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

Looking at his son's safety helmet, which was covered in mud, Zheng Guodong felt a mix of emotions, a mixture of joy and感慨 (gǎnkǎi, mixed feelings).

This kid was never cut out for studying. He would even misspell his name on exam papers. When he was a kid, I tried everything: whipping him with a belt, threatening him with pocket money. But his grades remained firmly in the bottom three of the class, without wavering.

He thought to himself, "Whatever, like begets like." He, Zheng Guodong, hadn't received much formal education himself, so he figured his son would follow his example. He'd accept it. He planned to gradually pass on the family fortune he'd accumulated over the years to the boy when he was a few years older.

Who would have thought this kid was so lucky? Not just lucky, but incredibly lucky. He didn't even score 300 on the college entrance exam, yet he got into Huaqing Business School with Li Xiao. What sports talent student, what targeted training program? He wanted to laugh when he heard that—didn't he know his own son's limitations?

In the junior high school sports meet, only five people signed up for the shot put, four of whom were just there to make up the numbers. He came in second, and that result was packaged as an outstanding achievement in the provincial youth track and field competition. Principal Han's mouth really has the ability to make the impossible seem real. Even more outrageous is Lansheng's 15% dry share.

One hundred million is just the starting bid. Nobody knows how much it will eventually fetch, but no matter how much it does, the 15% under his son's name will remain as secure as a rock.

Fifteen percent, even at the most conservative estimate of one hundred million, that's fifteen million. And that's the bare minimum. What if it were one hundred and fifty million? Or two hundred million?

Zheng Guodong had toiled away in Jiangyang County for most of his life, and his net worth was barely over 100 million yuan. Much of that was in real estate, uncollectible debts, and several slow-to-liquidate commercial properties and factories. If he were to suddenly come up with 20 million yuan in cash, he would be so worried he'd pull his hair out.

But what about his own foolish son?

But what about his own foolish son? He didn't even score 300 on the college entrance exam. After a year of school, he came back with only 15% of the shares in his pocket.

He doesn't have to do anything or care about anything. He can just sit there and wait for land prices to skyrocket, and his net worth will almost match what his father has accumulated over most of his life.

Looking at his heartless, silly son, Zheng Guodong was momentarily at a loss for whether to cry or laugh.

Zheng Hao gulped down most of the vat of herbal tea, wiped his mouth haphazardly with the back of his hand, and felt uneasy under his father's complicated gaze.

"Dad, why are you staring at me like that? I didn't cause any trouble today!"

Zheng Guodong was brought back to his senses by his son's shout. Instead of cursing as usual, he leaned back in his leather chair, took out a special-supply Yellow Crane Tower cigarette from the table, and lit it.

A bluish-white smoke drifted between the father and son. Zheng Guodong narrowed his eyes, staring at Zheng Hao's face, which still held a hint of naivety. "Haozi, tell your dad the truth. When Brother Xiao gave you that 15% stake, did he ask for any conditions?"

"Make demands? No."

Zheng Hao scratched his head, pulled over a chair and sat down casually, stretching out his long legs and shaking them without a care in the world.

"Brother Xiao just handed me a document to sign, saying that I would have a share in this land in the High-tech Zone. I didn't look at it carefully; I just signed it because he told me to. Anyway, Brother Xiao wouldn't cheat me."

"Moreover, I was quite shocked when Brother Xiao gave me these 15% shares. I felt like I hadn't put in any money, and I just ran errands to get these 15% shares. He said that I would be in charge of all the hard work on the construction site. I thought it made sense. Anyway, I've been following Brother Xiao since I was a kid. I do whatever he tells me to do, so I closed my eyes and pressed my fingerprint."

Zheng Guodong's hand holding the cigarette jerked violently, and a piece of scalding hot ash hit the back of his hand, burning a red mark. He seemed not to feel the pain, but just stared at his silly son in front of him, who was shaking his leg and looking completely indifferent, and gasped.

Having spent most of his life in the business world, Zheng Guodong has witnessed countless instances of brothers fighting tooth and nail, even stabbing each other in the back, over a mere percentage point of profit.

But what about Li Xiao? He handed over shares worth tens of millions or even hundreds of millions of yuan to a lackey without batting an eye, while his own foolish son didn't even read the terms of the contract or what rights and responsibilities he held before signing it with his eyes closed.

Fools are often blessed with good fortune!

He didn't believe this before, but now he does.

Zheng Guodong spent most of his life struggling in Jiangyang County, starting from carrying cement on construction sites. He built his fortune step by step, losing money, suffering losses, being cheated, and cheating others, before finally accumulating his current wealth. Every penny was soaked in sweat, and every brick was covered in dust.

He knew the ways of the world all too well; in business, there were no free shares, and debts of gratitude were harder to repay than high-interest loans.

But the 15 percent that Li Xiao gave to his son was essentially a free gift.

"Why don't I have such good friends?"

Zheng Guodong suddenly let out a self-deprecating sigh.

He has made a wide circle of friends throughout his life—business owners in the building materials market who are like brothers to him, old customers who drink and chat at the dinner table, and suppliers who come to his door with gifts during holidays. If you really count them, there are no less than a thousand names in his contact list.

But out of these thousand people, who would give him a share of the profits without a second thought when his son couldn't even get into university?

Who would offer a word of reassurance to someone who's already overwhelmed with problems? Forget about giving a gift, nobody would even consider it. In the business world, every transaction has a price tag.

Sending you a pack of cigarettes means you have to sign a note; treating you to a meal means you have to hold onto payment. There are no free shares, no trust that comes without expecting anything in return.

Zheng Guodong flicked his cigarette ash, shook his head with a wry smile.

He suddenly remembered his youth. In his early twenties, he followed the experienced workers on the construction site, learning to read blueprints. He would get up before dawn to mix mortar, and the calluses on his hands were so thick that even a nail couldn't pierce them.

Back then, he also had a group of brothers who would squat at the entrance of the workers' shed to eat boxed lunches and sleep on the cement ground in winter.

And then what happened? Later, he gradually built up his business, bought his first pickup truck, and took on his first project. Then, one by one, those people left.

Some went back to their hometowns to farm, some went to work in the south and never heard from again, and some fell out with him over a final payment of tens of thousands of yuan, and now they don't even exchange group text messages during holidays. It's not that anyone wronged anyone; it's just that their paths diverged, and people naturally drifted apart.

But now, looking at his son and Li Xiao, he suddenly felt that perhaps there really was a kind of affection in this world that Zheng Guodong had never encountered in his life.

It's not because of shared interests or blood ties that we're bound together; it's simply because you're my brother, and I'm giving you a hand. There's no need to settle accounts, no need for IOUs, and no need for you to be grateful.