Chapter 12

She suddenly flung Han Xu’s hand away and staggered backward.

“This has nothing to do with me! He signed all the documents. He transferred the money!”

Her carefully done makeup was completely smeared. She ran toward the elevator like a madwoman.

“I’m only the finance person! I don’t know anything! I want to go back to the U.S.!”

She screamed as she frantically pressed the button to call the elevator down.

Ding!

The doors opened, but the people who stepped out weren’t security guards. They were two uniformed police officers.

“Ms. Xiao. Mr. Han.”

The lead officer showed his credentials, his voice stern.

“We’ve received a named complaint. You are suspected of involvement in a serious economic crime. We are summoning you for questioning in accordance with the law.”

Xiao froze. At the sight of the cold metal handcuffs, her legs suddenly gave way and she fell to the floor.

Han Xu, on the other hand, remained strangely calm from beginning to end.

He looked at the police, then at me. Finally, the corner of his mouth twisted into an ugly smile.

“Shen Zhi, you win.”

He held out his hands and let the officers cuff him.

As they led him away, he stopped and looked back at me once.

“But I didn’t lose because you were more capable. I lost because of the fortune your mother left you.”

A week later, the rainy season in Jiangzhe had finally passed.

Early-summer sunlight filtered through the leaves of the century-old camphor tree in the courtyard, scattering mottled patches of light.

The Han Group building had been sealed. A newly appointed professional management team was carrying out a complete overhaul.

Han Xu had been formally detained on suspicion of multiple serious crimes.

The gentle façade he’d always been so proud of had completely fallen apart in detention. I heard he got into fights every day over the steamed buns.

Xiao tried to flee through the airport, but because of the enormous debts tied to assets in her name, she was barred from leaving the country.

Now she was a judgment debtor. She couldn’t even rent a room in a poor neighborhood in the city. I heard she was selling off her designer bags just to get by.

My uncle fell seriously ill.

After leaving the hospital, he refused to stay in the big villa and insisted on moving back to the countryside to grow vegetables.

He said he no longer had the face to see my mother, so he wanted to live back home and make amends.

I didn’t stop him. I only arranged for the best medical team to check on his health regularly.

That afternoon, I sat in the courtyard of the old house.

The “Han’s Tea Premium Cultural Experience Center” sign had been smashed and hauled away for firewood.

The Yixing teapot was broken. I didn’t ask anyone to repair it; instead, I bought an ordinary set of celadon tea ware.

The kettle on the charcoal stove began to bubble.

I pinched some Maojian harvested before the Qingming Festival and put it in the teacup.

As the boiling water poured in, the young tea leaves curled in the cup, releasing an unusually clean fragrance.

It was a flavor nurtured for more than a hundred years on these eleven tea mountains.

“President Shen, the new-season sales report is ready.”

Zhu Jingnian’s voice came from behind me.

He’d since been promoted to vice president, overseeing both technology and operations.

“Just leave it there.”

I didn’t turn around. I lifted my cup and took a small sip.

Zhu Jingnian set the file on the stone table, but didn’t immediately leave.

He hesitated for a moment, then finally couldn’t resist asking.

“President Shen, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”