595: Chapter 59 Giving Up the Struggle

The choice he now faced was even crueler than the one he had just offered Shen Yan.

To agree meant cutting off his own flesh to feed the wolf, forever placing himself under someone else's control.

To refuse meant the company would immediately collapse, and his foundation of decades would be destroyed in an instant.

He had no choice.

That young man hadn't given him any choice at all.

Everyone present could sense that something was wrong.

Zheng Tianxiao's face had turned deathly pale.

The hand holding the wine glass trembled slightly.

The once arrogant local emperor now looked like a rooster that had lost a fight.

He looked at Shen Yan.

His lips moved a few times.

He couldn't utter a single word.

Shen Yan didn't look at him again.

He drank the wine in his cup in one gulp.

Then, he gently placed the empty glass onto the waiter's tray.

He turned and walked toward the door.

No one stopped him.

Everyone subconsciously made way for him.

There was no longer any contempt in their gazes.

Only reverence and fear remained.

Shen Yan reached the door.

His steps paused.

He turned back and glanced at the ashen-faced Zheng Tianxiao.

"Old Zheng, take some time to consider it."

"My patience isn't very good."

After speaking, he stepped out.

His figure disappeared outside the door.

Inside the Cloud Soaring Pavilion, there was a deathly silence.

After a long while, someone gasped sharply.

They looked at the distraught Zheng Tianxiao.

Then they thought of the young man's retreating back.

Only one thought remained in their minds:

The heavens of Hong Kong City were truly about to change.

A fierce dragon had arrived, crossing the river.

The silence in the Cloud Soaring Pavilion pressed down on everyone's hearts like a heavy piece of lead.

Zheng Tianxiao left.

No one bid him farewell.

The entourage that accompanied him upon arrival had vanished.

Only he remained, supported by an aide.

His back was hunched over significantly,

as if he had aged twenty years overnight.

The car was still the same rolls-royce phantom.

The wind on Victoria Peak couldn't penetrate the car.

Yet, Zheng Tianxiao felt cold.

A chill seeping out from the cracks in his bones.

He didn't go home.

The car paused briefly at the entrance of the hillside villa,

then started again.

It drove toward the headquarters building of the Zheng Clan.

That night, the top floor of this landmark building in Central was brightly lit.

No one knew what had happened.

They only knew that executives from the Legal Department, the North America Marketing Department, and Ocean Shipping of the Zheng Clan were woken up from their sleep by Zheng Tianxiao's calls for an emergency meeting.

The atmosphere was oppressive.

Zheng Tianxiao only asked one thing:

Were there any problems with the North America shipping routes?

Everyone thumped their chests, guaranteeing that everything was foolproof.

The shipping records were flawless.

Their connections with the North America Maritime Alliance were rock solid.

Zheng Tianxiao didn't believe them.

He saw the evasiveness in their eyes.

Having been a formidable figure his whole life, he understood human nature best.

An hour later, he mobilized the deepest piece he had buried in North America:

an old friend holding a high position in the Maritime Alliance.

The call connected.

There was a long silence on the other end.

Finally, only one sentence was spoken:

"Old Zheng, look out for yourself."

The call ended.

In the conference room, the purple clay teapot in Zheng Tianxiao's hand slipped.

It shattered into pieces on the floor.

The executives in the room were struck dumb with fear.

They looked at Zheng Tianxiao's pale face.

For the first time, they saw fear on this man's face.

That young man, Shen Yan,

what he said was true.

The storm was truly coming.

Over the next twenty-four hours,

Zheng Tianxiao exhausted all his connections,

money,

power,

threats,

and promises.

Everything vanished without a trace.

He tried to find Shen Yan,

but discovered the man had vanished as if evaporated from the earth.

No entry records could be found.

No itinerary information could be traced.

Hong Kong City was his territory,

yet he couldn't find a single outsider.

This feeling of losing control terrified him even more than the impending sanctions.

He was like a drowning man,

seeing not a single straw to grasp.

Time passed second by second.

The seventy-two hours Shen Yan mentioned were drawing closer.

The group's stock price remained high.

The media still showed an atmosphere of peace and prosperity.

Only Zheng Tianxiao knew:

beneath his feet was already a bottomless cliff.

Only one day remained.

Zheng Tianxiao gave up struggling.

He dismissed everyone.

He sat alone in his empty office,

gazing out at Victoria Harbour.

That sea, once the source of his wealth,

had now become the grave that would bury him.

His private phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number.

He answered.

There was no sound from the other end.

Only a text message was sent over.

It contained an address:

Kowloon, Peninsula Hotel, Presidential Suite.

Zheng Tianxiao knew.

It was Shen Yan.

The final judgment had arrived.

He didn't bring a lawyer.

He didn't bring bodyguards.

Alone, he changed into the most ordinary clothes,

and walked out of the Zheng Clan building.

He looked like a pilgrim going to worship.

The doorman at the Peninsula Hotel recognized every celebrity in Hong Kong City.

He failed to recognize the haggard man before him

as the spirited Zheng Tianxiao seen on television.

Zheng Tianxiao stated the room number.

A professional smile appeared on the doorman's face.

He was led to the top floor.

The private elevator moved quickly.

But Zheng Tianxiao felt like a century had passed.

The suite door was open.

A young man in casual clothes was standing by the huge floor-to-ceiling window,

his back to him.

It was Shen Yan.

At his feet, Youyou was using building blocks to construct a castle.

Shen Ya watched gently from the side.

A faint aroma of coffee drifted in the air,

accompanied by the sound of a child's silvery laughter.

This place didn't resemble a negotiation table.

It was more like a typical family weekend.

Zheng Tianxiao's appearance shattered this tranquility.

Youyou looked at him curiously.

Shen Ya stood up and nodded slightly toward Zheng Tianxiao.

Then, she took Youyou's hand and walked into the inner bedroom,

leaving the space for the two men.

Shen Yan turned around.

He didn't look at Zheng Tianxiao.

Instead, he walked to the sofa, sat down,

and poured himself a glass of water.

Throughout the entire process, not a single word was spoken.

Zheng Tianxiao stood there,

at a loss.

In his lifetime of command, he had never felt so humiliated.

He took a document from his briefcase,

and handed it over with both hands.

"Mr. Shen,"

his voice was hoarse and dry.

"This is the extent of my sincerity."

The document contained a transfer agreement for a thirty percent non-voting stake in Ocean Shipping.

It was a gratuitous transfer.

He had even prepared the other twenty percent.

As long as Shen Yan asked, he was willing to trade half his fortune for a chance to live.

Shen Yan didn't take it.

His gaze fell upon the document.

Then, he shook his head.

Zheng Tianxiao's heart sank to the bottom.

He didn't want it?

What exactly did he want?

Shen Yan picked up another, thinner document from the nearby coffee table,

and pushed it over.

"Look at this."

Zheng Tianxiao's hands trembled slightly.

He picked up that document.

The cover only had a few words:

"Asset Acquisition Intent Letter."

He flipped open the first page.

His pupils contracted sharply.

This wasn't cooperation.

This was a takeover.

What Shen Yan wanted wasn't shares in Ocean Shipping.

He wanted the entire Ocean Shipping.