Eight

A company without employees is not as frightening as one might imagine. This was the conclusion Mo Mo Zhang reached after half a month of experience. After all, there were no decent major clients; all their business came from a handful of humble bun shops and noodle stalls on the street. At this pace, she and Fei Dong were enough to handle everything.

Yet the days were so uneventful that it unsettled her. Sure enough, on a Thursday afternoon, Mo Mo Zhang was unexpectedly summoned to Uncle Hu’s house by a phone call.

The study, rich in antique charm, was a place she had visited a year ago. As she reached the doorway, she paused, reluctant to step inside for reasons she couldn’t explain. An uneasy premonition hovered over her—today, like before, would end in a sleepless night.

“The printing factory has been acquired by Sheng Lian.”

As a director’s notice and acquisition terms landed in her hands, Mo Mo Zhang, just about to sit, sprang up as if she’d been pricked by a cactus.

“Uncle Hu, how could this happen?!”

“Don’t be hasty,” the old man waved his hand, his face full of helplessness. “From the beginning, I didn’t approve of you handing your father’s Dong Yin entirely over to Nian Qing. Your sister is a good girl, but she’s too soft-hearted.”

Mo Mo Zhang was dumbstruck. Her mouth hung open for a long time, unsure what to say. At last she came to herself, hurried over to the old man with her hands twisted anxiously together.

“No! Uncle Hu, this can’t be! The printing factory was passed down from my grandfather; my father poured his life into it. This factory bears the Zhang name! It cannot change to Xiang!”

The old man slowly shook his head. After a long pause, he sighed.

“It’s too late; Nian Qing has already signed. Mo Mo, as your father’s close friend, I personally don’t support this acquisition. But as a shareholder in Dong Yin, I must admit that having Sheng Lian behind us might be good for Dong Yin’s future. Try to see it from that angle.”

“No!” Before he could finish, Mo Mo Zhang stood stubbornly upright, her voice raised with defiance. The two documents in her hands weighed heavily, suffocating her. She tossed them onto the table without another glance. After several deep breaths, she finally calmed herself.

“Uncle Hu, please help me! This printing factory cannot be acquired by Sheng Lian. Once they take over, we’ll lose all say—even if they decide to turn it into a bakery!”

It wasn’t impossible. With Xiang Zuo’s ruthless methods, turning the factory into a bakery would be the least of it.

“Mo Mo, I know it’s been hard for you. Since that disaster last year, you’ve struggled to keep the factory afloat, honoring your late parents. No matter what, President Xiang has not treated the Zhang family badly. The acquisition terms are generous, and by market value, you’re not losing out. Nian Qing has kept a small share, so she’ll remain a director of sorts. Try to see the bright side…”

“Uncle Hu…you—you don’t understand…” Mo Mo Zhang’s face crumpled like a bun. Her heart was full of bitterness, with nowhere to vent it. Xiang Zuo was clearly seeking to punish her—destroying her own company wasn’t enough; now he was targeting her family’s factory.

She stamped her foot and fell heavily back into her chair, racking her brain to no avail. In desperation, she began to gnaw her right index finger, nearly biting through the nail, but still at a loss.

Hu Yongnian gazed at the stubborn child, removed his reading glasses and rubbed his brow, resigned. “All year, I’ve regretted it. I should never have suggested you use Nian Qing’s identity to meet President Xiang. Even when the city took back the factory land and Dong Yin was to be shut down, you and Nian Qing could have gotten a hefty compensation! Why…”

His words were slow, and a hint of self-reproach flickered in his eyes. Seeing this, Mo Mo Zhang grew more anxious amid her sorrow. She hurried to sit beside him on the sofa, her plea almost breaking into a sob as she called “Uncle Hu.”

“Please don’t say that! If not for you, my father’s lifelong efforts would have been ruined in my hands.”

A year ago, the city suddenly notified them that the factory didn’t meet new planning requirements and insisted on reclaiming the land. Though Dong Yin was a venerable name, her father only knew printing, not business; the factory was always struggling. They already had bank loans, and losing the land meant they couldn’t afford to rent or buy elsewhere. At that critical moment, her father was killed in a car accident.

In the face of calamity, you realize you can count on no one. Mo Mo Zhang, just returned from abroad, didn’t even know how to arrange her parents’ funeral, and her sister’s medical bills were overwhelming. The only one who helped was Uncle Hu.

With the factory facing closure and Nian Qing in a coma, there were no solutions. Uncle Hu mentioned that the chairman of Sheng Lian had originally intended to meet Nian Qing for an arranged marriage. That domineering man, who had shown no interest in women for over twenty years, singled out Nian Qing from the sisters’ photographs.

Mo Mo Zhang instantly grasped the hidden signal—a powerful man, a savior.

Trembling, she met Xiang Zuo, fully expecting her deception to be uncovered, and gambled everything. Unexpectedly, the man renowned for his ruthless acumen noticed nothing amiss. After seeing her three times, he proposed marriage. With her own guilty motives, she dared not object to any of his demands.

A marriage built on deceit preserved her father’s legacy and provided her sister with superior treatment. Yet no one could foresee that this fatal, guilt-ridden union would slowly push both her and Nian Qing into the abyss.

Thinking of this, Mo Mo Zhang suddenly stood. No matter what, she could not let her father’s lifelong work pay for her own mistakes!