20. Do American study abroad programs teach these things too?

6 p.m. the next day.

“Jiang Lu, it’s been a pleasure working with you!”

“Mr. Chen, the pleasure is mine.”

Inside a restaurant, Chen Ze shook hands with the young man sitting across from him. After releasing his grip, he sat back down and said, “I’ll bring you over tomorrow morning. You all should rest well at the hotel first.”

The law is often upheld at a cost.

In 2024, the country enacted regulations allowing shareholders to bring lawyers directly for audits. But back in 2018, there was no clear rule—everything was still vague.

It was precisely this legal gray area that gave many companies opportunities to exploit loopholes. This is what people often call the gray zone—the most lucrative yet murky ground.

Of course, even in this ambiguous legal space, shareholders still have the right to audit.

According to corporate law, shareholders inherently possess the right to know the company’s financial status.

Though shareholders must apply first for an audit, and if the company refuses, the finance department won’t cooperate.

But you can enforce it!

Once you’re certain there’s something wrong with the accounts—when you’re practically starving—no one cares if pandas are a national treasure or not.

Lawyer teams don’t come cheap, and Jiang Qin before him was even more expensive—both a lawyer and a certified accountant and tax advisor. But it didn’t matter; Dad would reimburse the expenses.

Besides, they’d also take the opportunity to redesign the equity structure and resolve Hongye Construction’s debt crisis.

Damn it, going bankrupt at the slightest problem, with zero risk insulation—was Dad really just a reckless guy from the countryside?

With the lawyer arrangements settled, Chen Ze left the restaurant. It was already 8 p.m., the sky dark and heavy.

Four days had passed since his rebirth.

All plans were nearly complete.

He even, through Xu Liping’s recommendation, had connected with someone at the Public Security Bureau and planted the necessary groundwork.

He had considered stopping by the bank but decided against it—no need to waste breath or draw unnecessary attention.

Banks have their interests, governments have theirs. Chen Ze was somewhat melancholic about it all.

If only Gong Yaowu hadn’t embezzled so much money back then, and if his family had been braver, they could have turned the tide.

Because to banks, they don’t care who the developer is; what matters is who bears the risk.

Gong Yaowu arrested? On the run?

As long as he was prevented from taking out a second mortgage or absconding with the public’s down payments, their family, as the major shareholder, could mortgage Banghe and the mansion to secure loans and revive the project.

The night deepened.

Chen Ze got into a ride-hailing car and headed straight to the Mingchu Restaurant in Nankai, following the address his cousin had given.

A BYD was parked under the restaurant’s portico. He sized up the luxurious, upscale venue and checked in at the front desk.

They charged 11,300 yuan for the private room; he sent 12,000 yuan and stayed put. Then, carrying two bottles of Feitian Maotai left by Liu Shijie, a waiter led him to the third floor.

Pushing open the tall double doors, laughter spilled out—clearly a lively gathering.

The restaurant was relatively new, modern and elegantly understated with strong business vibes. It seemed to serve Taizhou and Cantonese cuisine.

Directly ahead was the reception area; turning left, he saw a large round table seating about twenty people.

Noticing his arrival, Chen Ze handed the Maotai to the waiter and smiled apologetically at the group.

“Sorry, uncles, I thought my friend was just here visiting Tianjin. Didn’t expect it to be a reunion with me, so I’m late with such an important matter.”

“You’re not late, no worries.”

A man seated beside the host spoke. He was somewhat stout but had a kindly gaze.

Chen Ze took the seat next to Liu Shijie, roughly the fourth seat, but before sitting down he said,

“Arriving late behind all of you elders is a failure on my part; I must punish myself with three drinks.”

Including Chen Ze, there were 17 people, most of whom he recognized, except for a few he couldn’t place.

The gathering was organized by Chen Tianhong. To his left sat Guo Qidong, owner of Liding Construction, an old friend whose son was also close friends with Chen Ze.

On Chen Tianhong’s right was Wang Hongxin from Xinhe Investment, a real estate investor—essentially a key client. He was tactful and wouldn’t harm you, but you wouldn’t gain much favor from him either.

Others present included Zhao Dongqing and Jiang Zhiming, longtime business partners and friends of Chen’s father.

Perhaps because the Chen family’s bankruptcy came too quickly, these people—except for Guo Qidong—offered little help to Chen Tianhong but didn’t turn their backs either.

Besides the guests, the rest were senior executives from Hongye Construction Group.

This dinner was a heads-up meeting to discuss matters concerning Banghe Real Estate.

Apart from company leaders, these guests were shareholders who had invested in Banghe Mansion. Together with the family’s funds, they had raised 110 million yuan.

In other words, Dad had essentially duped these people—like dragging friends into a pyramid scheme. Of course, before the collapse, no one knew it was a scam.

Chen Ze had altered history. Since his involvement, Chen Tianhong had grown wary.

In the previous lifetime, this dinner probably never happened, or if it did, he wouldn’t have been invited.

As the waiter poured him a drink, Chen Tianhong glanced at his son with surprise and proceeded to introduce Chen Ze to those unfamiliar to him.

Soon, Chen Ze took the small cup, raised the decanter, and with a smile said,

“There’s an old saying: one cup is gold, two cups are silver. To make amends for being late, I’ll treat all the uncles here to a treasure pot.”

He poured the small cup’s wine into the decanter and gestured toward everyone.

“My father told me it’s not easy to gather you all here despite your busy schedules. I’m late and owe you an apology. Words mean less than genuine feelings—thank you all for your care and understanding.”

After downing 150 ml in two gulps, the room burst into lively smiles.

“Mr. Chen, truly like father, like son—how did you raise such a remarkable child?”

Zhao Dongqing’s words lightened the mood, though in business dinners, flattery and falsehoods were commonplace.

“I didn’t teach him, nor do I know where he learned it. But I’m quite pleased he can drink and dares to drink.”

Chen Tianhong looked surprised. In his memory, his son disliked such gatherings and would leave as soon as someone called him, or if he stayed to eat, only as a listener.

Could it be that studying in America changed him so much?

“Good!”

“Eat up. You’ve grown even more handsome after all these years.”

Chen Ze poured tea, turning what began as a dull start into a crescendo with his lively antics.

There’s a principle when drinking with elder leaders: sit up straight, speak sweetly, but don’t appear sycophantic. Say all the flattering things you can, but keep your eyes as if they regard them as equals or even subordinates.

Of course, some leaders prefer flatterers, but most like someone unique who both praises and gets things done.

Chen Ze settled in. Guo Qidong sighed quietly and asked with concern,

“You already had a drink before coming, right?”

Holding his large tea cup, Chen Ze blew on it and replied in a somewhat loud voice,

“I barely dared to drink, knowing all you uncles can hold your liquor. I had to save some to accompany you properly.”

True to his word, after the waiter refilled the wine, he took a big sip of tea, stood up, and carrying the decanter, began to toast each person starting with Guo Qidong.

He had two choices for this dinner: either listen silently or engage well with everyone.

Because...

“Xiao Ze, what have you been up to lately?”

Guo Qidong asked out of personal interest. Chen Ze had been waiting for this topic. Without rushing to answer, he first toasted those nearby, then spoke plainly:

“Actually, I want to ask for your advice. I’m thinking of starting my own small business, but my dad doesn’t agree.”

Wine wasn’t offered in vain.

Smiles were not given freely.

Yesterday, Chen Tianhong said that if Chen Ze could convince half the people at the dinner, he would allow the startup.

This time, taking advantage of the wine, Chen Ze not only secured agreement for his entrepreneurial plans but also borrowed three million two hundred thousand yuan.

He also secured commitments from seven uncles to invest two million yuan each after dividends from Banghe Mansion.

Half-drunk, Chen Tianhong looked around the room, observing this son so different from his memory.

Is this how studying in America changes a person?