34. Bank President Wu Has Lost None of His Former Vigor

"Shh."

Chen Ze gestured for Gong Bingyan, who was on the verge of crying out, to keep quiet. He wiped his fingers with a wet towel and picked up his chopsticks again.

As he fed a piece of diced beef to the beauty, the voices of the private room manager and someone else drifted from outside the folding screen.

"Mr. Chen is inside."
"Thank you."

Shortly after the deep male voice replied, a slightly stout, middle-aged man in a suit walked into the dining area. He happened to witness the moment Chen Ze was feeding his companion. After a brief moment of hesitation, he put on a smile and walked over.

"Mr. Chen, I have heard so much about you."

Halfway to the table, the man noticed there was no response, and his smile stiffened slightly. By the time he reached them, Chen Ze had picked up another dish. He took off his sunglasses and said, expressionless:

"You're here. Find a seat."

His tone was casual, making the middle-aged man feel uneasy, yet the man still wore a forced smile and sat down.

"I didn't expect Mr. Chen to be so young and accomplished. I brought you some tea as a token of my appreciation for your favor."

Chen Ze glanced at the slightly crumpled paper bag, chewed the food in his mouth, and said unhurriedly:

"President Wu, there’s no need to be so formal."

"Ah, yes."

The middle-aged man’s smile remained stiff as he placed the bag down. Just as he was about to probe for information, he froze.

"I called you here today mainly because I wanted to drink, but I was lacking a bank president to serve me."

As Chen Ze finished his sentence, not to mention the expression on the man's face, Gong Bingyan's eyes practically sparkled. The man’s attire and demeanor were indeed that of a bank president—even while smiling, he radiated an intimidating authority. But hearing what Chen Ze said? It was absolutely shocking. It turned out his status was truly this lofty.

"Did you not hear me? Pour the wine."

The man was stunned for a moment, followed by a slightly impatient reprimand from Chen Ze. This tepid rebuke caused the color to drain from the man's face. He suppressed his emotions and said:

"Mr. Chen, I am very grateful you chose our bank. If you have any business-related issues, I will certainly do my best to serve you, but matters outside of my professional capacity..."

"Very well."

Chen Ze turned his face and offered a faint smile. He wasn't afraid of showing his face to the man. Chewing slowly, he said in a low voice:

"If it were just those trivial matters, I wouldn't have bothered to have you come here, President Wu. What do you think?"

The man's pupils constricted. Looking at the harmless, even youthful face in front of him, he laughed:

"Mr. Chen makes a good point. Although I am a bit older, I would still like to be friends with you."

After their eyes met, the man conceded and picked up the bottle of Moutai that had been intentionally prepared for him. Gong Bingyan was completely lost in the fog, but the fact that a bank president was personally pouring the wine was undeniable.

"Mr. Chen, I toast to you."

The man was still trying to maintain his dignity, but Chen Ze didn't press the issue and downed the glass in one gulp. Once the glass was refilled, the man looked at Gong Bingyan and asked with a smile:

"And who might this be..."

"A slave."

Chen Ze’s answer was crisp. Both listeners were stunned; no matter how well-mannered the man was, he didn't know how to respond to that. Gong Bingyan pouted slightly, dissatisfied with the label—she would have preferred "girlfriend" or even "younger sister."

However, seeing that Chen Ze was mysterious and clearly possessed some real power, she decided to let it slide.

Nearby, the man paused for a moment, seemingly having gathered his thoughts. He looked at the calm and composed Chen Ze and asked:

"Since we are not outsiders, may I ask what instructions you have for me today, Mr. Chen?"

Chen Ze continued to eat, saying offhandedly:

"Pour the wine."

For a bank president, this was quite a humiliation, especially since he was two generations older than Chen Ze. But those who have done no wrong have nothing to fear; even the largest tiger has moments of submission. Clenching his teeth, the man suppressed his anger, poured the wine again, raised his glass, and said softly:

"Mr. Chen, business at the bank is busy, and you are clearly a person with a thousand things to attend to. I toast to you."

Chen Ze wasn't here to play word games. After breaking the man's ego twice, he finished his drink and said coldly:

"I wonder if President Wu is familiar with Bangyuan Real Estate?"

As soon as these words landed, not only was the man stunned, but even Gong Bingyan, who had been watching the show, furrowed her brows. But little Gong was shrewd; she instantly relaxed her expression, pretending to understand nothing, and listened even more intently.

"Bangyuan Real Estate is a leading property developer in this city; naturally, the industry is aware of them. May I ask what your connection is?"

Although Tianjin's future economy would lag, its comprehensive strength remained second only to the capital in the entire north. The future was uncertain, but as the second city of the north at this time, its urban construction was incredibly impressive. As a veteran enterprise that was also publicly listed, the bank naturally knew of them. Moreover, the land in the Banghe Residence area had increased in value nearly fivefold in three years, making the bank even more covetous.

The man probed slightly, but because Chen Ze was so young and lacked fame, he truly couldn't guess his identity. Could he be someone from Bangyuan Real Estate?

...

Gong Bingyan, the little slave, performed her role well. Chen Ze chewed on the shrimp meat she fed him and said casually:

"I said before, I have no interest in your private affairs. I have no malice regarding the items I mailed to you, nor do I have any backups. Dispose of them as you wish."

Chewing and slowly taking a sip of tea, Chen Ze picked his teeth with his tongue comfortably and added:

"If President Wu doesn't wish to be friends and is still burdened by the busy affairs of the bank, please, feel free to leave."

After finishing his Japanese lunch that afternoon, Chen Ze had transferred 5 million to Su Wei, asking his uncle to open an account at the bank. After depositing the 5 million, Su Wei had given the letter Chen Ze prepared to the man. In truth, there wasn't much in the letter—only two photos of the mistresses of this plain-looking middle-aged man. Chen Ze had written an address on the back of the photos.

Because interbank transfers take time, the man had only received the letter half an hour ago. He had no idea who was targeting him and, upon first seeing Chen Ze, thought he was just a messenger. But after just a few words, it was clear that Chen Ze was no ordinary child.

Having a mistress was a significant cost for a bank president, but not necessarily a career-ending one. As long as there were no serious repercussions or illicit "hidden rule" transactions, it would only result in a disciplinary action. The only real trouble would be explaining it to his wife at home. Therefore, the man had come with a smile, hoping to turn a big problem into a small one. He knew the person who summoned him wasn't there just to eat, but he hadn't expected Chen Ze to be so arrogant.

However, Chen Ze had found a soft spot. Since the man wasn't interested in the "mistress" matter, it meant he was hiding even greater secrets.

"As you wish."

The man took the initiative to pour the wine again and toasted him, looking lifeless and numb, neither crying nor causing a scene. Chen Ze accepted the glass and brought it to his mouth, smiling with satisfaction while saying leisurely:

"President Wu, the main reason I asked to meet you today is to become friends, and to save your life."

"Mr. Chen, please go on."

The man was slippery, asking no questions and saying little. Chen Ze, finding him quite intelligent, said directly:

"I heard that the chairman of Bangyuan Real Estate is planning to run away. Has President Wu heard of this?"

After Chen Ze finished, he didn't look at him, instead picking up his chopsticks. Gong Bingyan, however, froze, sensing that something was wrong.

"Where did you get this information, Mr. Chen?"

The man was also shocked, but his face only showed a hint of confusion and hesitation as he asked in a calm tone.

"Don't worry about where I got the information."

Chen Ze put down his chopsticks and gripped his wine glass. The man, being sensible, hurriedly filled it. Chewing, Chen Ze said indifferently:

"If this man surnamed Gong runs away and disappears, President Wu, think about it—what responsibility would you bear?"

In reality, if a developer runs away, banks are rarely implicated, as they are victims themselves. That was why the man was merely shocked and confused, bowing his head in thought until Chen Ze finished his drink.

"His escape would be a major matter for the public's livelihood. The city would certainly form a special task force to intervene. If they were to search his home and find some clues linking him to others..."

"Clatter."

Seeing the man terrified to the point of looking like a dog, Chen Ze put down his chopsticks in silence and slowly stood up. In his previous life, after Gong Yaowu ran away, the bank naturally bore no responsibility, but individuals within the bank were eventually brought down. The man before him was a classic case: he had accepted 32.85 million in bribes and was sentenced to 14 years in prison. During those three years, Gong Yaowu had used a special method to "gift" him 6 million in "tea."

His name was quite auspicious: Zong Liang. But his father hadn't considered the way their surname sounded.

"President Wu, are you afraid?"

Chen Ze held the bottle of Feitian Moutai, straightened the glass that Wu Zongliang had knocked over in his agitation, and personally filled it for him.

"Mr... Mr. Chen, what should I do?"

Seeing Chen Ze take the initiative to drink with him, Wu Zongliang, who now wore a look of panic, hurriedly gripped his glass. He had known Chen Ze held leverage over him, but he hadn't expected it to be this—this was no laughing matter.

"Hahaha, relax."

Chen Ze looked at the glass that was being offered to him, placed lower than his own, and smiled comfortingly:

"President Wu, I am here to be your friend. If we weren't friends, you wouldn't be able to drink this wine anymore."

Seeing Chen Ze point to the Moutai, he realized—that was it. Who in the police station would provide Moutai for you to drink?

"Yes."

Whether out of courage or fear, Wu Zongliang nodded, took the bottle, and filled the decanter. Then, he downed it in one go!

"President Wu is truly as capable as he was in his younger days."

In truth, Chen Ze knew nothing of Wu Zongliang's past, but he used this idiom specifically to elicit a bitter smile from him. As the 100ml decanter was drained to the last drop, Wu Zongliang finally lowered his head and said miserably:

"I beg Mr. Chen to give me a chance."

Seeing this, Chen Ze beckoned for Wu Zongliang to lean in, leaned over, and whispered into his ear...