Peng Guoguo, overworked from recent tutoring, was slow to react. When his mother asked, he blurted out the amount in his piggy bank.
“That’s it?!”
Mrs. Peng let slip, startling Peng Guoguo, who asked, “How much did you think I had?”
Mrs. Peng thought there’d be more.
She often showered Peng Guoguo with money, but she had a rough idea of how much he spent.
Before her son could fully recover, Mrs. Peng issued an order, “Hand over your pocket money. I’ll round it up to a whole number. Take it to invest in Xie Qian’s company. He’s in a tough spot and needs funds now. If you wait too long, he might not even accept your money!”
Mrs. Peng didn’t need to know why Xie Qian took over a film company, but a little digging told her he was in trouble.
A young boss parachuting in struggled to gain respect, with old-timers ganging up to hold him back. Xie Qian needed “close allies” now!
Investing his pocket money in Xie Qian didn’t faze Peng Guoguo.
Since arriving in Rongcheng, his lifestyle had changed drastically. Wen Ying and her crew weren’t short on cash, but none of them indulged in lavish spending, so Peng Guoguo’s pocket money went unspent.
In the capital, he knew every fun hotspot like the back of his hand.
In Rongcheng, he hadn’t a clue where to have fun. Under Teacher Liang’s whip, he only knew which bookstore had the best study guides!
How pathetic!
Recalling how Xie Qian once refused his “loan,” Peng Guoguo lacked confidence, “…Xie Qian might not want my money.”
Mrs. Peng encouraged him, “How will you know if you don’t try? What’s wrong with your money? Is your hundred yuan only worth fifty?”
The money wasn’t the issue, the person was.
But with Xie Qian short on funds, he likely wouldn’t reject Peng Guoguo’s timely help.
Xie Qian was sharp. If he truly disliked Peng Guoguo, he’d have sent him back to the capital long ago, not tolerated him lingering in his circle!
Mrs. Peng was confident, and with her reassurance, Peng Guoguo mustered the courage to approach Xie Qian with his money.
Xie Qian frowned at Peng Guoguo’s intention, “You want to invest in Jiaxin?”
Peng Guoguo nodded eagerly, “Is that okay? I’ve been studying hard lately, ask Teacher Liang if you don’t believe me!”
—What did studying hard have to do with investing in Jiaxin?
Studying was for Peng Guoguo’s own benefit, not Xie Qian’s. Xie Qian felt Peng Guoguo’s attitude wasn’t quite right and wasn’t keen on letting him become a Jiaxin shareholder… Peng Guoguo seemed fine now, but Xie Qian trusted his cousin-in-law, Jiang Youjia, more. Just days ago, Jiang Youjia confirmed that 5 million yuan was nearly secured.
Jiaxin Film Company, older than Tianjiao, had produced hits with good ratings and reputation, but in recent years, neglected by Xie Jinghu, its business shrank drastically. It didn’t even have a decent signed artist, far behind Tianjiao’s momentum.
Wen Ying spent 10 million yuan for only 12% of Tianjiao’s shares, while Jiang Youjia’s 5 million could buy about 10% of Jiaxin’s. The former was on the rise, the latter showed little promise.
Any sensible investor would pick Tianjiao, but Peng Guoguo was throwing money at Jiaxin, either out of unique judgment or ulterior motives.
Xie Qian figured it was the latter.
He had a hunch why.
But it wasn’t worth it.
Taking a few million now could mean cleaning up Peng Guoguo’s messes later, not a good deal!
Things were fine as is. If Peng Guoguo wanted to improve, Xie Qian could lend a hand without taking responsibility. Helping was a favour, not helping wouldn’t draw blame.
Facing Peng Guoguo’s hopeful gaze, Xie Qian refused outright, “Jiaxin doesn’t need—”
Ding-a-ling.
A call interrupted Xie Qian. It was Jiang Youjia.
Jiang Youjia’s voice was unusually glum, and Xie Qian sensed trouble.
Sure enough, Jiang Youjia delivered bad news, the 5 million yuan couldn’t arrive on time.
Over the phone, Jiang Youjia didn’t elaborate, only saying the funds were unavailable and apologising repeatedly.
“It’s fine, I’ll figure something else out. Let’s talk in person,” Xie Qian reassured Jiang Youjia, hung up, and looked at Peng Guoguo’s face.
Peng Guoguo’s money was still money, and it was cash.
Money was money, right?
For the first time, Xie Qian questioned his decision slightly. Wen Ying had become a Tianjiao shareholder, and Jiaxin needed changes urgently. Accepting Peng Guoguo’s investment seemed the only option now—either him or Wang Shuang. More lice don’t itch, it wasn’t a big deal!
Xie Qian picked up where he left off, “Jiaxin doesn’t need money.”
“Huh?”
Peng Guoguo wilted like a frostbitten eggplant. As expected, he couldn’t even give money to Xie Qian!
Before he could wallow too long, Xie Qian’s tone shifted, bending for the 5 million but still lofty, “Jiaxin only needs like-minded shareholders.”
Eh?
Peng Guoguo’s head shot up, “Like-minded?!”
—Wasn’t that him?
What’s like-minded? Whatever Xie Qian said, he’d do. Wasn’t that enough?
Peng Guoguo happily handed over the money to Xie Qian.
Unlike Wen Ying, who had to figure out how to explain her Tianjiao share purchase to her parents, Peng Guoguo’s investment in Jiaxin was fully supported by Mr. and Mrs. Peng.
Back in the capital, Mrs. Peng visited her husband at their company. For once, she didn’t snipe at his new secretary, instead praising Peng Guoguo’s recent progress, boasting that her son was always a good seed. Boys mature late, but once they do, they grow fast.
Mr. Peng agreed but was more rational.
Even with parental bias, he acknowledged the gap between Peng Guoguo and Xie Qian, commenting fairly, “Hanging around Tai Wu and that lot in the capital was a waste of time. Whether he can improve his studies in Rongcheng is secondary. Following smart people, he won’t choose a bad path. Even if the millions are lost, the Peng family can afford the tuition.”
Mrs. Peng rolled her eyes.
Her son was studying late into the night, why shouldn’t he get results?
This jerk just looked down on people!
Looking down on her son was looking down on her. Mrs. Peng was furious and, under the pretext of buying property for Peng Guoguo in Shanghai, demanded another 5 million from Mr. Peng.
Mr. Peng signed the cheque without hesitation.
Buying property in a big city wouldn’t lose money. Whether it was lost tuition or buying a house, it was all for their son, and Mr. Peng didn’t hesitate.
If he wasn’t quick to pay, Mrs. Peng would be mad. Too quick, and she was still unhappy, storming off with the cheque.
…
While Mrs. Peng cashed the cheque at a bank in the capital, Wen Dongrong was sneezing like crazy at work.
For days, he didn’t know why, but his eyelids kept twitching, alternating between left and right, making him jittery at work.
That evening, leaving the office, he saw Wen Ying at the entrance and realised why his eyelids were jumping.
Hearing Wen Ying’s purpose, Wen Dongrong’s head buzzed.
Wen Ying had been giving him 1,000 yuan monthly as filial money. He’d gone from uneasy to accepting it comfortably, falling fast.
Taking money meant solving problems, and Wen Dongrong was mentally prepared. But when the day came, he couldn’t accept it, 1,000 yuan in filial money for a 10-million-yuan mess? What kind of rotten deal was that!
