At the start, I had to choose one of four options, and I immediately picked the Brahmin from the cou

Zheng Guodong sat in his office on the second floor of the building materials market, put his phone on vibrate, and placed it on the table.

He couldn't be bothered to look anymore. He picked up his enamel mug, took a sip of cold tea, and looked out the window at the bustling Jiangyang Avenue below.

Luxury cars with out-of-town license plates (Province A, Zhejiang C, Jiangsu E, Guangdong B) completely blocked the entrance to the building materials market. Security guard Lao Wu hadn't even had a sip of water since morning, and his voice was hoarse. He was straining his neck to direct a Mercedes to squeeze into a corner.

"Mr. Zheng!"

Xiao Zhou from the business department pushed open the office door, his forehead covered in a fine layer of sweat, and he was clutching a stack of business cards in his hand.

Three more groups of people arrived. Vice President Zhou from Henderson Land Development is waiting downstairs, saying he'd like to meet with you. There are also representatives from two developers in the provincial capital, one working on commercial complexes and the other on high-end residential properties; both want to invite you to dinner. Here are their business cards—”

"Just put it there."

Zheng Guodong pointed to the pile of business cards stacked like a small mountain on the corner of the table without even looking up. Xiao Zhou added a new layer of business cards on top, and the pile of cards wobbled a couple of times before finally collapsing under the weight and scattering all over the table.

Looking at the pile of colorful business cards, Zheng Guodong felt uneasy.

Hengji, provincial capital tycoons, Wenzhou real estate speculators—a month ago, these people wouldn't have even given him a second glance. Zheng Guodong had spent most of his life in the building materials business in Jiangyang County, and in their eyes, he was just a country bumpkin selling steel bars and cement.

Now, people in suits are lining up to squeeze into his office, practically stuffing their business cards into his pockets.

When Wang Jianhui fell, these people were also shocked, but the shock was fear—fear that the young master of the Li family would cut their necks with his knife.

At the time, they called frantically to sound me out, their tone full of caution, asking, "Mr. Zheng, what's your relationship with that young master of the Li family like?" The subtext was, "Could you put in a good word for me with Li Xiao so he won't investigate me?"

At that time, the respect was more out of fear.

Things are different now. Once the official document was issued, their attitude shifted from fear to hunger.

Instead of inquiring about Li Xiao's background, they began frantically stuffing cooperation proposals and letters of intent into Zheng Guodong's hands. Some shameless individuals even stood at the entrance of the building materials market with gifts, waiting for most of the day.

The way they looked at Zheng Guodong had changed—before, they looked at him as a nouveau riche; later, they looked at him as someone on the periphery of the Li family; now, they looked at him as someone on a narrow bridge that could lead to Lansheng.

His gaze fell on the pile of scattered business cards.

Vice President Zhou of Hengji Real Estate, Executive Director of Tai'an Real Estate in the provincial capital, and General Manager of Wenzhou Hongda Investment Company—just a month ago, any one of these titles would have made him stand up to offer a toast at a dinner party. Now, they're the ones handing him their business cards, each word more polite than the last, each offer more generous than the last.

He suddenly realized that this was probably what Li Xiao had said back then—"Things that can be settled with money aren't really problems; what's truly hard to settle is people's hearts. What Fatty Zhou is taking away isn't your profits, but the opportunity for others to spit in our bowls."

Now he no longer has to worry about people spitting in his bowl; those who used to ignore him are now lining up to put food in his bowl. It's not because Zheng Guodong is particularly capable, but because his son followed the right person.

Zheng Guodong put the enamel mug back on the table, got up and walked to the window.

The Mercedes downstairs was finally squeezed into the corner under Lao Wu's direction. The car door opened, and a middle-aged man wearing a navy blue polo shirt got out. The watch on his wrist reflected the midday sun.

Zheng Guodong recognized him—Zhou, the deputy general manager of Hengji in the provincial capital. He had met him once last year at a building materials fair in the city. At that time, Zheng Guodong offered him a cigarette, which Zhou accepted, but he tucked it behind his ear and never lit it. He only talked to the big developers in the city and didn't even give him a second glance.

Now, this Deputy General Manager Zhou is standing in the parking lot of his building materials market, looking up at the second floor with an expression on his face that Zheng Guodong has never seen before.

Zheng Guodong turned his gaze away from the window, picked up the enamel mug on the table, and took another sip of herbal tea. The herbal tea was a recipe his wife had asked someone to bring him last month. She said that running around on construction sites in the summer could easily cause internal heat, so she boiled honeysuckle, prunella vulgaris, and bamboo leaves together. It was a bit bitter, but it worked.

He'd been drinking tea for most of his life, never caring about whether it was before the Qingming Festival or before the Qingming Festival; he only recognized this enamel mug. He bought the mug the year he got married; several pieces of the enamel were chipped off, revealing rings of rust-colored enamel on the bottom, but he never replaced it.

His wife suggested getting a new one, but he said no, this jar is the best for quenching his thirst.

The door opened again, and this time Zheng Hao came in.

He had clearly just returned from the construction site; his hard hat was still on his head, the brim pulled low, and beads of sweat were running down his neck, staining the collar of his T-shirt with a dark sweat stain.

"Dad, a reporter came to the construction site just now. He said he was from the provincial capital's economic newspaper and wanted to interview the person in charge of Lansheng. I said the person in charge wasn't here, but he said he could interview General Manager Zheng instead. So I took him to the gatekeeper for a cup of tea. Damn, reporters from the provincial capital are really good at talking. He found out from the gatekeeper how many people are on our construction site and how many truckloads of steel structure come in every day before he left."

Zheng Guodong frowned: "You're not talking nonsense, are you?"

"What could I possibly say? I told him I was just a gofer and didn't know anything. He still tried to trick me into revealing information, asking if Lansheng was planning to set up an incubation platform in the High-tech Zone. I said, 'Incubate what? We've only ever hatched chicks.' Then he stopped asking."

Zheng Guodong was silent for a while, then nodded. He noticed that he had been nodding more often than before.

He used to whip that kid a lot with a belt.

Now, things are much better. He squats on the construction site under the sun, eats boxed lunches with the workers, and pretends to be stupid when reporters from the provincial capital try to get information out of him. He wouldn't have dared to imagine this kind of composure two months ago.

Moreover, he had heard about the auction that Li Xiao was about to hold, which was worth 100 million. He didn't know if he could earn that much in his lifetime, while his silly son hadn't done anything and had just gotten 15% for nothing. Who could he complain to?

Moreover, that 100 million was just the initial offer; nobody knows how much it will eventually rise to.

Zheng Guodong glanced at the pile of scattered business cards on the table, then at the sun-tanned, ruddy face in front of him, and thought to himself that his silly son was really lucky.