80: Chapter 80 A Feast That Shocked Everyone: The First Sect Leader's Closed-Door Banquet

June 18th, Morning.

Heavy plum rain clouds gathered over the Huangpu River, thick and damp.

Bund 18, a landmark building that has witnessed the rise and fall of a century of commerce.

Beside the brass sign on the first floor, a rare notice was posted: "Internal Equipment Maintenance, No Visitors Allowed."

All key access points around the building were taken over by security personnel in black suits.

Not a single roaring supercar drove into the underground garage.

Only black Maybach 62S, Audi A8L, and Hongqi sedans drove in smoothly along the speed bumps.

Because those arriving today were no longer the "second-generation circle" from last week.

They were the true first-generation leaders who held the highest signing authority for every industry in Shanghai.

Inside the private lounge on the top floor, the hum of the central air conditioning was clearly audible, and the atmosphere was heavy.

Facing the recent aggressive encroachment of capital from the Beijing Circle,

this group of local industrialists, who usually fought until they were red in the face over bidding for prime locations,

had rarely set aside their calculations against one another at this moment.

Everyone's gaze was intentionally or unintentionally fixed on those tightly closed bronze doors.

They had come out in full force not just because of the powerful outsiders from the north,

but because the Shen Family, which had been dormant for decades and remained silent in the business world, had finally sent out a substantial signal to assemble.

When external capital attempted to directly seize the market share and supply chains of the Yangtze River Delta,

local capital had to quickly put aside internal strife, complete resource integration, and build a defensive barrier.

This was the most basic logic of commercial self-preservation.

10:30 AM.

The dedicated elevator emitted a crisp "ding" sound.

The core figures of the first echelon appeared.

Wu Tianheng, Zhou Zhenghai, and Zhu Qingshan walked out of the lounge passage side by side.

Wu Tianheng controlled Shanghai real estate and ocean infrastructure,

Zhou Zhenghai held a massive pool of private equity and floating capital,

and Zhu Qingshan controlled a top-tier entertainment empire and a chain of ultra-luxury hotels.

Since the economic take-off of Shanghai, these three families had formed a mutually dependent and closely-knit interest loop.

This was also the underlying logic for why their sons always hung out together.

The moment the three entered, the venue, which had been buzzing with low conversation, immediately fell silent.

Shen Du watched the three big shots approaching, took a deep breath, and took the initiative to greet them.

His posture was perfectly calibrated—neither humble nor overly arrogant: "I didn't expect the three of you to arrive so early. Please forgive me for not welcoming you sooner."

Though calm on the surface, Shen Du's heart was churning violently.

According to the intelligence he had gathered, these three had long since handed over portions of their businesses to their heirs and had recently been abroad inspecting projects.

By all accounts, for such an initial closed-door meeting, they would at most send their sons to test the waters.

But he did not know that just ten hours ago in the middle of the night,

a top-secret letter stamped with the "Secretary Shen Hai" seal had been delivered to the desks of the hotels where these three were staying abroad.

Simply because of the words on the envelope, which represented the highest will of the Shen Family,

these three leaders had directly postponed their cross-border M&A meetings and caught private jets to fly back to Shanghai overnight.

Facing Shen Du's welcome, Wu Tianheng took the initiative to extend a broad, powerful palm and shook his hand firmly.

His highly perceptive eyes swept over Shen Du's young face before he proactively signaled goodwill:

"Young Master Shen is too polite.

By age, we are all considered your elders.

Since this is a private gathering today, there is no need to be so formal; just call me Uncle Wu."

With these words, he had effectively provided Shen Du with an elder's endorsement in front of the entire Shanghai Merchants circle.

Shen Du knew very well that there was no turning back.

Since the play had already begun, he had to see the unfathomable aura of the "Eldest Young Master of the Shen Family" through to the end.

He smiled slightly, naturally loosened his grip, and made a gesture of invitation: "Uncle Wu, Uncle Zhou, Uncle Zhu, please come in."

As the three core figures took their seats, the caliber of the meeting was fully elevated.

Accompanied by the dull thud of leather shoes, the second echelon entered.

Walking in the front was the burly Qin Zhengye.

As a core figure planted in Shanghai by the Beijing Circle interest group, he controlled Sheng Tang Communications and a large thermal power group.

Qin Zhengye's gaze swept across the conference table with undisguised scrutiny and aggression.

His appearance added a hint of subtle vigilance to the eyes of the local bosses.

Following closely behind was the private real estate boss Fu Zhaonan, who still carried an untamed, ruthless air.

He nodded coldly at Shen Du and walked straight to take a seat on the side of the local faction.

At 11:00 AM, the third echelon of industry titans arrived one after another.

Chen Mingyuan of Yigou Network pushed the door and entered.

Holding an iPhone 4, the look behind his gold-rimmed glasses revealed deep anxiety in the face of the mobile internet wave.

Su Yunjing of Yunjing Pharmaceuticals was dressed in a perfectly tailored, pure white haute couture suit.

Ignoring the capital standoff in the room, she walked to her seat with a cold and arrogant aura.

Finally, the heavy hitter, Li Jianfeng, head of Fengrui Heavy Industry, arrived.

His brows were tightly furrowed, clearly under pressure from external capital's forced infiltration of the manufacturing supply chain.

11:15 AM.

"Click."

The bronze doors on the top floor of Bund 18 were slowly closed and locked from the outside by black-clad security.

In this luxurious space of less than three hundred square meters,

a massive amount of capital and connections capable of influencing half of China's real economy had gathered.

The air was so quiet one could hear a pin drop, and all eyes were fixed on Shen Du at the head of the table like a physical weight.

Shen Du sat quietly in the main seat, holding a blue-and-white porcelain teacup in one hand.

His deep gaze swept across the shrewd faces around the round table without a ripple.

On the surface, he was still that high-and-mighty "Eldest Young Master of the Shen Family," not even blinking an eye.

However,

the palms of Shen Du's hands were already uncontrollably oozing a layer of fine cold sweat, his fingertips pressed tightly against the cool porcelain wall.

Something was wrong.

Reviewing the situation rapidly in his mind, he keenly sensed a strong feeling of things spiraling out of control.

According to his original precise deduction, this meeting was supposed to be just a preliminary probe.

The initial plan was to gather the "second generation" like Young Master Jie and throw the crisis at them as a "mouthpiece."

Only after the second generations returned in a panic to report back would the first-generation leaders behind the scenes evaluate and probe each other,

and finally cautiously send representatives to make contact.

That was the logical commercial flow.

But now, without any buffer period, the first-generation leaders who held the power of life and death had all personally entered the arena!

Even people like Wu Tianheng, who had been on vacation abroad, had rushed back overnight!

His own bluffing disguise could never have had this kind of mobilization power.

There must be some immense, invisible force pushing hard from behind, forcibly changing the direction of the entire chessboard.

The development of the situation had completely deviated from his original deduction.

Shen Du slowly set down the teacup.

The porcelain base made a slight muffled sound against the rosewood table.

He lifted his eyelids.

Meeting the oppressive gaze of Qin Zhengye opposite him, his left hand, hidden under the table, silently clenched the seam of his suit trousers.