t greet Xie Qian, and Xie Qian acted as if he didn’t see him.
The tension between them made Xie Yuping frown.
“What did you and your dad talk about?”
“My dad asked how I plan to develop the land. He seemed willing to fund me, but I didn’t want to burden him, so I declined.”
Xie Qian spoke tactfully, but Xie Yuping caught the subtext.
Knowing Xie Jinghu, he wouldn’t willingly cover the loan, only doing so under pressure from Xie Yuping and Old Lady Xie.
Funding the land purchase and then helping develop it? That didn’t sound like Xie Jinghu.
Unless he wanted the land, using development as a pretext to maneuver for ownership.
“Ignore him.”
How to develop the land shouldn’t be rushed. Shanghai’s government gave two years, plenty of time to plan. Who knew what might change? Xie Qian might not need Xie Jinghu’s help to develop it.
Xie Yuping had full confidence in Xie Qian, who was open with him.
Xie Qian saw the old building materials factory’s prime location. Lacking funds to develop now, he couldn’t let nearly two hundred million sit idle—every second was money.
The loan was Xie Jinghu’s to repay, so Xie Qian didn’t care about the principal or interest. But since the land was his, leaving it unused hurt his own interests.
“You have other ideas?”
Xie Yuping was delighted.
Even if Xie Qian’s ideas were naive, it showed he was thinking. Xie Yuping adored this kid, who remained humble despite owning assets worth hundreds of millions.
“I want to renovate the factory simply—paint the walls, level the ground, low cost—then lease it out.”
Such a large plot was unaffordable for most small or medium enterprises in Shanghai, who lacked nearly two hundred million to buy land.
Big firms with that money would buy cheaper suburban land for new buildings, not compete for old sites.
But growing SMEs, needing to save costs and maintain cash flow, couldn’t afford to buy—they leased spaces for offices or production.
Xie Qian knew the factory was run-down, but new windows, paint, and ground leveling wouldn’t cost much. Two years of rent could cover his personal investment.
As for what kind of businesses to lease to, Xie Qian had ideas but would assess the situation.
He wouldn’t neglect his studies. Gong Sheng, who helped broker the land deal and was well-connected in Shanghai, could find suitable tenants for a fee Xie Qian was willing to pay.
“You kid…”
Xie Yuping couldn’t help but laugh, his crow’s feet smoothing out.
Xie Qian’s school commitments limited his business focus, but with his foresight, a few years of experience could see him running Jinhu Group.
Xie Yuping viewed his nephew through rose-tinted glasses, growing fonder. At the reunion dinner, he kept Xie Qian close.
Xie Qian sat between Old Lady Xie and Xie Yuping, the family’s favorite.
Others might envy him, but among the younger Xies, Xie Tang pitied him, Xie Qi was too carefree to care about seating, and Xie Qian’s junior high cousin, always in awe of him, avoided the spotlight seat, fearing elders’ questions about her grades.
Only Cousin Xie Qian could handle the elders’ doting!
Xie Jinghu, prejudiced against his son, was less broad-minded than the younger generation. Halfway through the dinner, he half-joked, half-seriously remarked on Xie Qian’s “aloofness.”
“My son doesn’t want my help, says he’ll develop the land himself. With such ambition, I, as his father, can only respect his wishes.”
Their villa conversation was twisted by Xie Jinghu for public airing.
Old Lady Xie lost her appetite, and the family was speechless.
Xie Qian set down his chopsticks, wiping his mouth slowly: “No need for that. I know you’re reluctant to spend on me. I said I don’t need your help with the Shanghai land, and I stand by that before the family. Even if I can’t develop it and must sell, I’ll avoid Jinhu Group, not using your money to fill my gaps. Satisfied?”
Confirming Xie Jinghu’s words, Xie Qian didn’t please him.
Xie Jinghu realized only then: even if Xie Qian lacked funds to develop, he could sell the land before Shanghai’s deadline!
Xie Qian bought it with his money, Xie Jinghu repaid the loan, but Xie Qian could cash out anytime.
This thought made Xie Jinghu uneasy.
He meant to ruin Xie Qian’s appetite, but now his own was gone.
Enduring his mother and brother’s glares, Xie Jinghu teased: “Giving up so easily isn’t your style. The two hundred million, if banked, would earn hefty interest in two years. You bought land, losing deposit interest, while I repay loan interest. If you sell to others out of spite, aren’t you using Xie family capital to enrich others?”
The table fell silent.
Nothing satisfied Xie Jinghu—he just didn’t want Xie Qian buying the land.
A biased heart couldn’t be swayed. At the family dinner, Xie Jinghu hounded Xie Qian, likely to force a promise.
Like, if Xie Qian couldn’t develop in two years, he’d transfer the land to Xie Jinghu?
Clearly, Xie Jinghu wanted the land, money out of one pocket back to another—quite the scheme!
“I used Xie family money to buy the land. Profit or loss depends on my ability. Even if I lose, how is that enriching others with Xie capital? Are you forcing me to drop the ‘Xie’ surname? That’s simple—”
“Xie Qian!”
Xie Yuping cut him off, stopping words that would break Old Lady Xie’s heart.
The elderly couldn’t bear hearing Xie Qian reject the family name.
Xie Qian fell silent. Xie Yuping turned to Xie Jinghu: “It’s a fine reunion dinner, but you’re ruining everyone’s appetite, including the kids’. Must I spell it out to shame you? The land’s bought—profit’s great, it shows Xie Qian’s vision. If he loses, so what? No business is always smooth. He’s young—never making mistakes would make you, his father, look utterly incompetent!”
Xie Yuping scolded Xie Jinghu publicly, leaving him humiliated. Xie Jinghu defended himself: “Big brother, deep love means tough standards. I have high hopes for Xie Qian. He’s been smart since childhood, adored by family, praised by outsiders. If I, his father, indulge him, who’ll rein him in? My doubts are for his good. I can afford the loss, but Xie Qian must learn.”
“What are you really saying? Stop circling!”
Xie Yuping’s patience was thin, urging Xie Jinghu to be direct.
Xie Jinghu, prepared for the dinner, spoke clearly: “If Xie Qian can develop the land profitably or sell it in two years with over 20% annual return, I’ll acknowledge his investment savvy, allowing him to intern at Jinhu Group during university, preparing to inherit it. If he fails both, I’ll send him abroad to study, away from the Xie family’s comforts, to broaden his horizons and sharpen his mind before talking succession!”
A 20% annual return was high, but with Shanghai’s rising property prices driving land values, failing to hit 20% meant poor judgment.
Xie Jinghu could achieve it, or Jinhu Group wouldn’t be this size.
The land cost nearly two hundred million, so Xie Qian needed nearly eighty million in net profit from a sale in two years to earn Xie Jinghu’s approval.
As for developing it himself… Xie Jinghu’s firm words implied Xie Qian had no chance without family help.
Xie Jinghu bet on Xie Qian’s poor judgment, expecting the land’s value to rise little, or even planning to secretly suppress prices if Xie Qian sold.
He wanted Xie Qian to lose.
If Xie Qian lost, he’d obediently study abroad.
The duration abroad would be Xie Jinghu’s call, barring Xie Qian from Jinhu Group.
Xie Jinghu’s reasoning—broadening horizons, sharpening minds—was so righteous no one could fault him.
But his true intent was clear to all but Xie’s junior high daughter. He was goading his son, setting a trap!
