Teacher Zhou entered the room. Zhao Ping Jin remained standing in the living room. Only mother and son were left in the house. Teacher Zhou moved in and out of the room, her anger having subsided considerably. Her previous stern demeanor had been partly for her daughter-in-law’s benefit. This matter was Zhao Ping Jin’s fault and he deserved to be reprimanded. She originally didn’t want to interfere in the young couple’s affairs, but having children was an important family matter: “Zhou’er, what exactly do you want?”

Zhao Ping Jin’s mood had returned to what it was when he first entered, with a thin smile on his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. His words were polite: “Teacher Zhou, you arranged for your son to get married, and now what? Your mission isn’t complete, so you’re arranging for me to have children next?”

Madam Zhou took a deep breath and pursed her lips, the wrinkles on her face deepening: “You got married but don’t want children. Have you asked your wife if she agrees with that?”

Zhao Ping Jin glanced at his mother, lowering his eyelids: “You should get some rest.”

He turned and walked toward the study on the first floor. Teacher Zhou followed him: “Zhou’er!”

Zhao Ping Jin turned at the doorway, his eyes showing hidden despondency, with a trace of resentment: “I’ll tell you truthfully, I simply don’t want to have children.”

Madam Zhou’s footsteps halted abruptly. She stood at the entrance of the study, her lips slightly parted, stunned for quite a while. She slowly put away her loving and tolerant expression and said coldly: “Zhou’er, don’t be willful. This family cannot afford to make any mistakes. You cannot bear the consequences.”

Zhao Ping Jin stood holding the back of a chair, then gave a tired smile. Madam Zhou looked at her son and called softly: “Zhou’er…”

Zhao Ping Jin stood before the large desk in the study. This north-wing study faced the courtyard, with a crabapple tree planted by the window. The furniture was quite old, the reddish-brown huali wood desk emitting a deep, distant fragrance. The old master had loved to bring him here to play since he was little. Later, when he was four or five, he began practicing calligraphy. Being small, the old master had specially ordered a small stool made for him. He would stand on that low stool, leaning on the desk to write as the old master watched him lovingly with his hands behind his back. Later, in middle school, whenever his father returned home, he would summon him here. Sometimes when he had gotten into big trouble, his father would catch him and give him a severe beating.

He pulled open the drawers one by one, looked inside, then pushed them back. When he reached the last cabinet, he casually took out a small object from a box and rubbed it in his palm. He spoke intermittently: “I know why you don’t like her. I understood at first… You’ve suffered for many years, my father rarely at home, you running back and forth between south and north. I didn’t blame you then, just thought that over time, you would understand I’m not like my father…”

The study was silent. Zhao Ping Jin’s deep, hoarse voice drifted about, seeming to echo. Teacher Zhou turned her face aside, raising her hand to quietly wipe tears from the corners of her eyes.

Zhao Ping Jin’s voice suddenly lowered, yet was unusually clear, each word cold as iron: “But you cannot bully her.”

Madam Zhou was startled upon hearing this, then gently shook her head: “It seems Ying Zi wasn’t wrong.”

Zhao Ping Jin laughed silently: “She doesn’t know what’s going on, but you do, don’t you?”

Madam Zhou frowned in disapproval: “What’s in the past is in the past. You’re a married man now, you should know what’s important.”

Zhao Ping Jin asked chillingly: “Who is so eager for things to be over? Is it you, or Lu Xiao Jiang?”

Teacher Zhou finally understood. She showed a hint of comprehension, saying calmly: “No wonder you beat Xiao Jiang so badly.”

Zhao Ping Jin’s brows were so dark they could bring a storm.

Madam Zhou looked at her son: “If I hadn’t stopped you back then, given how suddenly your uncle passed away afterward if I hadn’t stabilized the Yu family, would you be standing here making a scene with me now?”

Zhao Ping Jin stood stunned for several seconds, then suddenly burst into laughter, a cold, bone-chilling laugh. “So I should thank you? Thank you for bestowing wealth and honor on me. And thank you and Lu Xiao Jiang for your well-coordinated act?”

The veins on Zhao Ping Jin’s forehead bulged, his face pale with anger, his features almost distorted with fury and mockery, yet a smile still hung on his lips, though it looked more like crying: “Because of Qi Ling’s matter, Xiao Jiang holds a grudge against me. Everyone in the family compound knows this. What I don’t understand is, did you have to focus on this small rift between childhood friends? Didn’t you just use his father’s situation to intimidate him for all these years? You’re my mother, is this how you treat your son? What? Lu Xiao Jiang’s mother still has the nerve to come complain to you? Even if I broke his arm, even if I slapped him right in the face, what could she do to me!”

“Zhou’er, don’t be too insolent!” Madam Zhou shouted angrily: “I knew it, all for that ill-mannered girl, you’ve done so many outrageous things. Think about it, is this what a good girl should do?”

Zhao Ping Jin gritted his teeth, holding back his temper that was on the verge of explosion: “She was just a nice girl, what did she do? Her biggest misfortune in this life was knowing me, Zhao Ping Jin! She’s just a young girl, without support or help. How important a person are you, Teacher Zhou, Teacher Zhou—You are my mother, I can’t do anything to you. Regarding having children, I indeed cannot disrespect Ying Zi’s opinion, but let me tell you, if this matter were solely up to me, I wouldn’t want to have children for the rest of my life, and you couldn’t do anything about it!”

Teacher Zhou stood motionless, her back straight, her suit neat, her voice devoid of any emotion: “Zhou’er, don’t be too willful. If you’re being difficult, I cannot keep that little girl.”

Zhao Ping Jin’s gaze fixed firmly on his mother’s face. Suddenly, he curled his lips and said lightly: “Is this how you threatened my father back then? Did he love you more afterward?”

In just an instant, Teacher Zhou’s pupils contracted slightly, her body suddenly trembling. The next second, a slap came flying. His mother had aged, becoming much shorter these past years. This slap landed on half his face and neck. Zhao Ping Jin didn’t move at all. His face stung, and infinite desolation welled up in his heart.

Teacher Zhou breathed heavily, calling out painfully: “If mom hadn’t loved and protected you, how could you be so reckless in the Zhao family? Back then, your father’s woman outside was said to be pregnant with a son too!”

Teacher Zhou’s tears fell, her hair disheveled, her appearance suddenly aging ten years. Zhao Ping Jin concealed his astonishment, suddenly smiling gently. That smile was serene and peaceful, yet had a bone-deep despair: “My father wronged you, I know you suffered. This marriage can’t be dissolved, I know that too. I’ll live my life properly, but let me make this clear—your son is useless, if you dare touch her, take my life first.”

After speaking, he casually put down the object he’d been playing with and walked out of the study. Madam Zhou glanced at the desktop.

On the desk was a small bottle-shaped metal object, round-headed, with a lead core, a dull copper-yellow color emitting a cold light—a bullet from a type 64 domestic handgun. Madam Zhou suddenly shuddered, steadying herself against the table, her lips trembling: “Until now, I didn’t know you hated your mother so much.”

Zhao Ping Jin’s footsteps paused for two seconds. Without turning back, he took a few steps, hearing Teacher Zhou’s wailing sobs erupt in the study. He walked upstairs with his head down, step by step, feeling increasingly uncomfortable, his heart throbbing painfully as if being twisted by a knife.

At the Beijing Innovation Building’s board office. Shen Min had other work today and wasn’t attending the board meeting. He checked his watch, seeing it was almost time, stopped his work, and went up to the conference room. Zhao Ping Jin’s secretary nodded toward the meeting room across: “It’s not over yet.”

Shen Min waited a while longer. Around 10 in the morning, the conference room door opened, and several assistants accompanied several general managers and engineers filing out. When most people had dispersed, Shen Min pushed open the door and entered. Zhao Ping Jin was still sitting in the main seat, separated by a large round table. The board secretary was collecting and organizing documents. The secretary glanced secretly at Zhao Ping Jin; as long as the leader didn’t leave, he wouldn’t dare to.

Shen Min entered, cleared his throat, and instructed: “You can go out first.” The secretary collected the documents and left. Seeing it was him, Zhao Ping Jin casually closed the notebook computer beside him. There was a thin layer of cold sweat on his forehead, though his face remained calm, just slightly pale.

Shen Min asked softly: “How are you?” Zhao Ping Jin shook his head indicating he was fine, supporting himself on the table to stand up. Shen Min helped pull his chair out.

In the spacious conference room, only the two of them remained. Zhao Ping Jin didn’t speak, taking steps toward the exit. Shen Min didn’t dare breathe heavily, just quietly followed half a step behind him, keeping his eyes fixed on the person in front, not daring to relax for a moment. Zhao Ping Jin’s steps were slow, but still steady. The two silently walked through the corridor toward his office.

Secretary, He was typing a contract document in Zhao Ping Jin’s office area. Seeing the boss enter, he immediately stood up. Shen Min handed the meeting minutes to Secretary He, saying seriously: “I have important work to report to Director Zhao. Don’t let anyone in.” Secretary He quickly nodded. Shen Min turned to open the door to his office.

Zhao Ping Jin walked in, cold sweat flowing down his forehead and into his eyes, causing a stinging pain. He could no longer see clearly, only hearing Shen Min behind him closing the door with a click. He slowly exhaled, unable to suppress the pain any longer. His vision darkened, and he lost consciousness.

When he regained consciousness, he was lying on the sofa. Shen Min was sitting beside the sofa. Zhao Ping Jin glanced at him, then closed his eyes again. Waves of dizziness continued before his eyes, cold sweat had soaked through his shirt, and he was already dazed with pain.

Shen Min’s expression was very serious. Seeing him open his eyes, his first words were: “You can’t continue working like this. Let me arrange for you to rest.” Zhao Ping Jin frowned without speaking.

While Shen Min thought this way, he also found it difficult. Previously, when Zhao Ping Jin worked at Beijing Innovation, it was his own company, and he could do as he pleased. Added to his extremely high work standards, sometimes after completing one or two key projects, his body would overwork, which was common. Shen Min was also used to arranging for him to be hospitalized for a week of rest after busy periods. Now that he had returned to the Zhongyuan Group, not only were his responsibilities greater, but he was also surrounded by financial wolves and tigers. Arranging who he met in the evenings and who he dined with couldn’t be taken lightly, let alone avoiding internal work and meetings within the group. If Zhao Ping Jin were to be hospitalized for rest, it could only be done secretly. If news leaked out, the situation that had just stabilized might face new turbulence.

Shen Min said softly to him: “Last night, the nanny called me in the middle of the night.” Zhao Ping Jin’s face darkened.

After thinking for a while, Zhao Ping Jin said to Shen Min: “Have Secretary He buy a gift today and send it to Teacher Zhou’s office.” Shen Min agreed. Zhao Ping Jin thought for a few more seconds: “Make it two gifts, send one to the home in Xia Gong Fu.”

Shen Min sat beside him, his hands pressing on his thighs. After pondering for a moment, he still said: “Bu Yu Shu likely has other intentions. There have been contacts with that side these two days. The two met at Ju Yuan Zhai last night.” Zhao Ping Jin raised his hand to press against his forehead, saying hoarsely: “Have Zhao Yuan closely monitor the projects he’s handling.”

Shen Min said: “Noted.” “You mentioned last time that Old Bu has a son?” “Yes, he’s the head of the engineering section in the Planning and Construction Department. Last year, the heritage site restoration project he was responsible for was done well, and the higher-ups were quite satisfied.”

Zhao Ping Jin pressed his hand on his abdomen, frowning and applying pressure for a good while before saying: “I remember the design plans for that project came from our company?” “Yes, approved by Director Yan.” “When it came up for signature, I looked at it. The wastage on the drawings was too high. Look into this matter privately, keep a copy of all materials, and focus on investigating the financial budget.” “Understood.”

Shen Min watched as his face turned increasingly pale. It had been half an hour since he took the medicine, yet there was no sign of improvement. He helped him up and walked toward the inner restroom: “Go in and sleep for a while. I’ll have the secretary come and call you later.”