69: Chapter 69 The Deal Beneath the Clouds!

Six o'clock in the evening, Cloud Top Private Club, the Heaven Suite.

The lighting was a carefully adjusted warm gold, shining on the expensive redwood tabletop and reflecting Long Zaitian's expressionless face. He sat in the master seat, his fingertips resting on the slender stem of a goblet, the red wine inside as still as blood.

Half an hour ago, he had just received the news—Scar's gang had all fallen. Twenty-seven of them, not a single one left out; they were likely at the station right now giving their statements one by one.

Although his assistant had vowed that Scar wouldn't talk—saying the kid's old mother was in a nursing home controlled by the Long family and that he knew what was at stake—failure was still failure. It was like an invisible slap across Third Young Master's face, burning with pain.

He picked up the wine glass and took a sip. It was good wine, but at this moment, he couldn't taste its flavor.

The door to the private room was pushed open.

Zhao Qiming walked in. In his early fifties, he was well-maintained, wearing a well-fitted navy blue suit with his hair meticulously combed. His face wore the kind of standard smile cultivated from years in government circles—gentle, appropriate, and watertight.

“President Long.” Zhao Qiming smiled and extended his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Not at all, Director Zhao, I just arrived as well.” Long Zaitian stood up and warmly shook the other man's hand with just the right amount of pressure. “Please, take a seat. It must have been a long trip.”

The two sat down, and a waiter silently stepped forward to pour tea. It was top-grade Jin Jun Mei; the tea was a bright orange-red, with a lingering aroma.

The opening was the usual pleasantries. Long Zaitian kept a smile on his face throughout; the two were like people wearing masks, agreeing on the surface while each had their own calculations in mind.

After three rounds of drinks, the several exquisite signature dishes on the table were half-eaten.

Long Zaitian set down his chopsticks, picked up a hot towel to leisurely wipe his hands, and then looked up at Zhao Qiming. The smile on his face faded slightly, replaced by the focus of someone discussing serious business.

“Director Zhao, we are old friends, so I won't waste time with pleasantries. The order for the xuanyuan phase one insulation tiles—the Long Group must have it.”

Zhao Qiming also put down his chopsticks and picked up his teacup, but he didn't drink. He simply rubbed the warm ceramic with his fingertips. He sighed, a sigh that carried just the right amount of difficulty.

“President Long, I am well aware of your strength.” He looked up, his gaze meeting Long Zaitian's. “But this time... the samples sent by Star of Fortune have truly impressive data. You know Engineer Fu; he’s a technical hardhead who won't tolerate any flaws. After reading the test report, he said these exact words at the institute's technical review meeting in front of everyone—'The material performance of Star of Fortune completely surpasses our existing suppliers.'”

Long Zaitian's fingers gripping the wine glass tightened imperceptibly for a moment.

“Fu Dong... really said that?” he asked, his voice remaining steady, though its temperature dropped a few degrees.

“Word for word.” Zhao Qiming nodded with a helpless expression. “And not just him; several young technical backbones in the institute also nodded along after seeing the data. You know how young people are, easily attracted by new technology and concepts.”

“Engineer Fu is an expert, and I respect his professional judgment.” Long Zaitian leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them, his voice dropping lower. “But Director Zhao, you understand better than I do that for a key national project, one can never just consider cold performance parameters. Is the supply chain stable? Is the corporate background clean? Is there any shadow of foreign capital? Can the long-term cooperation be trusted? All of these require a comprehensive evaluation and time to verify.”

He paused, then changed his tone significantly: “I heard that Engineer Fu is very fond of that young man from Star of Fortune named Chen Fan and has praised him quite a bit in private. Technical passion in youth is a good thing. But sometimes... it's easy to be emotional and let personal likes and dislikes bleed into professional judgment. That wouldn't be quite appropriate, would it?”

Zhao Qiming didn't respond. He simply raised his teacup to his lips and took a slow sip. The rising steam from the tea temporarily obscured the look in his eyes behind his glasses.

Long Zaitian knew the timing was just about right.

He set down his wine glass and reached into the inner pocket of his suit with calm deliberation. He pulled out two plain white envelopes with no markings, their thicknesses vastly different. Using two fingers, he gently pushed the envelopes across the tablecloth toward Zhao Qiming.

“Director Zhao,” his voice was as soft as a whisper, yet every word was crystal clear, “a small token of my appreciation, nothing much.”

He first pointed to the thinner envelope: “This is a private letter of recommendation from a board member at the University of Sydney. For your son's studies abroad, this letter... should be of some help.”

Zhao Qiming's gaze fell on the envelope, his finger unconsciously tracing a line on the tablecloth.

Long Zaitian then pointed to the significantly thicker envelope, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “This Swiss bank card has six million on it. The password is your son's birthday. Young people have many expenses when they are away from home. Consider it a bit of pocket money from an elder to help him focus on his studies without being distracted by mundane affairs.”

Zhao Qiming's Adam's apple bobbed almost imperceptibly. He picked up his now lukewarm tea and took a large gulp, as if trying to suppress a sudden dryness in his throat.

“President Long...” his voice sounded a bit tight, “this... this is too much. It's not appropriate.”

Despite his words, his gaze was stuck to the two envelopes like a magnet, especially the thick one.

“Director Zhao, you're being too formal.” The smile on Long Zaitian's face deepened, appearing incredibly sincere.

“You have worked diligently for the country and the institute for so many years, achieving great things. Taking care of your family and resolving some of your worries is the least we, as enterprises benefiting from national policy, should do. It’s our duty and our sentiment.”

As he spoke, he naturally reached out—not to take the envelopes back, but to pick up the leather briefcase Zhao Qiming had placed casually on the table. He unzipped it, steadily placed the two envelopes inside, zipped it back up, and pushed the bag back to Zhao Qiming's hand.

The entire sequence of movements was as smooth as flowing water, as natural as if he were simply passing an item to a friend.

The fingers of Zhao Qiming's hand resting on his knee curled slightly. He glanced at the briefcase, then quickly looked away. In the end, he said nothing. Only his slightly furrowed brow betrayed a hint of struggle, but it was soon covered by something deeper.

Silence spread through the luxurious private room for a few seconds, broken only by the extremely faint hum of the central air conditioning.

When Zhao Qiming spoke again, his voice had recovered its usual stability, though the topic shifted abruptly. “However, President Long, Engineer Fu's side... is indeed a problem. If he keeps speaking up for Star of Fortune like this, it will influence many people's judgment at the institute's review meetings, making work very difficult to carry out.”

Long Zaitian leaned back slightly in a listening posture, his brow furrowing in cooperation. “Oh? What brilliant idea do you have, Director Zhao?”

Zhao Qiming pondered for a moment as if thinking seriously before slowly saying, “Engineer Fu's technical ability is top-tier in the institute; there is no doubt about that. I heard that the Northwest Base has a key project with a very high security clearance that is currently lacking a top expert like him who has both theoretical depth and engineering experience. I think... having him go to support them for a while would not only solve their urgent need but also broaden Engineer Fu's horizons by letting him touch more cutting-edge things. It would be good for his personal development as well.”

“Support them for how long?” Long Zaitian asked, his eyes focused.

“At least... half a year.” Zhao Qiming gave a clear timeframe. “I can arrange the transfer order as soon as I get to work tomorrow.”

The gloom in Long Zaitian's eyes finally dissipated, revealing a genuine smile. He raised his wine glass again, the red wine within rippling with an enticing luster under the lights.

“Director Zhao, you always consider things so thoroughly and appropriately.” His tone was full of admiration. “Come, let me toast you. I wish Engineer Fu a bright future in the Northwest.”

The two wine glasses clinked gently in the air with a crisp 'ding'.

As the liquid went down his throat, Long Zaitian felt the frustration that had been clogging his chest finally ease a little.

Setting down his glass, Zhao Qiming seemed to suddenly remember something and said in a conversational tone, “By the way, President Long, there's one more thing. The test data for that batch of Star of Fortune samples is now widely circulated in the institute's technical department; many people have seen it. Just transferring Engineer Fu alone... I'm afraid it won't shut everyone up.”

“As for that...” Long Zaitian picked up a napkin and elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth, his smile becoming deep and cold. “Director Zhao can rest easy. Star of Fortune... won't be jumping around for much longer.”

He paused, his voice dropping. “I've heard some rumors that their factory has quite a few 'legacy issues' regarding environmental emissions and production safety regulations. Perhaps very soon, relevant functional departments will pay them a 'comprehensive and detailed' visit for inspection. Once an enterprise is targeted by such inspections, they'll likely be overwhelmed for a while. How could they have the energy to worry about orders then, don't you think?”

The light in Zhao Qiming's eyes flickered behind his lenses. He naturally understood the meaning—with the Long Corporation's power, there were plenty of ways to crush an enterprise like Star of Fortune.

He nodded, his expression serious. “Compliant operations and production safety are indeed the lifeblood of an enterprise; one cannot be careless.”

“Yes, the bottom line cannot be crossed.” Long Zaitian echoed, pouring himself another small half-glass of wine. Swirling the glass, his tone became meaningful. “Oh, one more thing, just a casual mention. I heard that Chen Fan from Star of Fortune is young and aggressive, acting rather... brashly. To seize the market, he has offended many peers and caused quite a headache for some management departments. Given your special status, Director Zhao, it would be best if you... kept some distance and drew a clear line when dealing with him. Avoid being caught in the crossfire when the city gate catches fire.”

These words were a naked threat and warning—if Zhao Qiming dared to play both sides or secretly help Star of Fortune, the Long family wouldn't mind dragging him into the muddy water as well.

The muscles on Zhao Qiming's face twitched almost imperceptibly, and his standardized smile nearly broke. He quickly picked up his teacup, using the action of drinking to hide that momentary stiffness.

“Thank you for the reminder, President Long.” When he set down the teacup, his smile was welded back onto his face. “I will be careful, definitely careful.”

The dinner continued for about another two hours, the atmosphere becoming 'warm' and 'harmonious' once again. The two settled on a time to meet again next week, and Zhao Qiming rose to take his leave.

Long Zaitian personally saw him to the club entrance. Watching the black Audi A6L disappear into the night, the warm smile on his face vanished like a receding tide, leaving only a cold indifference.

His assistant emerged from behind a pillar in the porch like a shadow, silently walking to his side.

“Third Young Master,” the assistant's voice was extremely low, “he took the items without further refusal. Fu Dong's transfer order will be issued first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Mm.” Long Zaitian let out a hum from his nose and turned to walk back into the club, his pace unhurried. “But that's not enough. Transferring one Fu Dong can only temporarily silence Star of Fortune and buy some time. What I want is for them to be completely out of the game, never to rise again.”

“Notify those people we keep on retainer,” his voice was calm, yet every word was laced with frost. “Prepare all the materials we have on Star of Fortune. Before the sun rises tomorrow, I want to see environmental protection, safety supervision, fire safety, labor inspection... every department you can think of queuing up to 'visit' Star of Fortune. The reasons must be legitimate and the procedures compliant, but the inspections... can be particularly 'thorough'.”

What he wanted was this 'dull knife cutting meat' effect. He wanted Chen Fan to be exhausted from dealing with various inspections, rectifications, and interviews, draining his time, energy, and patience until he had no room to care about anything else.

“Yes.” The assistant immediately noted it down, then reported another matter. “Scar and the others' families have been properly appeased; the money they were promised was paid in full. News from the lawyer says Scar is taking everything on himself inside, saying he just didn't like the look of Star of Fortune and wanted to make a quick buck, and that it had nothing to do with anyone else.”

A look of what could be considered satisfaction finally appeared on Long Zaitian's face, though it was faint.

Scar, that dog, wasn't raised for nothing after all. He knew what to say and what not to say.

His old mother was enjoying her golden years in a top-tier nursing home controlled by the Long family. If he dared to bite back, those comforts could turn into a death warrant in an instant.

“Tell the lawyer to suppress his sentence to the absolute minimum, regardless of the cost.” Long Zaitian instructed. “Additionally, send someone in the name of a 'company condolence' to give Scar's mother another stipend. Let his family know that by following the Long family, even if things go wrong temporarily, their family will be taken care of and their future will be secure.”

A slap followed by an even sweeter date. This was his infallible method for managing his subordinates. He had to make them afraid, but also let them see the tangible benefits of 'loyalty'.

The assistant acknowledged each point, then asked, “Third Young Master, then... will the 'Melting Pot Project' continue?”

Long Zaitian didn't answer immediately. He stood by the window, his back straight, yet shrouded in an invisible layer of malevolence. The window glass reflected his current face—expressionless, but his eyes were as dark and oppressive as the night sky before a storm.

After a long time, he finally spoke, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible, yet carrying an ironclad determination:

“Continue.”

“And, move it ahead of schedule.”