The Rise of a Special Forces Soldier Abandoned by a Wealthy Family

6:30 p.m., the innermost private room at the Jingtong District Guesthouse.

The room was simply decorated, even a bit old, but it was spotless.

A small round table, covered with a clean white tablecloth, is set with several exquisite local home-style dishes. There are no delicacies, but they exude a down-to-earth sincerity.

Hao Yuan and Wu Jun sat facing each other.

Choosing this location was a decision Hao Yuan made after careful consideration.

The guesthouse was a place within his official jurisdiction, bearing a strong public-official character. He made the implications of this meal very clear:

First, a clear line must be drawn. Tonight's meeting was a formal working meeting between Hao Yuan, the secretary of the Jingtong District Council, and Wu Jun, an entrepreneur or former official. It was a normal exchange between an "official" and a "businessman" within the framework of rules. There was no personal relationship involved, nor any talk of exchanging benefits.

Second, I'll give you face, but within a limited scope. I've given you face, Young Master Wu, and accepted your invitation.

But the location must be "open" under my control. I, Hao Yuan, will treat you to this meal as the host, thus preventing any possible future disputes.

Third, set up firewalls. When discussing matters at the guesthouse, any "suggestions" or "requests" that go beyond the norm will automatically be regarded as topics addressed to the "Jingtong District leadership team".

He has no personal authority to make the decision; it requires a collective decision at a meeting. He cleverly transforms personal pressure into collective responsibility.

Overall strategy: I know your intentions, and I'll give you face, but everything must proceed within the established rules. Want to overstep them? You'll need to convince the entire team first.

Wu Jun sat in the host and guest seats with an air of nonchalance, his posture relaxed, even somewhat languid.

He was wearing a well-tailored light gray casual suit, without a tie, and the top button of his shirt was casually undone.

A faint, enigmatic smile remained on his face as his gaze calmly swept across every corner of the room before finally settling on Hao Yuan's face.

Wu Jun was fully aware of Hao Yuan's choice of the guesthouse, and even found it somewhat...interesting.

It's like a billionaire watching an employee who has just received a hefty bonus carefully build a low wall with rules and regulations, trying to protect his "windfall."

That little bit of effort, in the face of such an absolute difference in altitude, seems both hard-won and... insignificant.

Wu Jun's logic is simple and direct, carrying an indifferent air of looking down on all living beings.

His conversation with Hao Yuan tonight, in his own words, was about giving employees a "platform" and "opportunities," which he considered an act of charity.

If an employee accepts, that's sensible; if they refuse or hesitate, the disobedient employee can simply be replaced.

The struggles, scheming, and even silent resistance of the world below could hardly stir any real waves in his heart.

"Young Master Wu, try the cooking of our guesthouse chef. I specially ordered this soup; it's made using a local slow-cooking recipe, and it's quite authentic."

Hao Yuan broke the silence, a perfectly appropriate, host-like smile on his face, and gestured with his hand.

Wu Jun's gaze fell on the bowl of milky white soup, but he didn't touch the spoon; instead, he moved it aside.

He picked up his chopsticks, slowly and deliberately picked up a fatty piece of braised pork, put it in his mouth, and chewed it carefully.

Then, he put down his chopsticks, picked up a napkin, and gently wiped the corner of his mouth.

Her movements were elegant, but the way she looked at Hao Yuan slowly gathered an invisible, heavy sense of oppression.

That was no longer a lazy smile, but a long-held, unquestionable authority.

"Secretary Hao," Wu Jun's voice was not loud, but each word had a metallic quality, "I, Wu Jun, never drink soup when I eat or talk business with people."

He paused, then pointed again at the remaining fatty meat on the plate with his chopsticks, his sharp gaze locking onto Hao Yuan:

"I only eat meat. And I only eat fatty meat."

"I have a very good appetite."

"Secretary Hao is a smart man; he should understand what I mean."

As soon as the words were spoken, the air in the private room seemed to be instantly sucked out, becoming thick and oppressive.

That naked, undisguised ambition and desire for gain, like a drawn blade, pressed against Hao Yuan's brow.

Hao Yuan felt a fine layer of cold sweat instantly seep out on his back.

He quietly clenched his hands under the table, his nails almost digging into his palms, using the pain to maintain his composure and clarity of mind.

He picked up his teacup, using the act of drinking water to conceal his momentary lapse in composure, then put the cup down, his smile unchanged, but his voice now carrying a deliberate air of ease and distance.

"Young Master Wu, you flatter us. Tonight, we're just having a get-together, and the most important thing is to eat and drink well. You're very busy, and it's rare for you to come to our small place. The conditions are simple, so please forgive us. My hospitality is sincere, and I just hope that Young Master Wu will enjoy the meal."

By avoiding the real issue and reiterating the nature of the gathering as a "host's welcome," the conversation was steered back into the safe realm of pleasantries.

Wu Jun's smile deepened, as if he had witnessed his prey's futile struggle.

He didn't respond to Hao Yuan's words, but slowly stood up, walked to the other side of the table, and picked up a beautifully packaged cream cake that he had specially asked the waiter to prepare when he entered.

He walked back to his seat and gently placed the cake on the table in front of Hao Yuan.

The plastic wrapping paper made a slight rustling sound, which was particularly jarring in the quiet private room.

"Secretary Hao," Wu Jun sat down again, placing his hands on the table, leaning slightly forward, his smile gentle but his eyes as cold as knives!

"As you just said, I'm incredibly busy, yet I still come here to eat. I'm sure you, Secretary Hao, are just as busy."

"I like things simple and I hate beating around the bush."

He extended his long, slender fingers and tapped the cake box:

"I'm here today for one thing: to recommend two people to Secretary Hao."

"One is Wu Chen from our Wu family. The other is He Ziming from the He family."

"These two young men are ambitious about their careers. Coincidentally, their positions just happen to fall within the system of your Jingtong District."

Wu Jun's tone was as calm as if he were stating a weather forecast...

Hao Yuan finally learned Wu Jun's purpose in coming...