Chapter 102: Tainted by Trouble

Because Shen Yanlie had temporarily left, Mo Shaoxing, as the top Eurasian executive, handled the company’s affairs in his stead. Yet, to a certain extent, the decisions Mo Shaoxing could make were very limited. In reality, he held no significant privileges—no shares, no real authority—merely serving as Shen Yanlie’s close personal assistant.

However, before departing, Shen Yanlie had given clear instructions: for major company matters, if Mo Shaoxing could not decide, he was to convene a meeting with the senior executives; for minor issues, Mo Shaoxing had full authority to act. Yet, when it came to a major plan like partnering with a Russian company, Mo Shaoxing considered convening a meeting with senior management a minor matter—such significant decisions required notifying Shen Yanlie.

Han Xinyao overlooked this. She only saw the dazzling man before her, radiant as if bathed in light. Standing beside her, guiding her, she felt like a favored student, as if this mentor wished to impart all his lifelong knowledge and wisdom to her.

Inwardly, she was overjoyed, but momentarily dazed. Gazing at Mo Shaoxing’s earnest profile, her heartbeat grew erratic, almost confused, until he noticed her silent pause and turned to meet her eyes.

“Secretary Han…” Mo Shaoxing parted his lips gently, trying to rouse her. “Secretary Han…” he called again.

Xinyao looked bewildered, at a loss.

“Let’s settle the plan like this,” Mo Shaoxing said, closing his ink brush and tossing it onto the desk.

“Oh…” Xinyao belatedly blushed, quickly lowering her gaze to the document before her, but her thoughts remained tangled in the earlier moment.

Mo Shaoxing nodded silently. “Send an email to the president.”

After speaking, his eyes lingered on Han Xinyao for a moment longer before he hurriedly left, heading toward the office door.

Xinyao seemed still not fully back to herself. Yet, the concern that had disturbed her moments ago seemed to have been touched upon by Mo Shaoxing.

“Assistant Mo…” she called out, halting him. Still rooted in place, she hesitated. “Is it really okay to send the email directly to the president like this?”

To her knowledge, before the president left, he had given special instructions: no matter what, Mo Shaoxing was to handle all company affairs, with senior executives stepping in only for major decisions. Sending such a proposal abruptly to the president seemed like courting trouble.

“Hm… then why don’t you organize it a bit more and send it to my inbox? I’ll take a quick look,” Mo Shaoxing said. Seeing Han Xinyao silent, he left first.

A month had passed since Shen Yanlie and Mai Xijun disappeared. Luo Youcong watched like a hawk. If Mai Xijun were truly to be with Shen Yanlie in the future, would this ordeal harm her?

Now, Mo Shaoxing’s sole worry was this question. More troubling, however, was a growing bad premonition, like the ominous verses given by the fortune tellers he had visited. He clearly understood that this matter was one he should not meddle in, yet he found himself unable to fully withdraw.

Could it be… his fate?

After all, every rumor has its cause, and every cause its consequence. But if his consequence was a fatal calamity, what was he to do? Where should he turn?

Night fell quietly, growing ever deeper, suffocating in its intensity.

Mo Shaoxing stood in his office until the city lights outside transformed into a kaleidoscope of neon colors. Then, with steady steps, one hand in his trouser pocket, he took the elevator down and drove to the Imperial International Club.

The Imperial International Club.

Here, what you see on the surface is opulence, but what you cannot see is the decadence it conceals. From the outside, its golden splendor dazzles; inside its grand hall, tranquility reigns, utterly at odds with the image one might expect—worlds apart.

If you think the Imperial is a place of reckless debauchery and squander, you are mistaken.

And if you think it’s just a luxurious den of pleasure, you are gravely wrong. Beneath its calm exterior, the Imperial is as turbulent as any battlefield. Like every leader in the business world, its players wear serenity as a mask, while their hearts burn with greed and ambition.

The acquisition of the Lu Corporation was still recent, almost surreal, as if it were a dream. Lu Chengfeng, once a formidable and charismatic figure in the market, had become gaunt and fallen from grace. One fateful night, a seemingly playful gambling session at the Imperial cost him everything—he lost miserably, disgracefully.

The vast corridor was bathed in golden light from a massive Italian crystal chandelier, exuding extravagant decadence.

Mo Shaoxing pushed open the half-closed door of a VIP room on the seventh floor. Its ajar state did not surprise him.

“You’re here,” a man said, eyes half-shut, tone indifferent, as if he had been waiting patiently for a long time.

Only a small wall lamp lit the room; the rest was shrouded in darkness. The man sat on an imported leather sofa, his unshaven face lending him a weathered, world-weary look. Between his index and middle fingers, a cigarette glowed as he drew deep, occasionally sighing and exhaling emerald-tinged smoke.

“I don’t do things like kicking someone when they’re down. Nor do I have the leisure for trivial pleasures.”

So, speak plainly… no time for idle chatter.

Mo Shaoxing did not beat around the bush. Though Lu Chengfeng had a good relationship with Luo Youcong, this did not mean Mo Shaoxing shared the same refined concerns. First, Lu Chengfeng’s affairs did not concern him. Second, he did not want to invite trouble unnecessarily, though trouble seemed to have found him regardless.

“Heh. You can betray and sell out, yet still paint yourself as so noble,” Lu Chengfeng sneered, twitching his lips mockingly, flicking ashes into the ashtray.

Mo Shaoxing remained silent, standing in the shadows. The man was illuminated, but the truly brazen one was not him.

They say the enemy lurks in the dark while you stand in the light—you must be ever vigilant. Though the warning may be harsh, Lu Chengfeng’s words carried a heavy tone of provocation and bitter irony.

Watching Mo Shaoxing turn to leave, Lu Chengfeng showed no urgency or concern, or perhaps he simply did not care, for he said:

“Your worth far exceeds being used by Luo Youcong. You can leave him anytime. After all, he is a fickle man. If one day he no longer needs you, once you know too much, he will destroy you.”

Lu Chengfeng stubbed out his nearly burnt cigarette, raising his eyes. Mo Shaoxing indeed paused as he predicted. Then Lu Chengfeng leisurely lit another cigarette.

“You’re smart. Otherwise, you wouldn’t navigate so deftly between Luo Youcong and Shen Yanlie. So I’ll be frank: let’s… cooperate.”

His voice was heavy, hoarse from too much smoking, earnest yet hinting at a deep hope that Mo Shaoxing would agree, would leave room for a partnership. After all, reclaiming the Lu Corporation alone was not impossible—but utterly improbable.

Mo Shaoxing found the notion somewhat amusing. The faint smile that crept at the corner of his mouth lasted but a moment, laced with cold arrogance and disdain for such alliances.

“Don’t you think it would be more effective to go directly to President Luo, to ask for his help in reclaiming Lu Corporation?” Coming to him was just diving into this mess.

Lu Chengfeng’s hand stiffened as he brought a cigarette to his lips, holding for about five seconds before lowering it, flicking the ash. “Luo Youcong won’t help me. If he would, he’d have done it already. Besides, he doesn’t hold onto what’s useless.”

Mo Shaoxing had not expected to find Lu Chengfeng so lost, like a helpless child forced to be strong because no one else would be.

Yet, life is like chess; we are all merely pawns.

Mo Shaoxing never denied Lu Chengfeng’s words were truthful. But compared to Lu Chengfeng, who once had the Lu Corporation as a backing, Mo Shaoxing’s position before Luo Youcong was less enviable. He had only one asset—his life. The most precious and yet most fragile thing in the world.

Now, Mo Shaoxing had to tread carefully. One misstep could lose everything. What troubled him most was Lu Chengfeng’s offer. What did it truly mean? Rumors never arise without cause. If Lu Chengfeng genuinely sought his help, it was not entirely impossible. After all, Mo Shaoxing had been by Shen Yanlie’s side so long, intimately familiar with everything.

But there was another possibility… Luo Youcong was testing him. Luo Youcong was naturally suspicious; he might be probing Mo Shaoxing’s loyalty.

With this thought, Mo Shaoxing met Lu Chengfeng’s gaze, as if seeking more answers.

Yet, from Lu Chengfeng’s angle, dimly lit, he could barely discern Mo Shaoxing’s expression. As always, Mo Shaoxing was neither expressive in emotion nor anger in appearance. Lu Chengfeng could see nothing definitive.