Chapter 57 – A Moment of Peace Amid the Noise
The old courtyard was quaint, with only a few plants and flowers, but a closer look revealed they had been meticulously tended.
It wasn’t far from Jiangling’s commercial district, a peaceful haven tucked within the bustle of the city.
The old man sat cross-legged at a low table, studying a half-finished game of chess.
The table was set on the lawn just beneath the eaves, and all he had for a seat was a woven rattan mat.
Shao Zhan had missed mealtime and was now sitting under the veranda, sipping tea.
Fifteen minutes passed. The old man reached for his empty cup, set it down, picked up the light teapot, and set that down too.
Then he turned away from the chessboard and said bluntly to his eldest grandson, “Why are you here?”
Shao Zhan didn’t take offense. “Missed you. Thought I’d come visit.”
Though the old man was advanced in age, his mind was sharp. “And you came empty-handed?”
When Shao Zhan nodded without shame, the old man summed it up for him: “Wishful thinking?”
To his surprise, Shao Zhan not only admitted it without a trace of guilt—he even stole the last two pieces of mung bean cake from the plate.
“Alright, you’ve visited. Now get lost.” The old man waved him off, pretending not to notice the injuries on his grandson.
Shao Zhan shrugged and told his grandfather not to bother seeing him out, strolling down the long corridor toward the exit.
Not long after, he came back, muttered a cryptic line—“Grandpa, I’m doing fine”—and left again without waiting for a reply or looking back.
Soon after he was gone, the intricately carved wooden door behind the old man opened.
It was Shao Zhan’s aunt, just woken from her nap by the noise. Her features bore a faint resemblance to her nephew’s.
She gently scolded the old man for not caring enough about the child.
The old man let out a snort, his attention entirely on the chessboard. That kid was already an adult—what did they expect him to do, cradle him in his arms and coddle him? What a joke.
His sister, however, couldn’t help feeling distressed for her nephew. “Our child’s been bullied, and you can really just turn a blind eye to it?”
The old man’s gaze never left the chessboard. After a long pause, he let out a cold snort and moved a knight in the traditional L-shape. Only then did his eyes slowly shift over.
He had raised that child himself. If even something this minor required help from the family, then he really would have been a disappointment. He tapped the empty teapot with a finger. Beneath the shade of the trees, filled with the scent of greenery, the old man closed his eyes halfway.
…
In the past, Shao Zhan didn’t go out of his way to disguise himself when coming and going. But since the matter of his injury wasn’t ready to be made public, he left the house wearing a face mask and a baseball cap. His destination: one of the top three private kitchens in Jiangling.
Privacy was a high priority at this establishment. Non-members weren’t even allowed in.
By the time Shao Zhan arrived, his guest had already been shown into a private room by a server.
“Director Feng,” Shao Zhan said, taking off his mask and cap, and smoothing back his hair. “Sorry I’m late.”
Meanwhile, on the other side, Yang Sa was moving freely between the base and Xinghai headquarters using the password Shao Zhan had given him. Whether this counted as lax management or a mark of deep trust was up for debate, but no one stopped him—not even when he entered the executive-only elevator.
Even on the eleventh floor, where the secretarial office was located, no one questioned his presence. As he passed, a polite inquiry was made: would he prefer coffee or tea?
Yang Sa declined the offer from a beautiful secretary in a pale lavender suit and made his way alone to Shao Zhan’s office on the same floor.
After inputting the six-digit password, the lock clicked open.
The spacious office held only a solid wood desk and a single chair—everything looked brand new. Clearly, the owner didn’t visit often and hadn’t intended to host meetings or hear reports from subordinates here.
Yang Sa hesitated for a moment, then sat down in the dark brown leather chair and pressed the power button.
In the near-silent hum of the computer’s fan, he entered the boot-up password. The crisp clack of the keys echoed in the quiet room.
“He’s here.”
Shao Zhan received the message from his secretary. It was brief and to the point.
Although Secretary Chen was young, he had been trained by one of Shao Zhan’s father’s longtime subordinates. He had been with Shao Zhan for years, handling miscellaneous affairs at headquarters. Loyal and dependable, he had always dealt with things in a calm and steady manner.
Shao Zhan didn’t reply. He had already given all the necessary instructions, and he trusted Secretary Chen to handle the rest. As for Yang Sa, he had left the biggest choice up to him.
Exiting the messaging app, Shao Zhan set down his phone.
Guests at this private restaurant valued discretion above all else. After confirming that the guest had arrived, the waiter quietly withdrew.
Because of his injured right hand, Shao Zhan’s movements were limited. Director Feng, whose hair was half-white with age, thoughtfully placed dishes onto the plate in front of him.
“Sorry,” Shao Zhan said politely, with a note of apology in his voice. “I invited you to dinner, but ended up needing you to take care of me instead.”
Director Feng waved his hand repeatedly. “Don’t say that. You’re about the same age as my youngest son, and you’re injured—of course I’ll look after you a bit.”
After most of the dishes had been served, Director Feng found an opportunity to ask about the injury: “Is it serious?”
Shao Zhan maintained his usual calm demeanor and shook his head.
“Does it mean… you won’t be able to play esports anymore?” Director Feng asked. He was a veteran of the team, part of Xinghai since before they broke away from Silver Emperor, and had long been in charge of finances. He had only stepped down a couple of years ago, supposedly a casualty of the internal power struggles within Silver Emperor.
Back then, when Shao Zhan’s father—Old Shao—bought the team, Feng had wanted to go with him. But a moment of hesitation had led to today’s outcome. Even though he had left the club a long time ago, hearing Shao Zhan call him “Director” stirred memories of those days when he had fought side by side with Shao Zhan’s father.
“Who hurt you?” he asked bluntly, speaking from the heart like an elder concerned for a child. When he saw that Shao Zhan didn’t answer, he rephrased the question: “Is the person who hurt you connected to the Silver Emperor Club?”
A long silence followed.
Feng Changshan lowered his hand and stared steadily across the table.
“Alright then—what is it you want from me?”