"If possible, I would like to ask that we cover all the funding needed for your project."
Song Qing smiled faintly and withdrew her hand.
"The price is negotiable." He grasped her hand again, squeezing it tightly.
Song Qing lowered her head and remained silent, but her lips curled slightly upwards.
7.5%?
7.3%?
"7%!" Yi Zhengwei's voice drew closer and closer, growing increasingly oppressive.
"Okay!" She smiled and looked up, meeting his gaze, which was already on the verge of exploding.
"Ms. Song, are you free tonight?" He stepped back and sat down at his desk.
"I'll have my secretary make an appointment with you." Song Qing smiled, revealing her teeth, and turned to leave.
Yi Zhengwei remained silent, watching her departing figure. Then, a smile spread across his face.
Song Qing, this battle has only just begun.
Chapter Eleven: The So-Called Big Picture
Sister, why did you even take what I had left in the end? For ten years, you've haunted me like a ghost, making it impossible for me to escape your shadow. Years ago, all I wanted was to escape all of this, but since fate didn't kill me, I have to take responsibility for myself this time.
-Song Ning
Song Jingmo's health had greatly improved, and disregarding Madam Song's advice, upon learning that the company had not only received all the funds needed for the entire project in one go, but also that the interest rate was 0.8 percentage points lower than the market rate, and that it had fired the first shot in the industry, he rushed to Fuhua without stopping.
It wasn't that he coveted the money; what pleased him was that his daughter had not only returned to take his place, but also given him such an unexpected surprise. His joy was beyond words; he wanted the whole world to know that this was his daughter, Song Jingmo's daughter.
Fuhua's recent prosperity has made it the target of reports by major media outlets, and Song Qing has become a hot topic of discussion in high society.
When Song Qing saw her father walking briskly through the crowd with a smile on his face, she felt a deep sadness welling up inside her. She hated her own selfishness and indifference, which had alienated her from the father who had loved her for so many years.
These past few days have been filled with banquets and press conferences. Amidst the flashing lights and bustling scenes, she always felt a chilling loneliness and fear creeping over her, as if it would envelop her at any moment and deliver a fatal blow.
"Ms. Song, please contact your father and make sure he goes back to the hospital for a follow-up examination. Given his current condition, he is really not fit to continue working. I suggest you persuade him to go back to the hospital for hospitalization."
This was a phone call she received from an unfamiliar number when she came downstairs from the bank that day. The doctor's tone was very anxious and heavy.
"How did you know my phone number?" She looked up at the bright sky that had just cleared of the dark clouds, and felt as if a torrential downpour was about to begin.
"Oh, Ms. Song, your phone has always been here, but I had no choice but to call you today..."
Her nose tingled, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Mr. Song repeatedly instructed that you should not call unless absolutely necessary. But I think that if this continues, it will be very dangerous for Mr. Song, given his workload." Dr. Xu had clearly made up his mind before taking out the small piece of paper that had been placed here five years ago, on which Song Jingmo had written a phone number stroke by stroke.
Suppressing her grief, she hung up the phone, avoided Secretary Liu, and rushed into her car. In the cramped, un-air-conditioned car, she wept uncontrollably, biting her lip, sobbing silently. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, making the car feel like a sauna. Song Qing couldn't tell if the water on her face was sweat or tears; she only felt her face was completely wet. After a long while, she finally drove away at high speed.
This is why she was able to appear in front of the camera with her father and accompany him in politely dealing with various business figures.
Only in a fleeting glance back, amidst the hustle and bustle, can one occasionally capture a glimpse of her subtle, inexplicable sorrow.
"Qing'er, this is Daddy's good friend, Uncle Dong, haha, our project partner!" Song Jingmo didn't notice his daughter's unusual behavior and excitedly introduced Dong Haitao from Hanlong Manufacturing to his daughter.
"Brother Song, you're too kind. My dear niece, I went through a lot of trouble to stand out from so many competitors and be the first to get this new project." Dong Haitao politely declined and handed Song Qing a glass of wine.
"Uncle Dong." Song Qing smiled faintly, raised his glass, and leaned forward to express his gratitude.
Dong Haitao pushed up his thick glasses, squinted, and nodded with a smile. He had a very good impression of this young businesswoman. Few young people these days are as calm and composed as her; it seems she has truly inherited Song Jingmo's qualities. She is reliable and dependable, and indeed a good partner.
"My dear niece, what month is your birthday?" He gestured for Song Qing to walk away from him.
As Song Qing walked, he smiled and asked, "Uncle Dong, do you have a generous gift to give me?"
"Hehe, you could say that, but it's mainly your dad. You did a great job, you didn't let your dad's love go to waste." Dong Haitao patted her shoulder gently, his words carrying a deeper meaning.
Song Qing lowered her head, the urge to cry repeatedly surging within her. How could she have remained so focused for the past ten years? And her father, he had never given up on her, never abandoned her.
"Your father will give you the best gift."
Looking out through the transparent French windows, the soft moonlight streamed in, bringing a sense of clarity. Recalling Uncle Dong's words, she finally made up her mind.
"Qing'er." A strange smell of alcohol mixed with a familiar scent approached her, startling her.
"General Manager Yan."
Yan Xunan leaned against the wall, his tall figure slightly tipsy, and said with a wistful smile, "Qing'er, you're being too polite."
She looked away, rejecting his temptation. He knew her too well. Over the years, it wasn't just her who had grown and changed; Yan Xunan's growth seemed even faster and more powerful than hers. That carefree, slightly wickedly smiling man, often with his backpack slung across his shoulder, always made her, a girl just beginning to experience love, feel her heart race uncontrollably.
Countless times, at sunset, bathed in the slanting sunlight, he would lean back like this, his long legs slightly crossed, waiting for her atop the wall not far away. For so many years, in his dreams, this scene has never changed.
She willingly took the schoolbag he impatiently handed her, turned her head and stared at his face without blinking. Happiness bloomed like a brilliant flower, just like the blood-red sunset.
"Yes. Soon we'll be relatives." She forced herself to come to her senses and gave him a polite smile.
"Why don't you dare say it? I am your brother-in-law."
Her heart trembled, and her hand holding the cup turned white instantly. But she did not back down, continuing to look up at her, though her eyes seemed frozen, unable to move.
Yan Xunan sighed, straightened up and walked closer, gently took her hand, and said sadly, "Qing'er, I've seen everything about you these past few days. You're unhappy, aren't you? You didn't willingly face all of this, did you?"