Chapter 09
"Isn't the new three-year plan a bit too ambitious given Sheng'an's current condition?" The same middle-aged man who first spoke let out a scoff. "Young people these days don't know what it means to be grounded. Why should we believe in this plan?"
"President Feng, after hearing the report and considering Sheng'an's current state, I must admit I'm worried as well," said another man with a refined demeanor and a Hong Kong accent. His tone, however, was far from polite. "Of course, I believe you have confidence, but I would prefer a more pragmatic approach."
"The departure of our fixed partners has already affected Sheng'an's reputation. Other partners will use that to determine whether to work with us or not. I really don't know where your confidence comes from," added a slightly plump woman adorned with jade jewelry. Her crimson lips moved sharply. "The profit-sharing ratio was agreed upon beforehand, so I have no objection there. But if company profits drop by 30%, then this 12% share sounds like a joke."
"I believe in Ajin," Chu Mingyu spoke, his eyes on Feng Jin as he raised his hand to vote. "I agree."
"Pfft~" A young man seated at the far end chuckled. He pushed back his messy blond hair, revealing a dazzling red earring that clearly wasn't cheap. Glancing at Feng Jin at the head of the table, then sweeping his gaze across the shareholders, his smirk carried a roguish flair. "I thought shareholder meetings were dull and only old men attended. That's why the old man dragged me back from Australia for this snoozefest. Had I known Sheng'an's president was a beautiful young woman, he wouldn't have needed to chase me—I'd have flown back on my own."
Seemingly unaware of how inappropriate his attitude was, the young man crossed his legs. His cropped jeans revealed a pale calf and an inky tattoo around his ankle—mysterious and otherworldly.
Feng Jin looked toward him. Due to his seat being blocked by others, she hadn't gotten a good view of him earlier. She mentally recalled the list of shareholders and realized this was Zhao Laoye's grandson—Zhao Ruitian.
A Harvard MBA graduate, 24 years old, currently serving as Regional Operations Director in Southeast Asia.
Feng Jin had seen his photo before—neatly dressed, baby-faced, and delicate. His hair hadn't been dyed like straw back then. It was hard to imagine what he had gone through to end up looking like this. Though the company didn't have strict dress codes, his look was far too casual.
Zhao Ruitian stood and picked up his mic with one hand, adjusting the volume. "Though I'm not as familiar with the domestic market as the seasoned folks here, I did some research. Sheng'an may not be the industry leader, but it's far from low-tier. It has huge growth potential, thanks primarily to our president. I'm sure you've all seen the financial reports from two years ago—profits are up 25% year over year."
Despite his carefree attitude, Zhao Ruitian spoke with clarity and logic.
He strolled over to the three earlier speakers, leaned against the table, and tilted his head toward them with a playful grin. "So clearly, some of our shareholders are in the habit of lying through their teeth. That's no good. The president works her tail off, battling demons left and right. Show some respect!"
Realizing he was getting off track, Zhao Ruitian coughed lightly. "Ahem, back to the point. I looked into the companies that terminated their contracts with Sheng'an. Their corporate cultures, leadership, and operations show that their departure is actually a blessing. Stagnant, self-limiting companies have no future today. If Sheng'an had stuck to its old ways, it wouldn't be where it is now. That's a fact. So, ignorance is a virus—it spreads fast. If you don't even understand the current landscape and still talk nonsense, then your decades of life experience have been..."
He paused, swallowing the harsher words, and instead concluded, "...wasted."
The faces of the three initial speakers darkened considerably.
Everyone knew Zhao Ruitian's identity. The Zhao family had been in business for generations with their headquarters in New York. Zhao Laoye held shares in Sheng'an out of loyalty to Feng Jin's father. Since Feng Jin took over as president, Zhao Laoye had mostly stayed silent during shareholder meetings. This had allowed those three to make noise unchallenged. But this time, Zhao Laoye had sent his grandson, whose unorthodox temperament seemed oddly well-suited to the task.
At the head of the table, Feng Jin interlaced her fingers and rested her elbows on the table, her expression unreadable.
Those three were among Sheng'an's original founders. As long as they didn't directly harm the company, she could only respond with a cold face—nothing more. They had watched her rise step by step, yet once her father became ill, they turned against her. Though they couldn't stop her from leading the company, they took every chance at these meetings to cause friction. However, Feng Jin never confronted them head-on, always calm and polite, which left them feeling like their punches landed on cotton.
Before any argument could break out, Feng Jin interrupted and asked Jiang Suliu to share the cooperation plan with Concast Group.
Aside from the three troublemakers who turned pale and silent, the rest applauded in approval.
In the end, profit still held the most weight.
That was something Feng Jin had understood from day one in this world.
Empty declarations only wasted time.
As for the vote, out of thirteen shareholders, ten voted in favor, two abstained, and one opposed.
Thus, the meeting passed smoothly.
At the end, Feng Jin gave a brief, formal closing statement.
As the shareholders left the room, Chu Mingyu walked toward Feng Jin, but stopped to check his phone. Upon seeing the caller ID, he glanced at Feng Jin with hesitation, then turned and left.
Feng Jin began gathering her documents, acting as if she hadn't seen a thing. She handed the papers to Jiang Suliu and turned her gaze to the man standing before her.
"Hey~ President Feng~" Zhao Ruitian's lips curled mischievously. "After my stellar performance just now, aren't you going to treat me to a meal?"
Her expression softened slightly as she stood and extended her hand. "Thank your grandfather for me."
"Huh? Shouldn't you be thanking me?" he teased, but shook her hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, President Feng."
His movements were graceful and poised—quite different from his earlier demeanor.
"Likewise, Director Zhao," she replied politely. "Let's meet another time."
"Of course."
As the pleasantries ended, Zhao Ruitian turned to Jiang Suliu, who was copying meeting minutes to a USB drive. With a sly smile, he asked, "Is this your assistant, President Feng?"
Before Feng Jin could respond, Jiang Suliu stood and extended his hand. "Hello, Mr. Zhao."
"No need for such formality. Just call me Ruitian."
Jiang Suliu's lips tightened, and his grip intensified.
Zhao Ruitian showed no reaction, but his hand trembled slightly.
Feng Jin glanced at their clasped hands. They released immediately.
Zhao Ruitian laughed awkwardly. "I just felt this instant connection with Secretary Jiang—like we knew each other in a past life."
"Secretary Jiang does have a familiar face," Feng Jin replied. "I have something to attend to. Secretary Jiang, please see Mr. Zhao out."
"Yes, President."
After Feng Jin left, Zhao Ruitian slapped Jiang Suliu's shoulder. "Senior, you weren't joking back then, huh? When I recognized you, I thought I was dreaming. Spill it—what are you really doing at Sheng'an?"
Jiang Suliu walked ahead, cold as ice. "I didn't expect to see you here either."
"Is this how Sheng'an treats guests?" Zhao Ruitian quipped. "That's not how President Feng told you to see me off."
Jiang Suliu stopped and looked back. He made a gesture. "This way, Mr. Zhao."
Zhao Ruitian shivered but didn't argue further.
Dragged back by his grandfather, full of resentment, Zhao Ruitian had been dozing off during the meeting. But when he looked up and saw a familiar face, he became instantly alert—leading to his earlier outburst.
At the elevator, Zhao Ruitian stepped in, but Jiang Suliu did not.
"Since someone's picking you up, I won't see you off."
With a dramatic eye roll, Zhao Ruitian glanced at the approaching bodyguards. His temple twitched. Just how little did the old man trust him to arrange all this?
As the elevator doors closed, Jiang Suliu finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He hadn't expected to see Zhao Ruitian at an event like this. They'd met in the UK—same university, same advisor. Jiang had occasionally taught classes for juniors, which was how he met Zhao. That twisted fate lasted five years. Though unruly and mischievous, Zhao Ruitian wasn't a fool. On the contrary, he had sharp business instincts.
Jiang hadn't hidden his identity when joining Sheng'an, but he hadn't revealed it either. Maybe, deep down, he didn't want her to know—not to think he had joined Sheng'an with an agenda.
His lips pressed into a thin line. If she did find out… what would she think?