235: Chapter 236 The Triumphant Triumph of a Trillion-Dollar Empire: The Uninvited Visit of the National Security "Uncle" on the Sofa

Jiyuan Technology headquarters building, top floor.

As the private elevator emitted a soft "ding," the stainless steel doors slid open smoothly to both sides.

After lying dormant for nearly a month, Shen Du finally stepped back into this territory that belonged to him.

The sensor lights in the corridor lit up one by one as he walked.

When Shen Du pushed open the glass door to the open-plan office area, the moment the dull thud of his leather shoe heels hitting the carpet reached the office, the vast space, which had been filled with the sound of intensive keyboard typing and hushed conversations, experienced a brief but abrupt stillness.

Countless gazes lifted from behind computer screens, converging in unison on the young man who had just entered.

Gone was the standardized and formulaic "Good morning, President Shen" that had carried a distinct sense of class distance in the past.

The air was permeated with a unique atmosphere, a mixture of fanaticism and instinctive awe.

Those tech geeks who spent years coding and thought highly of themselves, as well as the elite executives from various departments, now looked at Shen Du with eyes that had undergone a fundamental transformation. It was an absolute filter that belonged only to looking at a "hero."

In their eyes, the man before them was the chess player who, within a month, had forcibly cut through the underlying architectural defenses that NVIDIA and Intel had spent decades building.

He was the one who forced White House to bow its head.

He was the one who dragged the entire nation's semiconductor industry out of the mire and pushed it onto the world stage.

This objective achievement, which could not be measured by worldly money or stock options, meant that from the very second Shen Du stepped through that door, he had completely transformed into an unquestionable totem within this business empire whose total market value was approaching a trillion.

Shen Du ignored the scorching gazes from the outside, walking straight to the door of the president's office at the end of the corridor.

He pushed open the heavy double-leaf solid wood door with one hand.

His right index finger, which had been about to unbutton his suit jacket, suddenly froze in mid-air the moment he crossed the threshold.

On the wide, soft, pure black Italian leather sofa sat a man who looked completely out of place in this office.

The man wore a well-tailored dark suit on his upper body, but his long legs were sprawled carelessly across the edge of the expensive glass coffee table.

On his feet, he was wearing heavy motorcycle tactical boots with soles still stained with bits of dried mud.

At this moment, the man was unceremoniously holding a bottle of ordinary ice wine he had rummaged from Shen Du's private mini-fridge, pouring it casually into a transparent glass.

Hearing the dull sound of the door being pushed open, the man stopped his movements and turned his head.

He looked at Shen Du standing at the door and grinned, revealing a smile that looked gentle on the surface but was permeated with a strong, wild, and aggressive nature at its core.

"Ministry of State Security, Shen Hong." The man didn't move from his seat, just casually raised the half-glass of chilled ice wine in his hand: "Pardon the intrusion."

Shen Du's hand, which had already quietly dropped and was ready to press the silent security alarm on the side of the door access panel at any moment, froze in mid-air for half a second.

Upon hearing the "Ministry of State Security" designation and that special "Shen" surname in Shanghai, Shen Du's brain completed a basic logical assessment in a flash.

Subsequently, the muscles in his shoulders, neck, and back, which had been as tense as a bowstring, slowly relaxed bit by bit beneath his suit fabric.

Shen Hong tilted his head back, swallowed the bland-tasting ice wine in the glass, and then stood up.

He strode over to Shen Du with his long legs in tactical boots, reached out, and patted the other man's crisp suit shoulder casually.

His eyes, hidden in the shadows of his brow bone, carried a seasoned and sharp scrutiny.

Even though he had seen all kinds of power players, a sense of absurd dislocation couldn't help but flash in Shen Hong's eyes.

The absolute decision-maker who had just smashed through the Western technological wall for the entire country, holding a near-unicorn enterprise with a total market value approaching a trillion, had, after ending nearly a month of imprisonment, done his first thing: clocking in for work on time like an ordinary bottom-rung corporate slave.

Facing Shen Hong's obviously aggressive scrutiny, Shen Du didn't bother to engage with the man's seemingly gentle pleasantries.

He took off his suit jacket without a word and hung it on the solid wood coat rack behind the door.

He tossed his briefcase onto the office desk and walked straight to the mahogany temperature-controlled wine cabinet beside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He pulled open the glass cabinet door.

He ignored the everyday wines and accurately pulled out a bottle of single malt Macallan with an excellent vintage.

"Clink." Two pieces of old ice, picked up with stainless steel ice tongs, were dropped into the bottom of the crystal glass, striking it with an extremely crisp sound.

Shen Du poured a layer of amber base wine for him again, carried the glass back to the coffee table, and handed it over.

Accompanied by the faint sound of ice cubes rubbing against the glass wall, Shen Du didn't beat around the bush and took the initiative to get to the main point: "The carpet-style reshuffle in the political and business circles of Shanghai these past two days must have had your hand in it."

Shen Du's deep gaze fell on the swirling liquor, his tone revealing the absolute rationality of a pure businessman: "If it was just to quell the online public opinion directed at me, there was really no need to be so ruthless. This kind of action attracts too much hatred."

Shen Hong reached out to take the Macallan, throwing his tall body back into the soft leather sofa.

He lowered his gaze, exerting a slight force on his wrist, and gently swirled the crystal glass in his hand.

Watching the amber liquid create tiny whirlpools around the edge of the old ice, Shen Hong mercilessly punctured Shen Du's logical illusion as a pure businessman.

"You overestimate the value of so-called public opinion." Shen Hong's voice was low, revealing a coldness born from years of immersion in the machinery of power: "That purge wasn't to vent your personal anger, nor did it care about that bullshit online commentary. It was because someone was stupid enough to touch the old man's bottom line at this critical juncture."

The logic of power operation is forever stripped of warmth.

This was just a cruel display of authority that had to bare its fangs and muscles to those in lower positions.

It wasn't entirely to protect any specific descendant.

Shen Hong took a sip of the wine, letting the spicy and mellow liquid slide down his throat: "You only need to know the general idea of the deep waters behind this matter for now."

Just as Shen Du remained silent, digesting the cold power dynamics behind these words, Shen Hong stopped swirling his glass without warning and suddenly lifted his eyelids.

Those eyes, which had previously seemed easygoing, instantly shed all their disguises and locked firmly onto Shen Du's pupils.

"By the way." Shen Hong's tone was breezy, but he dropped a bombshell: "Regarding your own true identity, you should have guessed it long ago, right?"

Shen Du's fingers, holding the wine glass, tightened uncontrollably.

The movement, which had been intended to bring the glass to his lips, froze visibly in mid-air for half a second.

Watching the fleeting gravity and vigilance in Shen Du's eyes, Shen Hong had no intention of beating around the bush and directly flipped the bottom card, slamming it onto the coffee table.

"It seems you already knew." The corner of Shen Hong's mouth curled back into that arc, his tone as casual as if he were discussing today's weather: "Then I have nothing to hide from you. I am the fourth son adopted by the Shen Family. Your mother was the third child; back then at home, she took special care of me."

The amount of information contained in these few sentences was immense.

It almost instantly tore open a corner of the vast and intricate family relationship network behind Shen Du.

But before Shen Du could even sort out his thoughts from the identity reversal, and before he could even open his mouth to utter a single word.

Shen Hong suddenly tilted his head back, his Adam's apple sliding up and down violently.

He downed the expensive Macallan whiskey in the glass, which should have been savored slowly, as if it were plain water.

"In the future, when you encounter a mess that you can't handle yourself, contact me, your Uncle, directly."

"Click!" Shen Hong slammed the empty crystal glass in his hand heavily onto the hard glass surface of the coffee table, emitting a crisp clinking sound.

The moment his voice fell, he didn't pause for even half a second, turning around decisively.

His tactical boots, stained with mud, stepped on the thick carpet as he strode toward the door.

Shen Hong pulled open the heavy double-leaf solid wood door.

His tall back merged directly into the cold light of the outer corridor and completely disappeared.

The entire movement was smooth and fluid, leaving no opportunity for Shen Du to digest the information or ask questions.

Inside the large president's office, a suffocating silence returned.

Shen Du stood alone in place, his gaze lowered.

He stared fixedly at the small empty glass on the glass coffee table, which still had a few pieces of melted ice and a trace of spicy alcohol scent, remaining silent for a long time.

The person who called himself 'Uncle' had left nothing but a string of numbers before suddenly leaving the office.