Chapter 39: Soul (9)

Wen Mingwei woke up from a nightmare with a start.

He had rarely dreamt of Wen Mingzhe. Perhaps it was because he had recently revisited that old place, and the river had stirred up long-forgotten childhood memories. Many years ago, Wen Mingzhe had led a group of boys to bully him by the river, pinning his face into the water to test how many seconds he could hold his breath and whether he would drown.

In the dream, the freezing river water flooded his nasal cavity and choked his lungs. Wen Mingwei struggled desperately, but the more he choked, the more water rushed in. The sensation of suffocation was intense, right until a hand appeared—

Wen Mingwei snapped his eyes open, dazed for a long moment, before remembering he was back in Xijing, not in the old family estate in Longdu.

There was a soft light nearby; Tan Zhao, having just returned from the study, was checking his phone. Wen Mingwei glanced over and vaguely caught sight of an email interface on the screen. Noticing him wake up suddenly, Tan Zhao pressed "Delete," and the email vanished—the movement a bit too unnatural.

"What did you delete?" Wen Mingwei asked casually.

"Spam."

Tan Zhao set his phone aside. The only light source in the bedroom vanished, and in the pitch blackness, Wen Mingwei suddenly leaned in to hug him, burying his cheek against Tan Zhao's shoulder. "I just had a nightmare," he murmured.

"What dream?"

"I dreamt I was being bullied by Wen Mingzhe, and then," he paused, "Jian Qingzheng saved me."

"..."

Tan Zhao wanted to throw him off instantly but forced himself to endure it. He suspected that every time Wen Mingwei suddenly clung to him, it had something to do with Jian Qingzheng. Because he missed an old flame and felt a void in his heart, he could only use a substitute to fill it.

Tan Zhao remained silent for a long while, forcibly suppressing the churning negative emotions, and changed the subject: "Wen Mingwei, I want to talk to you about work tomorrow."

"Talk about what?"

"A proposal I drafted regarding the Renxin Bridge partnership."

Tan Zhao’s unexpected initiative surprised Wen Mingwei. He looked at him, puzzled: "So cooperative? I thought you wouldn't want to collaborate anymore."

"Does what I think matter?" Tan Zhao didn't hide his tone. "Since I have no choice, I might as well maximize the benefits. I went to Renzhou for a field inspection last time; investing in building the bridge isn't without profit."

Wen Mingwei shifted into a more comfortable position against him: "For example?"

"The basics: bridge tolls," Tan Zhao said earnestly. "Based on population and traffic flow forecasts for Renzhou and Xinzhou, once the sea-crossing bridge is built, the daily traffic volume will be at least 200,000. The toll revenue will be considerable. Based on equity shares, the Tan Corporation is the largest shareholder, so we should take the lion's share."

"Mm." That was agreeable.

"But relying solely on tolls, it will take at least fifteen years to recoup the cost, and the construction period after the project is approved will take three years. That means it will take eighteen years to break even—it's too slow."

If the Tan Corporation’s investment were only seven billion, it would count as a high-quality, stable long-term investment. But it wasn't seven billion; it was seventy billion. Having this seventy-billion "deficit" tied up for eighteen years would be detrimental to the group's capital turnover. If any other project ran into trouble, the risk would be immense. Moreover, a large portion of this seventy billion came from bank loans secured by Tan Corporation assets, which had to be repaid.

"So, I’m thinking of acquiring land near several scenic sections of the bridge to build commercial districts and develop tourism. That would yield significant returns."

Tan Zhao grew more animated as he spoke: "What do you think? It doesn't conflict with your goals, does it?" Their primary goal was to build the bridge and secure political achievements in infrastructure; how the bridge economy was developed was secondary.

But for Tan Zhao, this was precisely the most important part.

"I need to see a return," he said. "After all, it’s a seventy-billion investment. If there’s no prospect, even if I use tactics to force the board to pass the proposal, it will be hard to convince them later, and my job will be difficult."

Tan Zhao looked at Wen Mingwei with a gaze seeking understanding, though he felt a bit uneasy even in the darkness.

Wen Mingwei, leaning in his arms, had gone from being indifferent to gradually becoming clear-headed. His gaze shifted from the void to Tan Zhao's face. He remained silent for a long time, then suddenly couldn't help but laugh.

Tan Zhao didn't understand the meaning of that smile: "What's wrong? Do you see a problem with it?"

It was the first time they had talked about work so seriously.

Wen Mingwei’s gaze seemed to have a penetrating power; he didn't seem to care much about the proposal itself, but rather about the mindset Tan Zhao held while doing this. In other words, Wen Mingwei was examining him.

Tan Zhao held his posture, his chin not dropping even an inch.

Wen Mingwei didn't say whether it was good or bad; he suddenly climbed onto his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him.

"..."

In the middle of discussing business, he suddenly started kissing him. Tan Zhao was caught off guard and pinned down. Wen Mingwei kissed from his lips to his jaw and neck, undoing his pajamas.

"What you're talking about doesn't actually fall under my jurisdiction."

Wen Mingwei reached to the edge of the bed for a hair tie to bind his cumbersome long hair and said, "I generally only care whether a task gets done. If I manage things too meticulously, it makes it hard for the people below me. They have their own ways of doing things; I only care about the results."

"So?"

"I'll have Xinning come over, and you can talk to her tomorrow."

This wasn't a brush-off. Wen Mingwei was a hands-off manager who only controlled the general direction and did none of the specific legwork. Otherwise, if he had to personally oversee every project, how could he possibly handle it all?

Although, given the importance of the Renxin Bridge, he should indeed pay more attention, but Tan Zhao wanting to acquire land in Renzhou for scenic development was outside the scope of the bridge project. It was an additional condition that would inevitably involve the local government.

Renzhou was one of the must-contest regions in every election; the political waters were deep, and the connections were complex. If he just nodded, Jian Xinning and Zhou Jiwen might not be able to handle it, so it required prior negotiation.

The hands-off manager role wasn't easy to play. Wen Mingwei was a master of personnel management, knowing how to balance kindness with authority and how to be considerate of his subordinates. He would never impulsively cause trouble for others.

He didn't cause trouble for others, but he certainly wouldn't let Tan Zhao off the hook.

Tan Zhao had work to do the next day, yet he was kept up by Wen Mingwei until dawn. Tan Zhao appeared quite reluctant, but his body’s reactions were hard to hide.

The last time, Wen Mingwei got tired halfway through and wanted to stop. With Tan Zhao still on him, not knowing whether to continue or stop, Tan Zhao couldn't hold back and pressed him to finish. It was actually quite awkward, but the darkness relieved most of that. Tan Zhao acted as if nothing had happened, and Wen Mingwei was too drowsy to pay much attention.

The next day, it was the fifth day of their "new relationship."

Tan Zhao and Wen Mingwei woke up in the same bed as usual, but unlike previous days, Wen Mingwei, the master, showed mercy today and untied the "pet leash," allowing Tan Zhao to leave for work.

After the events of the previous night, Tan Zhao had sealed off his emotions even further, as if it didn't matter how Wen Mingwei treated him anymore. He wasn't angry about being tied up, nor happy about gaining temporary freedom. With a blank face, he grabbed his car keys and left.

Wen Mingwei didn't see him out, nor did he eat breakfast.

Because he had resumed his medication, the side effects were gradually reappearing. Wen Mingwei’s sleep time had increased, and his state of mind was a bit drifting.

It wasn't until nearly noon that he finally went downstairs. Gu Jing helped him wash his hair, and after drying it, he tied the long hair at the nape of his neck with a loose knot, then sat with him downstairs to read.

Jian Xinning arrived in the evening.

Wen Mingwei had asked her to come and discuss the specific terms with Tan Zhao to establish a preliminary proposal. In truth, Wen Mingwei already had a good idea of what was possible; there wasn't much worth discussing, mostly whether the scenic land Tan Zhao wanted could actually be acquired.

It was about 6:30 when Jian Xinning arrived, just as Tan Zhao had finished work.

Two cars stopped in front of the house at the same time. Tan Zhao got out first and glanced at the person behind him, seemingly inadvertently.

Jian Xinning was wearing a suit skirt today, her hair coiled high, her demeanor professional, her expression silent, and her mood seemingly poor. This was the first time Tan Zhao had seen her since learning the truth, and he felt a psychological discomfort toward this face that was both strange and familiar.

When Jian Xinning looked up and returned the gaze with a similar look, Tan Zhao keenly sensed that Jian Xinning didn't want to see him either.

If they had to choose one person to stay, who would Wen Mingwei need more?

"..."

Tan Zhao suppressed this self-humiliating thought, forced himself to endure the physical nausea, and walked into the house one after the other with Jian Xinning, treating each other like air, neither of them saying a word.

She must have known what happened over the past few days.

So what?

Tan Zhao thought to himself, even if he were ninety percent at fault, wasn't the most critical ten percent on Wen Mingwei?

Tan Zhao took off his suit jacket, handed it to the butler, and went to wash his hands, as he was familiar with the house. Dinner was being prepared in the kitchen, and the aroma of food filled the first floor. Jian Xinning coming at this time probably meant she was staying for dinner.

Tan Zhao lost his appetite before he even started eating. He took out the hard copy of the proposal and walked to the sofa in the living room.

Wen Mingwei had been waiting for a long time. Seeing him approach, he pointed to the opposite side: "Sit. You two talk; I'll just listen in."

Perhaps because a third party was present, Wen Mingwei’s attitude was strictly professional.

Jian Xinning sat on his side, took Tan Zhao’s proposal, and flipped through a few pages. Her brows furrowed and smoothed in turns. "Mr. Tan, the bridge tolls and naming rights are no problem, but acquiring development rights for the scenic land might not be easy."

"Of course," Tan Zhao remained polite. "It's already difficult for us to cooperate; there are obstacles in every link, but they aren't unsolvable."

"..."

Jian Xinning was also polite, but slightly cold. "Actually, the toll revenue is already very generous. Although the payback is slow, conservatively estimated at fifteen years, there is another fifteen-year toll period after that. The return rate is quite high, stable, and low-risk. For any enterprise, it is absolutely a safe, winning investment—"

She didn't finish before Tan Zhao said expressionlessly, "Then why do you think no other company is willing to invest?"

"..."

Tan Zhao sounded slightly mocking. Jian Xinning was silent for two seconds and glanced at Wen Mingwei. She had always been strong externally, but she wouldn't usually vent in front of Wen Mingwei. She endured it and said, "Mr. Tan, objectively speaking, our partnership hasn't mistreated you. I will satisfy the conditions I can, and I won't haggle over them. But that assumes these conditions are reasonable."

Jian Xinning’s tone softened, but her words remained firm. "The bridge is the bridge, and the land is the land. If you want development rights for the land, go bid for them. How can we manipulate the results?"

"..."

That was too hypocritical, Tan Zhao thought. Aren't you playing a game of political manipulation? You can even control votes, yet you're dragging your feet over a few pieces of land.

But saying that would be too direct and show no mercy.

Tan Zhao also glanced at Wen Mingwei, trying to glean some attitude from his face. But Wen Mingwei was truly just listening in, showing no expression at all.