252: Chapter 252 The Arrogance of a Meritorious Official

The next morning at 9:00 AM. Huihuang Group Headquarters, Meeting Room No. 1.

Both sides of the long conference table were filled with executives from the group's various business divisions.

Chen Muyang sat at the head of the table. A PPT showcasing next year's strategic planning was displayed on the large screen.

"The traditional warehousing and logistics business has serious personnel redundancy and has suffered consecutive years of losses." Chen Muyang crossed his hands on the table, his tone steady. "In the first quarter of next year, we will fully launch a digital transformation. We will shut down three inefficient distribution centers and streamline the personnel structure. All logistics data will be integrated into the Pangu System Computing Center for unified scheduling."

As soon as he finished speaking.

*Bang!*

A loud noise echoed.

Old Zhao, sitting in the first seat on the left, slammed his palm onto the solid wood tabletop. The thermos in front of him was knocked over, and tea spilled across the table.

The entire meeting room fell into a dead silence. All the executives lowered their heads, not even daring to breathe loudly.

"Digital transformation? Sounds so nice!" Old Zhao stood up and pointed at the PPT on the large screen. "Do you understand what it means to run a route? Do you know how to deal with those local tyrants on the ground? Can cold data handle fleets and warehouses for you?"

Chen Muyang didn't respond, simply looking at Old Zhao.

"When the brothers under me were following Chairman Chen across the country to build this empire, you were still wearing split-seat pants!" Old Zhao's voice grew louder and louder, his finger nearly poking Chen Muyang's face. "Now that the group has money and is doing high-tech, you think us 'muddy-legs' eat too much? You think we're holding you back?"

"Vice President Zhao," Chen Muyang spoke up, "data doesn't lie. The Traditional Logistics Department's net profit last year was negative three billion. The group cannot keep using profits from high-tech industries to fill this bottomless pit."

Old Zhao sneered.

"Using data to pressure me?" Old Zhao grabbed the thermos on the table and smashed it violently onto the floor.

The glass liner shattered everywhere, and tea leaves splattered onto the nearby carpet.

"I'm laying it out right here today! You won't touch a single person from the logistics department!" Old Zhao yanked at his suit tie. "Thinking of burning the bridge after crossing it? You're still a bit too green, you wet-behind-the-ears brat!"

After saying that, Old Zhao pulled back his chair and walked out of the meeting room without looking back. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang.

Several subsidiary general managers who had been promoted by Old Zhao looked at each other, but none spoke up. Old Zhao's roots within the group were too deep, and the interests involved were complex and intertwined. Forcing layoffs could easily trigger a collective strike.

"That's all for today's meeting." Chen Muyang stood up. "Everyone, go back and prepare your performance reports."

The executives felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted and quickly packed their things to leave.

10:00 PM. Top floor of the headquarters, Chairman's Office.

Chen Muyang sat behind his desk. A thick stack of financial reports lay before him.

They were all the messy accounts of the Traditional Logistics Department from the past few years. Falsified fuel costs, fictitious outsourced fleets, and kickbacks from using inferior goods. The accounts were riddled with holes.

Chen Muyang pinched the bridge of his nose. The tumor had to be removed, but the knife couldn't be used recklessly. Old Zhao had, after all, saved his father's life; handling it too harshly would alienate the group's other veteran officials.

The office door opened.

Lin Wanqiu walked in carrying a thermal container. She placed it on the coffee table, unscrewed the lid, and poured out a bowl of preserved egg and pork congee.

"Eat something first." Lin Wanqiu brought the bowl to the desk. "You've been sitting here ever since the meeting ended."

Chen Muyang took the bowl and took a sip of the congee.

"Is it tricky?" Lin Wanqiu pulled out a chair and sat down. "Old Zhao made such a scene at the meeting today clearly to bully you for your lack of seniority. He's counting on the fact that he saved your father's life, certain you won't dare do anything to him."

"His department is rotten to the core." Chen Muyang stirred the congee in the bowl with a spoon. "Any single piece of this corruption data would be enough to put him away for several years. But I can't just hand it over to the Economic Investigation Bureau."

"Balance firmness with flexibility," Lin Wanqiu said softly. "Governing a large country is like cooking a small fish. This isn't just an audit; it's also about establishing authority. You need to let everyone see the Chen family's methods, but also let them see the Chen family's rules."

Chen Muyang finished the congee. The phone on the desk rang.

The screen showed Chen Fan's number.

Chen Muyang picked up the call.

"Come to the Courtyard House," Chen Fan said simply.

Hanging up the phone, Chen Muyang put on his coat, went downstairs, and drove directly to Dragon Bay.

The alleyway was very quiet in the dead of night.

Chen Muyang pushed open the door to the main room of the Courtyard House. Chen Fan was sitting in a grandmaster chair brewing tea.

"Dad," Chen Muyang walked over and greeted him.

"Sit." Chen Fan pointed to the chair beside him.

Chen Muyang sat down.

"Did Old Zhao slam the table at the meeting today?" Chen Fan poured a cup of tea for Chen Muyang.

"Yes. He opposes the digital transformation and has a very stubborn attitude," Chen Muyang said.

Chen Fan opened the drawer of the small square table next to him, took out a yellow kraft paper envelope, and tossed it directly in front of Chen Muyang.

"Take a look." Chen Fan picked up his teacup.

Chen Muyang opened the envelope. Inside were over a dozen photos and a stack of bank statements.

In the photos, Old Zhao was sitting in a VIP room of a top casino in Macau, with mountains of chips piled in front of him. The bank statements were all records of transfers from Huihuang Group's overseas accounts to several offshore shell companies. The timeline spanned five years.

Embezzlement of public funds and high-stakes gambling abroad. The amount was staggering.

Chen Muyang put the materials back into the envelope. These things were a hundred times more serious than the falsified fuel costs he had found.

"Old Zhao saved my life back then." Chen Fan set down his teacup. "But that doesn't mean he can cling to the Huihuang Group's veins and suck blood for the rest of his life."

Chen Muyang held the envelope.

"Dad, I understand." Chen Muyang stood up. "Tomorrow night, I'll invite him to dinner in my private capacity."

Chen Fan nodded. "Go ahead. The Chen family's ship is sailing toward the sea of stars; the rotten wood at the bottom should be replaced when it's time."

Chen Muyang walked out of the Courtyard House with the envelope.

The cold wind blew against his face. He knew clearly that after this dinner, the last stumbling block within Huihuang Group would be completely leveled.

Chen Muyang took out his phone and dialed Old Zhao's number.

The phone rang five times before it was picked up.

"Hello." Old Zhao's voice sounded very impatient.

"Uncle Zhao, it's Muyang." Chen Muyang's tone was calm. "Are you free tomorrow night? Let's have a simple meal at Changan Club. We'll just talk about our relationship, not business."

There was silence on the other end for two seconds.

"Fine. You make the arrangements." After saying that, Old Zhao hung up directly.

Chen Muyang looked at the darkening phone screen. Tomorrow night's dinner would surely decide the outcome.