176: Chapter 177 Tearing Apart the Immaculate Concept of Arrogance! The Sandbox Life Behind the High-Class Families

In the cramped living room of the old house, the second hand of the wall clock ticked past three marks.

Shen Du's breathing slowed to the extreme at this moment, his chest barely rising or falling.

He did not immediately respond to Wang Hanmei.

His deep pupils were fixed intently on the wood grain of the coffee table.

His brain was in an overclocked state, frantically replaying every detail of his confrontations with the top brass over the past two years.

The first thing to be unearthed was that meeting room in the Shanghai Center with the extremely high security clearance.

That was his first one-on-one meeting with Secretary Shen Hai.

That internal encrypted mobile phone, which represented one of the highest communication authorities in China and could dial the desks of high-ranking regional officials directly.

At the time, it had been pushed in front of him so casually.

Shen Du had originally, arrogantly believed.

That it was because the Cold Etching Machine chip foundry he held, which was just beginning to take shape, possessed irreplaceable strategic value in the macro-strategy.

That was why he had received such exceptional, highest-level courtesy from the authorities.

But now.

This filter of taken-for-granted logic was completely torn apart by the words "blood relation," revealing the abrupt logical gap within.

What was Secretary Shen Hai's rank?

He was the top leader stationed at the economic heart of China.

And the reason the Shanghai Shen Family had been able to sit securely on the sidelines for so many years relied on an ironclad rule known to everyone in both political and business circles.

They never entered the arena to get involved in any specific commercial interest disputes, maintaining absolute neutrality and fairness.

A top-tier power clan with strict rules, cherishing its reputation to an almost harsh degree.

How could it be possible that, merely because of a piece of heavy industry technology still in the testing phase,

they would cross all security perimeters and hand over their private encrypted line to a twenty-year-old college sophomore with no background?

This was not some equivalent commercial exchange at all.

Shen Du lowered his eyelids slightly, shifting his gaze away from the rough wood grain.

Under that cold negotiating table of power, it turned out that a "Get Out of Jail Free" card, which he had been completely unaware of, had long been tucked away.

Following this newly locked logical chain, he continued to deduce further upward.

Another capital flow, massive enough to change the landscape of the industry, also completed its closed loop in Shen Du's mind.

The Governor of the Central Bank, Shen Che.

One year ago at Yushan Laboratory.

That grand steward who held the purse strings of all of China.

Had merely glanced a few times at the Cold Etching Machine that was just beginning to take shape inside, through the glass curtain wall of the clean room.

Immediately after, a full ten billion in overseas special funds.

With an efficiency that completely defied financial common sense and could even be called barbaric, it pierced through layers of regulatory barriers and slammed into Jiyuan Technology's offshore account.

Shen Du's thumb unconsciously rubbed against the side of the coarse ceramic cup.

As a trader who had been fighting in the deep waters of capital for years, he knew the ironclad rules of the domestic financial system better than anyone.

For a private enterprise.

Even if they held the most cutting-edge, disruptive technology in their hands.

To accept such ten-billion-scale national-level funds, one would inevitably face months of rigorous political vetting that would strip away almost all of one's background secrets.

Layer upon layer of due diligence and comprehensive risk penetration meant there was absolutely no shortcut to take.

But when those ten billion came in, all verification procedures had been forcibly skipped.

What made the muscles in Shen Du's back tighten even more was the attitude of the Shen Family over these past few years.

In order to quickly unite those old-established financial magnates in Shanghai to resist foreign capital.

He had used the ethereal banner of being the "Eldest Young Master of the Shen Family" to grandiosely leverage their influence and set up his schemes.

According to the rules of top-tier power clans, which were extremely harsh regarding reputation.

Such presumptuous behavior should have long ago invited a devastating crackdown.

But from beginning to end.

Whether it was Secretary Shen Hai or the Shen Family compound, they had all displayed a suffocating silence.

No matter how big a storm he stirred up on the Bund, no core figure had come forward to reprimand him or offer a single word of clarification.

In the strictly regulated arena of power, this absolute silence was, in itself, the highest form of tacit approval and endorsement.

All the irrationalities were completely connected in this instant.

Shen Du's tense back muscles slowly relaxed, and his body leaned back into the old fabric sofa.

The brief tremor in his deep pupils had already been quickly covered and suppressed by a cold light of reason.

That made sense.

His barbaric expansion strategy in Shanghai had moved the cheese of countless local bullies.

He had even reached his hand directly into the sensitive plates of telecommunications and foreign capital.

According to the normal domestic business ecosystem.

Even if his methods were brilliant, he absolutely could not have avoided official reprimands or the joint pressure from various regulatory departments.

But in reality.

Even at the most aggressive time of Jiyuan Technology's expansion, the attitude from the official level had been a bizarre "green light all the way."

It turned out that the top-tier protective umbrella, capable of shielding him from the sky, had long been silently held over his head.

"Is that so? So that's how it is."

Shen Du picked up the cup of wild tea in front of him, which had already gone lukewarm, and took a gentle sip.

The bitter taste of herbs slowly spread at the root of his tongue, and his tone was as steady as if he were reading a dull merger report:

"No wonder that ever since I established a foothold by the Huangpu River.

Whether it was approving land plots or obtaining licenses, no one dared to openly place any obstacles in my way."

He set the coarse ceramic cup back on the coffee table with moderate force, making a dull clinking sound.

When he raised his head again.

There was no excitement or fanaticism in Shen Du's eyes upon learning of his illustrious family background.

Only a clarity that pointed straight to the core.

He looked at the woman before him, who had toiled for half her life and whose hands were covered with calluses, and threw out the most fatal question.

"Since that is a family that can cover the sky with one hand in this country, and since they can give these heaven-defying privileges without reservation..."

Shen Du leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his dark gray suit pulling into several cold wrinkles with the movement:

"Then Mom, what actually happened back then?

That made you willing to hide your identity and struggle in this village for twenty years, and absolutely refuse to take me back to the Shen Family to acknowledge our roots?"

In the cramped living room of the old house, the air seemed to be instantly drained away with Shen Du's question.

Wang Hanmei's hands, which were folded on her knees, abruptly froze.

Her originally steady breathing rhythm showed a trace of imperceptible disorder.

Her rough fingertips turned a bloodless, deathly white at the edges as she dug them hard into the fabric of her trouser seam.

In Shen Du's sharp eyes, which were accustomed to capturing every flaw of his opponents at the commercial negotiation table.

His mother's physiological reaction at this moment was no different from being precisely struck by a blunt object on an old wound deep in her heart.

The dim incandescent light shone on Wang Hanmei's profile.

Illuminating the wrinkles carved by time and the rough rural wind and sand, making them look as deep as ravines.

After a full ten seconds of dead silence, she slowly loosened her tightly clenched fingers.

But she did not pick up on Shen Du's line of questioning, nor did she uncover that tragic past completely drowned by blood and power.

Those things regarding how Shen Du's father fell in Shen Che's troops.

And the taboo details of how the family had forced her to sever ties with the most ruthless methods back then,

Were swallowed back into her stomach, along with that mouthful of bitter wild tea.

"This is a private matter between your father and me."

Wang Hanmei lowered her eyelids, forcibly avoiding her son's highly penetrating gaze.

Her voice was as dry as if it had been polished on sandpaper, yet it carried a resistance that was almost like an iron wall:

"Old accounts and forgotten grudges; there is no proof left for the dead.

You don't need to know, and there is no need to get to the bottom of it."

Afterward, she raised her head again.

In those somewhat cloudy eyes, the forbearance of a rural woman faded away,

Leaving only the reason and indifference of someone born into a powerful clan:

"You only need to be clear about one thing.

You were originally supposed to take your father's surname, Wang.

But before he left back then, he used his last breath to insist that when you were registered, your surname be changed to 'Shen'."

Wang Hanmei's voice echoed in the quiet old house, every word drawing blood:

"He knew he couldn't give you any protection.

So he was calculating until his death, forcing you to be tightly bound to that high-walled compound with this 'Shen' character.

This is the final protective amulet he left for you with his life."

Before Shen Du could fully digest this conclusion, which carried a tone of absolute finality.

Wang Hanmei's tone forcibly shifted.

On her face, filled with the marks of time, appeared a cold hardness belonging to a top-tier power clan, which was completely out of place with the rural adobe house.

"So, don't think that your smooth sailing in Shanghai is some kind of charity falling from the sky."

Wang Hanmei's voice sounded exceptionally clear in the cramped space:

"You are the nephew of the Shen Family; it is only natural that Shen Che and Secretary Shen Hai are paving the way for you and protecting your market position in the shadows.

Even that old man who sits high above—the protection he gives you is something you deserve!"

She stared at Shen Du's eyes, which were struggling to suppress their fluctuations.

Without warning, she threw out the last bombshell of the night, one that was enough to completely shatter the cognitive barriers Shen Du had built over two lifetimes:

"What do you think gave you the right to go to university in Shanghai so smoothly in this lifetime?"

Wang Hanmei's withered lips moved, spitting out the coldest truth:

"If it hadn't been for that old man personally tampering with your school records in the dark back then.

Do you think that with our family's background, you would have had the qualifications to step even half a step out of these mountains in this life?"

The living room of the old house fell into complete, dead silence.

Shen Du sat on the sofa, his breathing stopping at this moment.

Having lived two lives, whether facing the joint strangulation of hundreds of billions in foreign capital or the pressure from the Beijing Circle businessmen.

His brain, as precise as a supercomputer, had never experienced even a half-second of downtime.

He was accustomed to controlling everything, accustomed to holding all variables and trump cards tightly in his own hands.

But at this moment.

Facing this massive stream of information that came one after another, completely exceeding his calculation authority.

His logical chain, which he took pride in, encountered its first serious overload.

The breakthrough he thought he had achieved step by step.

The self-made success he took pride in.

Turned out, from the very beginning, to have been placed on a sandtable that others had long ago built for him.

Shen Du stood up.

The hem of his dark gray suit cut a cold arc under the dim light.

He did not reach for the cup of wild tea that had completely cooled down, nor did he ask another word.

He ripped off his tie with one hand, turned directly, and strode toward the west wing room at the end of the first-floor corridor.

"Bang."

The old wooden door was slammed shut behind him.

The rusty door lock made a harsh friction sound.

Cutting off the dim light of the living room, along with this earth-shattering, completely out-of-control situation, and isolating it outside the door.