It was practically within his grasp.

"Hahahaha."

A man's confidence always stems from his own strength—and the cash in his pockets. Chen Ze took the Baxian tea out of the bag. Looking at the tea, which cost over ten thousand, he couldn't help but laugh out loud, feeling perfectly at ease.

"I just want to get ahead, brothers."

Wu Zongliang had left, and the private room was once again occupied by just the two of them. Chen Ze felt a sense of satisfaction he hadn't experienced in a long time. This was a pleasure that no amount of free money or background power offered by others could ever match.

He had said it before: the resources of a bank cannot be begged for. They must be fought for.

In reality, Chen Ze didn't have any evidence of Wu Zongliang's corruption; it was impossible to uncover in just two days. The investigation firm had only provided him with proof of Wu Zongliang’s mistress and some other trivial, albeit annoying, information—that was all. The investigation firm wasn't composed of gods; uncovering even that much was already quite an achievement.

Was that information worth 500,000? In the eyes of the investigation firm, it might have been worth much more. They could have blackmailed Wu Zongliang for one or even two million. However, the risks involved were too great. Going up against the president of a major bank was not something they could handle; it would likely result in mutual destruction. Therefore, they chose to take Chen Ze’s money—a path without pressure or lingering concerns. For Chen Ze, however, the value of that information was much higher, and only he knew just how high.

Before Wu Zongliang left, Chen Ze had leaked the misconduct of another bank executive, encouraging him to recruit that person instead. It was a silent move that spoke volumes. The greater the ambition, the greater the yield.

Chen Ze hadn't lied to Wu Zongliang earlier; he truly didn't have a backup of the evidence regarding the mistress. If Wu Zongliang hadn't cooperated, he would have had no choice but to blow the whistle out of spite. But he had gambled that he could control the man. And why report him anyway? To rid the people of a pest? Chen Ze wasn't that noble. Having a bank official on a leash without the need for bribery—there was nothing more cost-effective in this world.

For the next three to five years, Chen Ze actually didn't want Wu Zongliang to fall. Once certain collaborations were established, he would have new, indirect evidence, allowing him to keep holding the leash. He wouldn't engage in illegal activities himself, but in this world, those who don't look out for themselves are doomed.

Everything was developing in a positive direction, and the layout was nearly complete. Chen Ze was genuinely happy now—happier than he had ever been!

"Baby, come have a drink with me!"

After putting the 26,000-value tea back into an ordinary paper bag, Chen Ze looked at the beauty beside him. When Gong Bingyan looked up, she was holding a small pink circular toy in her hand. She stared straight at Chen Ze and frowned. "Who the hell are you?!"

Gong Bingyan hadn't heard everything Chen Ze and Wu Zongliang said, but she could guess. This was a conspiracy directed at her uncle. So...

With a clatter, Gong Bingyan threw the toy away in frustration, and a sudden chill filled the air. Her reaction wasn't surprising. Chen Ze’s expression remained unchanged as he pushed the wine pot toward her. "I said, have a drink with me."

"What exactly are you trying to do? I didn't provoke you, so why the hell are you playing with me like this?!"

Gong Bingyan had just turned eighteen, possessing the temperament of a child who roared at the slightest provocation to prove she was still young. Chen Ze was also young; he grabbed Wu Zongliang’s small wine cup and hurled it against the wall, muttering, "Can you calm down and listen to me?"

The sound of the shattering glass and Chen Ze’s sudden movement startled Gong Bingyan. She instinctively covered her head, and only after hearing his relatively gentle voice did she dare to lift her head, trembling slightly. Chen Ze handed her a cigarette, and before long, the beauty took it with a mix of lingering fear and resentment.

"When I first saw you at the bar, I really liked you. It was only later that I found out who you were." Chen Ze took a few drags, feeling that these slim cigarettes were quite annoying at times, so he tossed it into Wu Zongliang’s decanter and picked up his chopsticks again. "You should think about this carefully. If I wanted to harm you, you wouldn't have been able to attend this dinner. I would have kept you in the dark until you lost something. But ask yourself: what have you lost right now?"

People are easily impulsive. They just need to be coaxed.

Gong Bingyan wiped her fingers irritably, calmed her mind, and thought it over. Chen Ze had a point. He had implicitly admitted to knowing her identity, and that logic held up. But Gong Bingyan wasn't a fool; she realized she was falling into his trap and said indignantly, "You aren't harming me, but you’re clearly going after my uncle. What’s the difference?"

High-end restaurants seemed to love serving squab. Chen Ze picked up a leg and nibbled on it. "You really think so?"

"Otherwise what!"

Seeing Chen Ze eating so heartlessly made Gong Bingyan even angrier, but her reason told her she couldn't win...

"But it’s a fact that your uncle is planning to run. What good will it do you after he’s gone?"

This question left Gong Bingyan stunned, as if she had heard something ridiculous. Looking at it objectively, having lived abroad for years, she had no real emotional attachment to China. If Gong Yaowu ran, she would certainly run too.

"If he runs, what about your shares?"

Chen Ze continued to nibble the leg, his eyes fixed on Gong Bingyan’s face, not missing a single detail. To be honest, he didn't know if she had inherited any shares; he was gambling. If he won, the conversation would continue. If he lost, he would just knock her out. He wouldn't let her ruin his plans. If she sued him for kidnapping later, it wouldn't matter, because he had a recording on his phone of their SM encounter where she admitted it was consensual. Rope art? A common practice in SM. As for lawsuits, they were just a matter of money. Once Gong Yaowu was gone, what would she have to fight him with?

The small squab leg was finished. Gong Bingyan’s twelve-second silence prompted a smile from Chen Ze. "If he runs, he’ll take the money with him—probably one, two, or even three billion."

Hearing this, Gong Bingyan couldn't help but look up, her face filled with anxiety and unease. It was easy for him to say. Would Chen Ze let her uncle go? Even though she didn't know why he was targeting Gong Yaowu.

"As his only niece, because your shares are being used as a sacrifice, he might give you a hundred million in compensation out of guilt or family ties." Chen Ze picked up his chopsticks, watched the large turntable slowly rotate, and grabbed some Typhoon Shelter-style shrimp, nibbling as he spoke. "You’re eighteen now. Having never seen so much money, you might be thrilled, but this is money that will eventually run out. After a while, you’ll be dissatisfied. You’ll wonder why your uncle took so much while you got less than ten percent, or perhaps even less."

Once the shrimp was finished, Chen Ze took the opportunity to scoop some crab roe into his mouth, smacked his lips, and added, "When you ask your uncle for money then, do you think he’ll give it to you? Would he be willing to?"

Watching Chen Ze’s curious gaze, Gong Bingyan was completely stunned and incredulous. Setting aside the fact that Chen Ze had constructed a narrative, the information he revealed showed he understood her and Gong Yaowu’s personalities so perfectly that it felt as if it had already happened. Gong Bingyan was greedy for money—no woman isn't—and in a sense, Chen Ze’s words made perfect sense. She would be dissatisfied with her uncle taking more.

"But he is my uncle, after all." Gong Bingyan said coldly. In her heart, Chen Ze was an outsider, and she wouldn't easily trust one.

"Silly woman." Chen Ze put down his chopsticks, sighed, poured himself a full glass of wine, and drank it down with a look of melancholy. "In this world, there is only interest. Family ties can fill a person’s stomach, but they cannot fill a person’s heart. The moment you ask for money a second time, you’ve signed your own death warrant."

Gong Bingyan’s brow furrowed deeper. She felt that what Chen Ze said made sense, yet she felt something was off.

"Let me ask you: does he have any descendants? I know everything you know, so just answer."

Hearing this, Gong Bingyan’s beautiful, large eyes darted over, and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded.

"Does your uncle gamble?" Gong Bingyan shook her head.

"Does he play the stock market?" Gong Bingyan shook her head, then nodded.

"Does he have assets abroad?" Gong Bingyan paused for a moment. Her previously serious expression shattered like a broken kite, and she said, lost and confused, "I don't know..."

She didn't know how Chen Ze did it, but now, her mind couldn't help but dwell on that line—the narrative Chen Ze had suggested. Seeing her complicated expression, Chen Ze chuckled inwardly at the little girl, gripped his wine glass, and said, "Your uncle will harm you, but I won't. Not because of love, but because there is interest between us. I’ve enjoyed sleeping with you, so naturally, our interest-based relationship can last. And because I want to continue this relationship, I’m letting you know all this. Otherwise, I could have just finished everything secretly. I wouldn't care, but you would be left with nothing. I’m telling you in advance because I’m considering your interests."

Having nearly secured her, and feeling quite full, Chen Ze looked at the food on the table. He hadn't touched much. He had already communicated with Su Wei to have the protesting workers come over to eat tomorrow so they could get together and boost their morale. Besides, food shouldn't be wasted. There were still sixteen dishes left to be served.

Tearing open a wet wipe, Chen Ze looked at Gong Bingyan, who was still deep in thought, wiped his mouth, and asked, "We're going to the hotel. Are you coming or not?"

Seeing her not move, Chen Ze stood up and said, "One last time: are you going to the hotel?"

Gong Bingyan gave the somewhat fierce "nice guy" a resentful look, stood up, and followed him helplessly.

"That's a good girl. Come here and let me pat your butt."