Chapter 141 — Old Buffon's Origins

"But before that, you'd better be a little careful. I don't want to become a widow," Sun Jie said, changing tack and speaking seriously.

"The Ouyang family—I still don't have them in my eyes," Yang Xu said indifferently. "If they dare come, I guarantee they won't be going back."

"Don't be too arrogant. I hear the Ouyang family backs an assassin organization," Sun Jie said. "If they send assassins to kill you, your kung fu won't amount to anything in their eyes."

"All right, I'll be careful," Yang Lanxu said. That's because you haven't seen my true level. But he also knew saying anything now was useless—the more he said, the more Sun Jie would think he was bragging. So he simply nodded humbly.

"All right. If there's any trouble, give me a call," Sun Jie said.

Yang Ce still wasn't sure what Sun Jie really felt, but the concern she had shown him just now was enough to leave him content.

Back in Songjiang, he dropped Sun Jie off at her company, then drove on toward home.

Sun Jie cradled her head in her arms and lay quietly across her desk, her mind a hopeless tangle. For the first time in all these years, she felt utterly lost. She had thought she would never fall for a man in this lifetime—and then Yang Ce had come crashing into her life.

To be continued

662. The Eldest Uncle Comes Calling

Did she love him? Sun Jie could not say. The feeling was strange, impossible to put into words. Deep down, she did not want to start another romance. Ever since what had happened last time, she had grown indifferent to matters of the heart between men and women—yet now that it lay right before her, she found herself at a loss as to which way to turn.

She had assumed that after the way Yang Ce had treated her so roughly yesterday, she would hate him, despise him. But when morning came, she found no particular hatred in her heart. She was a little annoyed, true—but what annoyed her was that she had been in the middle of something important and he had cut her off.

Never mind. Let things take their course. Though she could not understand why her father had suddenly taken such a different view of Yang Ce—could it really be that he admired the ruthlessness Yang Ce had shown last night?

Sun Jie shook her head. She had little to do with underworld affairs and had no idea what sort of person her father would admire, so she simply assumed it must have been Yang Ce's conduct the night before that had won his favor.

For now, she could only take things one step at a time. Some things that ought to end had to end. Though Sun Jie was loath to admit it, she had truly discovered—just as Yang Ce said—that being with a man felt different from being with a woman. Utterly, completely different.

She no longer felt much attachment to that old feeling. Picking up the phone, she dialed a number she had not called in a long while.

"Hello, it's me." Sun Jie hesitated, then said, "Do you have time lately? Let's meet up."

She could not tell what was said on the other end; when she heard it, she replied, "All right, then. Call me when you're free—I'm in Songjiang now."

She hung up and sighed. Why had she thought of ending this ambiguous relationship? Was it because of Yang Ce? Or was it simply that she had grown tired of it?

She shook her head to drive off these tangled emotions and opened the company files, setting to work on the documents that had piled up over the New Year.

When Yang Ce got home, he heard voices talking in the living room. He had assumed it was his father and Director Feng discussing factory matters—no, Manager Feng now. With the city's approval, the factory had been solely funded by Mingyang Group and reorganized as Songjiang Mingyang Heavy Industry Group, producing auto parts exclusively. Thanks to Old Buffon's stewardship, the production lines had been installed in no time—and not only could they turn out auto parts, but also mixers, cranes, and all manner of construction machinery. So the name they had first intended, Songjiang Mingyang Automobile Company, no longer quite fit, and they had simply renamed it the more general Heavy Industry Group. From what Old Buffon said, he even meant to ship in a few helicopter production lines from Europe.

Aircraft manufacturing, being such sensitive technology, was rarely set up in foreign countries—but Old Buffon's family happened to hold a controlling stake in an aviation company. Civilian airliners and fighter production lines obviously could not be exported lightly, so the only thing he could give Yang Ce was helicopter manufacturing, a lower-threshold technology. For that, Old Buffon felt somewhat ashamed. After all, Yang Ce was his master, and he ought to have held nothing back—but owing to EU restrictions, some things were beyond what Old Buffon could decide on his own.

Even so, Yang Ce was deeply grateful, and he resolved privately that, so long as it did not violate his principles, he would teach Old Buffon as much real skill as he could.

Chinese martial arts were, after all, profound and vast; whether Old Buffon could grasp them would depend on the man himself. But things like acupoint striking—Yang Ce could teach him a smattering, at least enough to show off in front of his friends.

"Dahai, just help your big brother out this once," came the voice from the living room—his eldest uncle, Yang Dashan.

"Brother, it's not that I won't help you—it's that I truly can't. The factory has only just started operating, and there are so many places that need money," Yang Cheyan said. "And besides, the gap in your funding is really a bit too large."

"Dahai, aren't you the group's chairman? Doesn't your word count? Just five million—with five million, my Moonlight City can hold on," Yang Dashan said anxiously.

"Brother, I've learned quite a bit about business from Old Feng lately, and I know the situation at your Moonlight City too. If you keep running it this way, it's only a matter of time before it goes under. That's not something any amount of money can save," Yang Cheyan sighed.

Yang Jiyan had caught the gist of it. So his uncle's Moonlight City really had fallen into crisis, just as he had predicted. Running it the way he did, this outcome was inevitable—but Yang Jiyan had not expected it to collapse within mere days.

What gratified Yang Ce, moreover, was that his father finally seemed to have come around. He had grown considerably more tactful in his dealings with people, no longer making promises lightly, and had begun to see matters in a more well-rounded way.

It was, he supposed, all thanks to Feng Wanjiang and Hou Lin over this past stretch—they had taught his stubborn, immovable father a thing or two about business.

"Dahai, you can't just watch your big brother go under," Yang Dashan said urgently. "This Yaoguang City was set up together with Brother Bao of the Bao Lin crowd. If it goes belly-up, Brother Bao will hack me to death—he's in the underworld, you know!"

"Ai." Yang Cheyan sighed helplessly. When it came down to it, this was still his own elder brother, and he could not bring himself to turn his back on him. So he said, "Brother, what exactly do you want me to do? The money is truly not mine to decide—and you know as well as I do that the group is now funded by Mingyang Entertainment Group. I'm only a chairman in name."

"Dahai, aren't you close with President Hou of Mingyang Entertainment? Couldn't you talk to him, ask him not to hold me responsible? Otherwise I really will be hacked to death," Yang Dashan said, having given up on borrowing money and turned his thoughts to saving his skin.