Chapter Eleven: The Card of Familial Bonds

Lin Chu was taken aback by Li Fengyu’s words; it was the first time he had seen this side of him. Yet, Lin Chu understood that Li Fengyu was trying to help him, so he refrained from saying much and simply asked, “So, what do you plan to do?”

Li Fengyu regarded Lin Chu as a true friend but was also motivated by his own ambitions, which drove him to assist with utmost determination. Coldly, he said, “I have prepared two strategies for you: one optimal and one backup. Remember, we must begin with courtesy before resorting to force.”

After finishing his words, Li Fengyu let out a bitter laugh. If there had been a turning point for him, it was surely now. Power, money, and desire have the power to transform a man. They can propel someone forward, inspiring ambition and hard work in pursuit of a better life. Yet, they can also destroy a person utterly. But that was a story for another time. At this moment, Li Fengyu was merely a low-ranking official without any real influence—if anything, he was just Lin Chu’s little strategist and trusted confidant.

Three days later, everything was ready. Li Fengyu and Lin Chu began to put their plan into motion. First, Li Fengyu instructed Lin Chu to visit the man’s residence with gifts, hoping to appeal to reason and touch his emotions in hopes of changing his mind. If that failed, they would have to resort to less honorable means.

Carrying the gifts, Lin Chu arrived at the man’s mansion. Upon entering, he remarked, “Mr. Zhang, your calligraphy is truly exquisite.”

Lin Chu wasted no time finding a way to break the ice, using calligraphy as a conversational entry point. Mr. Zhang slowly rose from the sofa and approached Lin Chu. “This was a gift from someone else,” he said. “But from what you say, it seems you have a unique appreciation for calligraphy, Mr. Shao.”

Unfazed, Lin Chu, a Stanford graduate, calmly replied, “Calligraphy is one of our country’s ten great cultural treasures.”

He then pretended to examine the piece and said, “Ah, this is in the Yan style.”

Mr. Zhang gestured for him to continue, eager to see if Lin Chu would embarrass himself.

Lin Chu elaborated, “The Yan style was created by the Tang Dynasty calligrapher Yan Zhenqing, often mentioned alongside Liu Gongquan as the ‘Yan-Liu’ style. It’s said to embody ‘Yan’s sinew and Liu’s bone.’ The Yan style refers specifically to Yan Zhenqing’s regular script, which features a square, dense structure with light horizontal strokes and heavy vertical ones. The strokes are strong, rounded, and powerful, conveying a solemn and majestic spirit. Yan Zhenqing himself was once the Crown Prince’s tutor. Whoever gifted you this painting certainly has good taste.”

Seeing that he could not trip Lin Chu up, Mr. Zhang finally got to the point. “What brings you here today? Surely not to gather funds to manipulate the iron ore market? Haven’t the other shareholders already agreed?”

Inwardly, Lin Chu cursed, “This old fox is feigning ignorance. You hold the largest share, and if you don’t consent, no matter if the proposal passes, it’ll be difficult to proceed with many things.”

With a slight smile, Lin Chu said, “You are a company founder and a close friend of my father’s. I often hear my father recount stories of your exploits in the Hong Kong market last century.”

Mr. Zhang’s eyes lifted slightly as memories surfaced. This appeal to sentiment was working. Lin Chu pressed his advantage, “Mr. Zhang, I have always held you in the highest regard since childhood. Although we sometimes differ on details, outside of work, I consider you a role model. My father often tells me to learn from you. You have no heirs. In the future, I will care for you in your old age.”

As he spoke from the heart, tears glistened in Lin Chu’s eyes, as if he was about to fall to his knees. Even a stone would soften in such a moment; a man surely could not resist. At last, Mr. Zhang relented.

In truth, this was all Li Fengyu’s scheme. He had heard that Mr. Zhang’s wife was infertile, and at fifty years old, they had no children. This play on familial affection was sure to succeed.