Old Bear was a forward-thinking man who enjoyed an atmosphere of freedom, democracy, and negotiation. However, with his public resignation as the founder, Wei Qian became the dictator of the entire company, and the old system of lively debates and approvals quickly became obsolete.
As Lin Qing put it, since Mr. Wei became Director Wei, his terror level escalated from a "big sneezing monster" to a "demon king." The once humane and flat-hierarchical company became as fragile as a soap bubble, shattered with a single slap from him.
Within a week of Wei Qian's appointment, the entire company turned into a mechanized concentration camp.
Surprisingly, under this Nazi-like pressure, work efficiency almost doubled.
During lunch break, the HR department locked its doors to discuss this outcome internally. Lin Qing summed up the reason: every time Director Wei coldly stared at someone delaying his work, that gaze made people shudder and almost want to leave immediately.
The insider information from Wei Qian's office was dubbed the "Midnight Bell." Answering the phone to his succinct and abrupt command, "Come to my office," was as terrifying as a death sentence.
The documents to be submitted to creditors were repeatedly sent back by Wei Qian for rewriting over twenty times, leaving the managers of the investment, finance, and budget departments feeling as if they were about to sacrifice themselves.
They had to work overtime, and administrative and HR departments had to cooperate. Even the headquarters dared not step out to buy drinks, only sneaking out occasionally.
And so, for over half a month, day and night blurred into one, with an average daily work time exceeding twelve hours.
As for... weekends? What were those? Did they even exist?
Finally, after much struggle, the final version received Wei Qian's reluctant approval.
The perception that the new boss was a lunatic became ingrained in the minds of every employee, yet strangely, none of them resigned in the end.
In times of crisis, lunatics were more effective than lenient leaders.
A month later, Wei Qian, accompanied by San Pang and two department managers, visited several creditors and underwent numerous negotiations.
The result was a success; Wei Qian managed to extend the repayment deadline by a year.
The cost was that he had almost entirely mortgaged the equity of the projects currently in progress.
As San Pang put it, "Well, now we've gone from a death sentence to a reprieve — hey, isn't that your kid Xiao Yuan? What's he doing here?"
Wei Qian had the car parked under the company's office building and leaned out, asking, "Why are you here?"
Wei Zhiyuan got off his bicycle and handed a lunchbox through the car window, saying, "I'll be attending a seminar with a teacher out of town next week, might not be back until the weekend. I've arranged everything for what to do each day, and I've paid the hourly maid for her work and grocery expenses. If there's any laundry, just leave it in the small basket by the door, she'll pick it up. I've also bought extra daily necessities for the house, organized Grandma's medicine in order, with instructions on how many pills to take for each, pasted next to each bottle. If Xiao Bao isn't home, you can give it to her, three times a day."
Wei Qian subtly frowned. Although there was nothing he needed to do among Wei Zhiyuan's long list of instructions, hearing it all felt both trivial and troublesome.
"Remember to eat on time," Wei Zhiyuan said, "I've put a crate of milk in the fridge. Warm it up before drinking, don't drink it cold."
After Wei Zhiyuan finished his instructions, he seemed to remember that there were others present, and with a slightly embarrassed smile, as if realizing someone else was there, he said, "Bro, San, I'm off then."
After he finished speaking, he slung his single-shoulder bag over his shoulder, got on his bike, and disappeared around the street corner in the blink of an eye.
The expressions of the two managers were as if they had just seen Osama bin Laden picking his nose — even though their eccentric boss hadn't said much from start to finish, he seemed pleasant and agreeable.
Mr. Wei being pleasant and agreeable? That was like Jurassic Park and doughnuts, two completely unrelated things!
At this moment, only San Pang felt calm... even stern.
He, from an observer's perspective, sensed a looming crisis — when did Wei Qian's family become so verbose?
Wei Qian used to live such a carefree life. If he wanted to eat fried dough sticks, he'd shout downstairs with the window open; if he didn't have any change, he'd just owe it; if he didn't feel like eating, he'd grab a handful of rice and throw it into the pot, boiling up a pot of congee. Even during the days when he rode his bike to school in the morning, he'd casually grab a corn cob from Grandma Song's pot, holding onto it with one hand while gripping the handlebars with the other, gnawing away. Although it had been several years, San Pang still had a vivid illusion.
Having spent so much time in the office, San Pang couldn't help but delve into deeper thoughts. Wei Zhiyuan felt like a quietly weaving spider, imperceptibly constructing an invisible web of order in their home. Everyone subconsciously adapted and obeyed — including Wei Qian, the head of the family.
San Pang had clearly seen Wei Qian's frown just now, and with their bond since childhood, he could read a message like "Huh? Why suddenly talk about leaving, such a hassle" from his eyes.
In the past, let alone the younger brother going out for a week, even if Wei Zhiyuan went abroad for a two-year Antarctic expedition, it wouldn't have been a problem. Whoever wanted to go wherever, as long as they didn't die outside and didn't come back, Wei Qian would probably even encourage them with some money — fewer nuisances around him meant more peace for him.
Things changed, imperceptibly.
Wei Qian got out of the car with the lunchbox, and San Pang hurriedly followed, accompanying him upstairs. He decided he needed to figure out what this was all about.
San Pang tentatively asked, "How come you've become a hands-off boss at home?"
Wei Qian sighed, "I just don't have the time."
San Pang half-jokingly remarked, "You can't be like this, Your Majesty. Your power has been usurped, don't you remember which way the door to the internal affairs chamber opens? Do you still know which brand of toilet paper your family uses, or how much the hourly maid earns?"
Wei Qian remained silent.
He really didn't know.
Back when Grandma Song was in charge, because she couldn't read, there were many things she didn't understand and couldn't handle, so Wei Qian had to be vigilant. Since Grandma Song fell ill, seemingly unnoticed by anyone, these matters had been taken over by Wei Zhiyuan. Wei Qian hadn't given them much thought since then.
San Pang shook his head. "It's over, Your Majesty. You can just wait to be overthrown."
Wei Qian smiled, not taking it to heart, thinking he was just joking around.
San Pang circled back and said, "Oh, by the way, I wanted to ask, your son is almost a junior in college now. Has he not brought a sister-in-law back to you yet?"
This kid just had to touch on that sensitive topic. Wei Qian's expression changed instantly. "Don't bring up that matter."
Looking around to make sure no one was there, San Pang followed Wei Qian into his office, one step at a time. "What's going on? Did he find a tasteless girl or a lioness from the East?"
"That's good then. As long as it's a living female, Wei Qian feels he can tolerate it."
Another year passed with the debt still looming over him. Wei Qian felt like he had barely caught his breath when San Pang intercepted him again. Initially, he didn't want to elaborate, preferring to brush it off casually, saying, "I'm busy every day with a heap of extracurricular activities, in and out of class. Occasionally, I manage some investments and make a little money."
"Oh, I know about that. Back then, when we were his age, weren't we also fooled by Old Bear, saying 'labor is the past, capital is the present, technology is the future'? We dared to do the 'present' back then, and those with prospects are already eyeing the 'future'." San Pang said, "When you were away on business, I saw those kids once. They all had laptops, gathering at your place. A few boys and a couple of girls. Hey, one of the girls, I don't know how to describe her appearance, but she definitely had a taste of the 'future,' especially handsome..."
Wei Qian couldn't swallow a bite of the meal prepared by Wei Zhiyuan, placing the lunch box aside. He twirled the chopsticks between his fingers, unable to resist and reluctantly told San Pang the truth, "No chance. Even if that girl turned into a celestial being, it wouldn't work out."
San Pang sensed the climax approaching. Wei Qian's answer was imminent. His eyelids twitched, feeling a bitter sense of impending doom.
Sure enough, Wei Qian, feeling powerless, said, "That bastard told me he's attracted to a guy. I've been arguing with him for years, but he's not budging."
Although San Pang had anticipated it early on, hearing it firsthand left him unsure of what expression to adopt. He could only feign an incredulous face.
Wei Qian sighed, looked up, and instructed San Pang, "It's something I only tell my real brother. Don't go spreading it around; it's not good for the kids."
Watching Wei Qian, San Pang sorrowfully realized that this oblivious brother of his was still doling out money to people.
He knew he couldn't reveal the truth. Wei Qian might not believe him, and even if he did, who knew what consequences would follow. So, he pretended to be delicate, trembling as he asked, "So... didn't he tell you who he's interested in?"
Wei Qian glanced at him, "Who knows—definitely not you. Don't worry, you're safe."
San Pang felt a mixture of misery and frustration, lamenting, "My brother..."
Wei Qian thought he was lamenting Wei Zhiyuan. He waved his hand, saying, "Let him be. I can't control him anyway."
Yes, foolish brother, you might not have a say in the matter when the time comes. San Pang looked at Wei Qian with a deeply troubled expression, silently left his office, finally understanding how Wei Qian had mistaken a high fever for just a minor ailment and pneumonia for a common cold. He had never despised Wei Qian's carelessness as much as he did now.
Back home, San Pang became increasingly uneasy about the situation. Like most straight men, Wei Zhiyuan's distorted feelings towards Wei Qian were unsettling.
He had watched Wei Zhiyuan grow up, from calling him "Third Brother" as a child to now. San Pang didn't want to maliciously speculate about him or judge him, let alone use the word "disgusting" to describe him. But to accept it calmly was also out of the question.
San Pang felt he understood Wei Zhiyuan's intentions. Wei Zhiyuan was trying to assert his presence in some way. If this continued, Wei Qian would never be able to leave him.
Due to family circumstances during childhood, Wei Qian already had some barriers in his interactions with women. San Pang didn't want to see Wei Zhiyuan go down the wrong path, nor did he want to see his brother get involved.
This couldn't go on. It was dangerous. He had to think of a way to disrupt this situation—San Pang thought to himself with growing determination.
Regardless of San Pang's intentions, after Wei Qian exhausted all his resources to temporarily resolve the debt issue, he found a turning point to revitalize the project, brought by the most unreliable consultant in history.
The fees of large consulting firms varied from hundreds of thousands to tens of millions. For Wei Qian, for whom "money is everything" at the moment, it was excessively expensive. He could only afford some local, relatively smaller consulting firms. They sent someone to negotiate with him.
The person who came was named Ma Chunming, about the same age as Wei Qian, with a baby face and dimples when he smiled. His appearance, attire, and manner of speaking seemed to epitomize the phrase "smooth talker, unreliable in action," making him appear particularly unreliable.
Wei Qian looked at his shabby, almost like performance art, old suit and had to patiently inquire, "May I ask what your academic background is?"
The consultant, Comrade Ma Chunming, proudly informed him, "Food safety."
Wei Qian: "..."
Seeing his expression, Ma Chunming's confidence took a blow. He cautiously opened the folder in front of him and explained softly, "But I don't think my major matters. The ability to quickly grasp an industry within ten days is what the client needs."
Wei Qian pondered for a moment, realizing there was some truth to it. After all, he himself had a background in life sciences and had somehow ended up in this position. People depended on this for a living, so they should have some skills, right?
So, he maintained his polite and gentle attitude and continued to ask, "Then may I ask, how did you manage to grasp the entire industry within ten days for the last project you took on, which was unrelated to your field of study?"
Ma Chunming pondered for a moment, adopting a posture and tone akin to self-reflection, "Well... to be honest, this was my first time dealing with this kind of business. I... I just graduated from school as a doctoral student, and it's been less than half a year since I started working."
A food safety Ph.D. with no mentor or guidance, standing in front of a real estate tycoon—what difference was there between him and a child left in the desert who had just learned to walk?
Wei Qian even noticed Ma Chunming's hand holding the folder trembling slightly.
What did they say about getting what you pay for?
Wei Qian completely lost what little patience he had left and decided to make a call to have this Ph.D. removed.
Little did he know, Ma Chunming suddenly became astute. Seeing Wei Qian's indifferent expression and his hand reaching for the phone, he immediately realized his impending fate of being thrown out. He hurriedly tried to salvage the situation, speaking rapidly like a machine gun, desperately fighting for his chance, "I-I-I can really understand an industry within ten days! Please, just listen to our approach!"
Wei Qian said coldly, "I don't need to listen. I don't want to spend money to have someone who studied food teach me how to sell houses—even if it's a Ph.D."
After speaking, he picked up the phone and dialed the administration. "Send someone over to help me escort the guest out."
Ma Chunming nervously bit his fingernails, his eyes blinking rapidly. His round face made him look like a startled groundhog.
"Please, please listen! I'll finish soon—first, we would research what sustains the entire industry, what everyone is selling," the groundhog spoke rapidly, facing Wei Qian's indifferent gaze. Beads of sweat quickly formed on his forehead, but he had no choice but to continue speaking, hoping to touch a glimmer of hope in front of this young leader.
"After studying the actual value, we would then research the sources of these values, from the beginning of 'production' to the final sale, identifying which steps are supportive and which are critical, the ones that create value."
At this moment, the door to Wei Qian's office opened, and a male employee from the administrative office greeted Wei Qian professionally before his gaze fell on the consultant who seemed on the verge of tears. Politely, he asked, "Are we escorting this guest out?"
Ma Chunming hadn't expected to mess up so quickly. He suddenly felt that life had turned bleak, gazing at Wei Qian with a mix of bitterness and resentment. He picked up his bag listlessly, filled with despair, thinking, "Is there anyone in the world as useless as me? After earning a Ph.D., I can't even find a suitable job. After finally managing to get into a 'consulting firm,' I find it's practically a 'scam company.' I'm being ridiculed by clients on my first assignment..."
Feeling like such a person didn't deserve to live, Ma Chunming decided that once he left here, the first thing he would do was find a subway station and throw himself onto the tracks.
Just then, Wei Qian suddenly spoke, "No, I want you to pour a glass of water for the guest. He'll be staying a bit longer."
Ma Chunming, who had been imagining being crushed by a speeding train, froze.
It wasn't until the staff member poured him a glass of water and quietly left that Wei Qian interlocked his hands on the table. "What were you saying just now? About the value of each step from the project's inception to the sale of the product? Explain in detail."
Ma Chunming let out a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "It's about understanding each step, what needs to be done in the early stages, during construction, and so on, and how each step impacts the project's success."
Wei Qian suddenly had a feeling of enlightenment; he realized where he had gone wrong.
When he first collaborated with General Zhang, Zhang's value lay in his connections. He had significant influence locally and could obtain desired land under favorable terms, thus reducing the final product's cost. That was the value, reflected in the substantial reduction of the end product's cost.
However, this time was different. General Zhang was a local power player who traveled all the way to City C to fight for a piece of land without any foundation. As a result, he lost his minimal advantage.
The process of obtaining land use rights went exceptionally smoothly, so smooth that it seemed almost taken for granted.
But they should have known that the land acquisition process was obviously a crucial value-adding step. Connections or superior planning were key points of value addition, yet these crucial points were not reflected at all. The government readily approved the land use permit. Wouldn't that lead to the conclusion of "easy to pluck but bitter" in the end?
Relying solely on luck was not enough.
Wei Qian suddenly grasped the crux of the matter and immediately flashed several directions for solution.
"Ma Chunming, right?" He lifted his head and smiled at the nervous groundhog. "We sincerely invite you to stay and complete this consulting project. And if possible, we welcome you to join our company afterward."
The next morning, Wei Qian arrived at the company early for a meeting. Wei Zhiyuan packed his bags, informed Grandma Song, and took a final stroll around the house to ensure nothing was overlooked before leaving.
He didn't know how effective his strategy of gradual takeover would be. Wei Zhiyuan decided to test it out. It wasn't feasible for him to be around all the time; occasionally being away for a few days would reveal the opponent's true intentions. That's why he agreed to the teacher's invitation.
This was a progress test.
Wei Zhiyuan was unaware that his opponent for the foreseeable future would be San Pang, this invisible agent of destruction. He optimistically estimated that it would take just one or two years for him to succeed at this rate.
He thought he still had plenty of time to plan meticulously.
Xiao Bao briefly stayed in the dormitory of the art school during the vacation for extra training. So, when Wei Zhiyuan left, the house became empty.
Grandma Song laboriously leaned on her cane and shuffled out of her room, sweating profusely after walking around the house twice.
"I'm useless," she thought, looking down at the cane in her hand. "Once you pick up this thing, you can't throw it away."
She felt gloomy—recently, Grandma Song had been like this. When given food, she would eat it; when given something to buy, she would habitually scold others for not knowing how to live. She either appeared furious or listless, becoming extremely difficult to please. No one knew how to make her happy anymore.
Grandma Song was acutely aware that she was losing herself. She began to lose her sharpness with numbers, unable to keep track of accounts, and even the concept of money became faint to her. The things she said would be forgotten after a couple of minutes, only to be remembered again half a day later, realizing that she had spoken annoyingly repetitive words.
She had bravely survived and recovered physically but had lost the ability to be happy.
And with Xiao Bao, who could talk and laugh, gone, she felt even more lonely.
Grandma Song slowly shuffled with her cane, opening the door to the next room. She planned to sit with Ma Zi's mother for a while. Her speech was now unclear, requiring several repetitions for others to understand. They were all busy, and Grandma Song was afraid of bothering them, so Ma Zi's mother was the only one who had time to chat with her.
As she entered Ma Zi's mother's house, Grandma Song noticed Ma Zi's mother staring at an old map of the city.
Grandma Song asked, "What are you doing, sister?"
Ma Zi's mother turned around, seeing Grandma Song, but she didn't panic. She knew that her actions would astonish anyone who saw them, except for this old lady.
They shared the same feeling of helplessness, the same pain, and loneliness.
"Sister," Ma Zi's mother lowered her voice, wearing a strange, pure, and anticipatory smile, like a child about to go to an amusement park. She said to Grandma Song, "I'm planning to leave."