Dinner, Deals, and Dangerous Intentions

By the time Zhao Guipu had personally paid compensation out of his own pocket to Boss Li on Wu Qie’s behalf, more than half a month had already passed.

Wu Qie only brought it up after his parents returned, saying he wanted to invite Mr. Zhao to a simple meal.

—When Wu Qie said this, both Wu Wenxiong and Li Junbi were shocked.

Li Junbi knew very well that ever since Wu Qie’s second differentiation failed, his personality had changed quite a bit.

As a child, he caused trouble every few days.

After becoming a Beta, they almost never received complaints from the school anymore.

For a long time, Li Junbi had worried that Wu Qie would fall into depression because of the result of his differentiation.

But reality proved otherwise.

He wasn’t depressed.

He just lived quietly and simply—going to university, then graduate school…

Just when Li Junbi thought her son would stay abroad and play professional basketball, maybe even settle down there—

Two days after finishing his master’s degree, Wu Qie appeared silently at their home in Penang.

At the time, Li Junbi was heading out to play cards.

When she saw the figure curled up on the staircase, she thought she had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

When asked, Wu Qie said the house had changed to a new lock.

The fingerprint scanner wouldn’t recognize him, he forgot the old password, and when he knocked, no one heard him.

—There were people at home.

No way no one heard him knocking.

He just… didn’t knock.

Seeing his calm expression, Li Junbi felt that something bad must have happened.

Something no less serious than his failed differentiation.

She wanted to ask, but stopped herself.

She clearly saw the resistance in her son’s eyes.

In the end, she simply opened the door, told the maid to clean up her “little vagrant master,” and went out.

After returning to the country, Wu Qie treated almost everything with an “whatever, who cares” attitude.

He drove a cheap domestic electric car with barely any modern tech.

He used an outdated phone so old even entry-level employees wouldn’t touch it.

He lived as if the Wu family were about to go bankrupt tomorrow.

Li Junbi couldn’t make sense of it no matter how much she thought about it.

When she finally gathered the courage to ask, he refused to answer.

And now, Wu Qie had done something else she couldn’t understand.

After his “personality mutation,” Zhao Guipu should have been exactly the type of person Wu Qie avoided the most.

So Li Junbi felt something was off and immediately initiated a full-on family interrogation.

Being groped on the butt by a stranger, flying into a rage, losing hundreds of thousands, nearly ruining Zhao Guipu’s business, and being threatened with being thrown into the sea…

That kind of story was… difficult to say out loud in front of his parents.

By the time he got to the part about being threatened with being dumped into the ocean, Wu Wenxiong might already be slapping his thigh laughing.

Not knowing where to start, the young master of the Wu family could only briefly mention what happened at the appreciation banquet.

He said he had gone to help a struggling student and accidentally ended up somewhere he shouldn’t have been.

He thought it was just running an errand—nothing serious.

Who knew it wasn’t an ordinary party?

And really, what kind of filial son holds that kind of party on his father’s death anniversary?

Then, in that setting, after being harassed by an Alpha, his emotions got the better of him and he ended up smashing Mr. Zhao’s event.

Li Junbi frowned as she listened.

“If something like the champagne tower got knocked over, you should’ve gone to the host to resolve it… and that classmate you mentioned is Zhao Shu’s classmate too. If you had gone to Zhao Shu, how could he possibly ignore it?”

Wu Qie hesitated.

Did she really think Zhao Shu was some kind-hearted Bodhisattva…?

Ignore it? He absolutely could.

Complaining internally, Wu Qie awkwardly shifted the blame.

“We had a bit of a conflict that day. We weren’t really speaking.”

Wu Qie and Zhao Shu fought every few days.

Not long ago, the Zhao family had even brought up breaking off the engagement.

The Wu parents knew this well.

So when Li Junbi heard this, she immediately focused on something else.

“Why are you two fighting again?”

Wu Qie hadn’t expected the topic to go there.

He leaned back, pressed his lips together, and put on a “go ahead and scold me” expression.

Li Junbi was helpless against that face and simply grabbed a magazine from the sofa and smacked his leg.

Wu Wenxiong, on the other hand, asked more directly.

“A’Qie, is it really impossible for you and Zhao Shu to make it work?”

Wu Qie opened his mouth to say yes.

But seeing his parents’ hesitation, he closed it again.

After a moment, he said more tactfully, “Most of the time… yes.”

Li Junbi paused.

She glanced at Wu Wenxiong.

And suddenly, Wu Qie understood what “mother and son connected by heart” meant.

From that single glance, he immediately guessed what his mother wanted to say:

If it doesn’t work, then don’t force it. Just break off the engagement.

But the implications of that sentence were too heavy.

Li Junbi couldn’t make that decision alone.

So she didn’t dare say it out loud and give Wu Qie hope she might not be able to fulfill.

Wu Wenxiong caught her look and frowned as well.

This question had come too suddenly.

—Ever since that day in the lounge, Wu Qie had been avoiding this issue.

Wu Qie smiled faintly.

“Stop exchanging looks. I know what you want—a top-tier Alpha to support me so the family business doesn’t fall apart in the future.”

That was too blunt.

Under the living room lights, Wu Wenxiong seemed to age ten years instantly.

Li Junbi’s eyes reddened immediately.

She couldn’t bring herself to say something like “why did you end up differentiating into a Beta”—that would only hurt everyone.

So she just leaned over, wrapped her arms around Wu Qie’s shoulders, and buried her face into his neck, breathing shakily.

For a long time, no one spoke.

Wu Qie felt miserable too.

But he didn’t even know who he was feeling miserable for.

At this critical moment, Wu Wenxiong slammed his hand down and made a decision.

For a split second, Wu Qie felt like his father was ahead of the times.

“If it doesn’t work, then don’t force it. We have our interests, and the Zhao family isn’t running a charity. Don’t feel guilty… but there’s no need to rush breaking off the engagement either.

There’s more than one suitable S-level Alpha in this world. A’Qie, you don’t have to entangle yourself with Zhao Shu—or even take him seriously—but we should keep our options open.”

That phrase—“keep our options open”—sounded absurdly trendy in the context of an engagement.

Wu Qie went silent.

His earlier sadness vanished instantly.

Li Junbi lifted her head and blinked.

“Oh.”

Then another, “Oh.”

Mother and son turned to look at Wu Wenxiong together, shocked at how reasonable he sounded today.

Wu Wenxiong waved his hand.

“S-level Alphas aren’t that rare. Didn’t you have a couple teammates abroad…”

Wu Qie: “You mean the ones who carry guns just to take out the trash in case of family feuds?”

Wu Wenxiong: “…Let’s look domestically.”

Wu Qie: “Right. Or we could ask Mr. Zhao. Who knows?”

Wu Wenxiong: “…”

Li Junbi: “…”

Wu Wenxiong: “You’re inviting Zhao Guipu to dinner with that intention? Planning a trap banquet? Go by yourself. I’ll give you the credit card. That’s as far as your dad can help—wish you success.”

Wu Qie: “…”

Wu Wenxiong: “Skipping the crown prince and going straight for the emperor. I underestimated you. Truly my son.”

Wu Qie: “…”

‘I was just joking. I absolutely don’t have that kind of courage.’

‘That much was clear the moment he threatened to throw me into the sea and I completely believed him.’

And so came this dinner after school.

Wu Qie stuffed Zhao Shu into his shabby little car.

They arrived slightly earlier than scheduled.

It wasn’t some extravagant private restaurant.

The parking lot was underground.

After parking, Wu Qie led Zhao Shu upstairs—and immediately spotted Zhao Guipu standing under the entrance, smoking.

The man wore a suit again today.

But his jacket was off, casually draped in his hand.

His tie hung loosely around his neck.

A dragonfly passed in front of him.

The sunset was crimson.

It looked like it might rain later.

Half his figure blended into the sunset.

Even his sharp features were softened by the light, giving him an illusion of gentleness.

As Wu Qie approached, Zhao Guipu seemed to sense him and looked over.

His brows relaxed slightly.

Through the drifting smoke, he smiled faintly.

“Right on time.”

Wu Qie led him inside.

The private room was just right for five or six people.

Since this was an apology dinner, Zhao Guipu naturally took the seat of honor.

He didn’t decline.

He sat down first.

Wu Qie instinctively stepped back to let Zhao Shu take the seat beside him.

But his little scheme failed.

Zhao Guipu casually glanced up.

Their eyes met across the chair.

His gaze felt like a mirror that exposed everything.

Wu Qie went silent, feeling stifled, and obediently sat down in the seat he had tried to give away.

Only then did Zhao Guipu look away, as if nothing had happened.

After Zhao Shu sat beside Wu Qie, he stared at the tableware and suddenly had an idea.

“I heard from Pei Qingyu that last time you had supper with him, you even rinsed his bowl for him.”

Wu Qie turned his head, confused.

Did this look like the kind of place where you needed to rinse your own bowl?

Beside them, Zhao Guipu didn’t even lift his head from his phone.

“A’Shu.”

“Don’t act crazy in public.”

This dinner wasn’t just Wu Qie bringing his father to clean up his mess and pay the bill.

The fact that Zhao Guipu agreed so easily likely meant he had intentions of cooperation with Wu Wenxiong.

Wu Qie might not be involved in the company now, but that didn’t mean he never would be.

So his father always kept him informed of major decisions.

For example, a year ago, when Wu Qie had just returned to the country, the Wu family abandoned their long-established trade base in Southeast Asia and moved to Jiangcheng—for one thing:

Chengxin Port.

This port, dating back to the 1970s, had long been controlled by a foreign-funded company—Julong Group.

For over thirty years, it had essentially remained in foreign hands.

The port included docks, freight yards, warehouses, container stations, hotels…

It controlled the economic lifeline of Jiangcheng and surrounding areas.

Such a vital asset should not remain in foreign hands.

As the head of the largest shipping company in Jiangcheng, Zhao Guipu had long found this intolerable.

Like a toll booth placed in front of your own house.

They collected fees but had no intention of maintaining or improving it.

Chengxin Port was like the old ships Zhao Guipu inherited—

Aging, worn, barely surviving.

Since he was seventeen, he had endured exploitation, waiting for the chance to take it back.

Only what belonged to you would truly be taken care of.

And now, finally, that opportunity had come.

The global economy had declined.

Old European families were struggling.

Julong Group was one of them.

Their parent company, the Walton family, had weakened generation after generation.

In Zhao Guipu’s words—the current leadership was worse than Zhao Shu.

After repeated investment failures, they had to sell off overseas assets to survive.

And Chengxin Port was now on the chopping block.

Zhao Guipu needed money.

A massive cash flow to buy shares.

Once he held over 31%, the port would be his.

Buying it required money.

Rebuilding it required even more.

So he turned to Wu Wenxiong.

At first, Wu Wenxiong wasn’t interested.

But Zhao Guipu convinced him.

“At our level, money is just numbers.”

“I want to see skyscrapers rise before my eyes.”

“I want to see three hundred thousand unemployed people return to work.”

“We should leave our mark on history.”

Wu Wenxiong thought about it all night.

The next day, he agreed.

“Last week, another three million shares were released. Any movement on your side?”

“Sold off in bits. No one has spare money these days to invest in a broken port.”

The teapot clinked softly against the glass table.

Zhao Guipu poured three cups of tea.

He placed one in front of Wu Wenxiong with a polite gesture.

Wu Wenxiong passed another to Li Junbi.

There was still an empty cup.

Wu Qie noticed Zhao Guipu shift slightly toward him.

He glanced at the tea—perfectly brewed.

But he had zero interest in tea.

So he looked back at Zhao Guipu.

Without a word, Zhao Guipu somehow understood.

He turned away as if nothing happened.

Wu Qie flipped through the menu, bored, trying to add more dishes.

This was his treat, after all.

Western food felt too casual.

This place—one chicken cost 688.

The plates better be solid gold.

Beside him, Zhao Shu was scrolling through lineup data for the upcoming training camp.

He handed his phone over.

“Which jump looks better, mine or theirs?”

Wu Qie didn’t care.

But to shut him up, he said, “Yours has more presence.”

Zhao Shu looked satisfied.

Meanwhile, Wu Wenxiong and Zhao Guipu joked about money.

Wu Qie’s scalp tingled listening to it.

If that butt grab was worth billions, he might as well switch careers.

No one paid attention to him.

“Some European companies want short-term leases—three times the usual price.”

“I almost agreed.”

“Then someone reminded me—if they’re offering that much, long-term leasing must be even more valuable.”

Wu Wenxiong nodded.

“You’re gambling against time.”

“Exactly.”

“I’d just take the cash.”

“Not yet. I want a three-year contract—and an oil route.”

Wu Wenxiong raised a brow.

“That’s bold. Who gave you that idea?”

At that moment, a bowl of duck soup was placed in front of Wu Qie.

The hand was steady, precise.

Not a drop spilled.

Zhao Guipu’s voice came, amused.

“A suggestion from an amateur.”

“Occasionally, it’s quite interesting to listen.”