My stepmother forced me to donate bone marrow, so I retaliated by slapping my scumbag father in the

Many passersby noticed the change in their expressions upon hearing this.

Using luxury cars to express affection is one thing.

Sending a birthday gift while the patient is ill is another matter entirely.

Someone whispered, "If he's really that sick, it seems kind of pitiful."

"Even in her current state, she still remembers her birthday."

"Even if President Yu is cold, he can't just leave without making any gesture, can he?"

"It's worth going to the hospital for a checkup."

Hearing these comments, Zhang He was secretly pleased; this was exactly the kind of public pressure he wanted.

He looked up, his eyes reddening slightly, and said, "Mr. Yu, I dare not force you to accept this car today."

"I only have one request for you on behalf of Young Master Cong: could you please go to the hospital to see him?"

"Even if it's just for five minutes, as long as you show up, Young Master Cong will definitely be very happy."

Yu Binglan's assistant behind her looked rather displeased; the situation was far too awkward for them.

In front of so many people and with so many cameras, a direct refusal could easily be taken out of context.

Yu Binglan remained calm. She looked at Zhang He and said in a flat voice, "I am very sorry about Shen Cong's illness."

Zhang He's eyes lit up, thinking there was hope.

The next second, Yu Binglan continued, "But I have no personal relationship with him, nor do I have any obligation to visit him."

Zhang He almost lost control of his expression.

The onlookers were stunned; those words were too cold and too direct.

But when Yu Binglan said it, there was not a single word of hesitation.

She is clearly drawing a line.

Zhang He gritted his teeth, thinking of the Zhang family's project opportunities, and had no choice but to grit his teeth and continue.

"Mr. Yu, I know you're usually busy, and I know you don't like being disturbed."

"But Cong Shao really needs encouragement right now. He's lying in his hospital bed, and the person he most wants to see is you."

"So many people have seen this gift, which is enough to prove his sincerity."

"Even if you don't put the car away, it would be good to take a look."

Yu Binglan's expression grew even colder: "Are you using the onlookers to pressure me?"

Zhang He's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly waved his hand: "President Yu, you've misunderstood. That's absolutely not what I meant."

But some people around had already figured it out.

"It seems a bit like moral blackmail."

"They've already said there's no personal relationship between them, yet they still sent someone to the hospital."

"So what if they give you a car if you have the money? If you don't like it, you just don't like it."

"But is Shen Cong really that sick?"

Sweat beaded on Zhang He's forehead. He hadn't expected that Yu Binglan's words would pull the situation back on track.

But he cannot back down.

The project cooperation opportunities promised by Shen Cong were enough for him to grit his teeth and finish this charade.

Zhang He took a deep breath and softened his voice a bit: "President Yu, I'm begging you, Young Master Cong is really pitiful right now."

"He has been calling your name since yesterday, saying that today is your birthday and he can't forget."

"He's still in the hospital and has difficulty even getting out of bed, yet he's still thinking about delivering this car to you."

"He just wants to see you."

The crowd quieted down again.

Some people looked at Yu Binglan with curiosity in their eyes, while others zoomed in with their phones.

Yu Binglan stood at the entrance of Xingchen Group, her expression aloof, with the towering commercial building behind her.

She didn't look at the Ferrari, but only at Zhang He: "Are you finished?"

Zhang He was taken aback: "President Yu..."

Yu Binglan said calmly, "Now that you've finished speaking, take your things away."

Zhang He's face finally darkened. He hadn't expected that even after he had said all that, Yu Binglan would remain unmoved.

Just as he was about to speak again, Shen Ze, who was outside the crowd, had already turned his gaze away and was preparing to leave.

Whether it's a luxury car as a declaration of love or moral blackmail, it has nothing to do with him.

But the next second, Zhang He gritted his teeth and said, "President Yu, Shen Cong really just wants to see you."

Shen Ze, who was originally planning to leave, stopped in his tracks after hearing Shen Cong's name.

Shen Ze stopped in his tracks when he heard Shen Cong's name.

Zhang He continued to press forward.

He stood beside the giant crystal gift box and deliberately raised his voice: "President Yu, Young Master Cong is really having a tough time these days."

"Even though he was so ill, he still remembered your birthday."

"It's not about the money, it's about the sentiment. Even if you don't accept it, wouldn't it be nice to visit him in the hospital?"

All the cameras around were pointed at Yu Binglan.

Some people whispered among themselves, "Now that things have come to this, wouldn't it be too cold to not go?"

"The person is sick, and you still give them an eight-million-dollar luxury car. You should at least give them some face."

"It's normal for someone of President Yu's status not to like it, right? She can't just go and see a car just because someone gives it to her."

Yu Binglan stood at the entrance of Xingchen Group, her face expressionless.

She glanced at the pink Ferrari, then looked at Zhang He: "I've already said, I won't accept the gift, and I won't see you either."

Zhang He's face stiffened: "President Yu..."

Yu Binglan interrupted directly: "Also, tell Shen Cong not to bother me in this way again."

Her voice wasn't loud, but it silenced Zhang He completely.

"Remove it."

Yu Binglan said to her assistant, "If the situation continues to disrupt the order at the company entrance within ten minutes, contact the property management and legal department."

The assistant nodded immediately: "Understood, Mr. Yu."

The crowd quieted down considerably in an instant.

The person who just thought it was romantic has now come to realize how romantic it is.

An eight-million-dollar luxury car is indeed outrageous, but who is Yu Binglan?

The president of Xingchen Group, a woman with a net worth of tens of billions, is a prominent figure in the entire Shanghai business community.

Does she need a Ferrari?

Moreover, Shen Cong was clearly putting her in the public eye, trying to force her to back down through public scrutiny and media attention.

Zhang He was sweating profusely, extremely anxious.

Shen Cong's task for him was to persuade Yu Binglan to go to the hospital.

Now, forget about going to the hospital; even our cars are being removed.

He wanted to say something more, but Yu Binglan had already turned around and was about to leave through the crowd.

But just as she lifted her foot, her gaze suddenly stopped.

On the outside of the crowd, a young man stood quietly.

He wore a black coat, stood tall and straight, and had a calm expression, completely different from the onlookers.

Yu Binglan looked at that face, and her cold expression gradually changed.

The next second, she suddenly strode out of the crowd.

The assistant and executives were stunned, Zhang He was stunned, and the onlookers subconsciously made way for them.

Yu Binglan, who had been as cold as ice even when facing an eight-million-dollar Ferrari, now had obvious surprise in her eyes, and even her voice softened.

"Brother Shen Ze?"

The sound of that word struck the entire audience like a thunderbolt.

Shen Ze was also taken aback. He looked at Yu Binglan, who was walking quickly towards him, and raised an eyebrow slightly: "President Yu, do we know each other?"

Upon hearing these words, Yu Binglan felt a lump in her throat.

She stared at Shen Ze, as if afraid she might have mistaken him for someone else, and looked at him intently for a few more seconds before softly asking, "You really don't remember me?"

"I am Xiaobing."

"Xiao Bing?" Shen Ze's gaze paused.

The name seemed to have been unearthed from a very distant memory.

In the back alley of Anping Lane, a short-haired boy wearing an ill-fitting boy's jacket is always being bullied by several older children.

Every time her schoolbag was snatched, she stubbornly refused to cry.