At 8:30 in the morning, Mulan pulled up in a Porsche Panamera and stopped in front of a sleek skyscraper.
"This is…" Ethan glanced at a nearby coffee shop he remembered all too well.
Mulan pointed upwards. "My office. Come on, I'll show you around."
She strode into the building's grand lobby.
Everyone who saw Mulan inside bowed their heads slightly, greeting her with a respectful "Good morning, President Mu," before casting curious glances at Ethan and hurrying on their way.
The lobby was bustling. Eight elevators operated simultaneously, yet each was packed. People were on phones, others hurriedly finishing breakfasts.
Mulan led Ethan to the side, to a private elevator reserved for her.
They rode it up to the 19th floor.
The doors opened onto another hive of activity. Employees came and go, offering the same greetings as downstairs, but the people on this floor were clearly management level. Whether on calls or delegating tasks, their tones were commanding. Their scrutiny of Ethan was also more intense, as if trying to place which influential family he was connected to and what position he might be slotted into.
Mulan walked briskly ahead and pushed open an office door.
The 150-square-meter office was spacious and imposing. The moment the door closed, all the external noise vanished, leaving utter silence.
Mulan walked to the expansive floor-to-ceiling window. The 19th-floor height gave her a commanding view of everything below.
"How does it feel?"
Ethan walked over and looked down for a moment, then shook his head. "Nothing special."
"Doesn't it feel good? Having everything beneath you, everyone looking smaller, with only a handful at your level, and you know them all?"
"No," Ethan shook his head again. "Maybe it's a difference in perspective. This isn't my life. Standing here doesn't evoke much. If I had to say, it's not as comfortable as looking out at the mountains from The Summit."
Mulan gave a light laugh, turned, and selected a tea from a shelf to brew for him. "Logically, that feeling should be the norm. What you don't want, what you're not suited for, no matter how good others think it is, feels mediocre to you. But the problem is, some people don't see it that way. They always want to arrange everything for you."
Though Mulan didn't name names, it wasn't hard for Ethan to guess. He didn't take the bait.
Mulan placed the brewed tea on the desk with a gesture for him to help himself.
"Do you know why I brought you here today?"
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "To show off your power?"
Mulan was taken aback, then let out a melodious laugh. "I suppose you're not wrong. You asked me why yesterday. This is my answer. You've met the other two. I genuinely didn't like them."
"That wasn't quite the question I asked, though," Ethan said, blowing gently on his tea. "My question was, why did you choose me?"
Mulan didn't speak, just sat opposite him, staring intently.
Ethan touched his face. "Did I not wash it properly this morning?"
Mulan looked at him with a strange expression. "You really don't know?"
Mulan knew her father's character well. In her eyes, he was intensely proud. While he appeared gentle on the surface, the pride in his heart bordered on arrogance. Even when encountering people of extraordinary status, her father would only say, "Soon, we'll be equals."
But that night on the phone, she had heard five words from him she'd never heard before:
"We can't afford to provoke them."
In all her life, she had never heard him say such a thing!
Never!
Ethan shook his head and countered, "Why would I know?"
Mulan smiled, a beautiful smile. "If you don't know, then forget it. But I think, for you, it's only a matter of time before you find out."
Ethan took a deep breath. "So, does that mean our collaboration is confirmed?"
Collaboration!
Mulan asked herself—yes, this should be a collaboration. But having Ethan state it so bluntly made her feel slightly uneasy.
"Couldn't you use a different word?"
Ethan thought for a moment. "Our little gang is officially formed?"
Mulan rolled her eyes. "Let's stick with collaboration. Have you found a direction?"
"Yeah." Ethan nodded, knowing she was referring to the matter from New Year's Eve.
Mulan also took a deep breath and proactively extended her hand. "Then let's wish us... successful collaboration."
Ten minutes later, Ethan exited the skyscraper. Wade Qi was already waiting with the car.
Ethan got in and looked up at the building. The towering structure blocked the sun, casting this side in deep shadow, feeling particularly frigid in the season. After just a few steps, it felt like his nose might freeze off.
"Brother Seven, to the casino."
Ethan realized this was probably the first time he'd gone to the casino this early.
Just as he stepped past the "Elegance Redefined" marble screen, a figure blocked his path.
Ethan looked at the man. It was Victor Mu.
Mulan's brother.
Right now, Victor's eyes blazed with fury, his body trembling slightly.
Ethan could see the man was restraining himself with extreme effort, but could explode at any second.
Victor clenched his fists, glaring at Ethan. "It seems you didn't take my warning to heart!"
Ethan looked genuinely puzzled. "Do you have a superiority complex?"
"What did you say?" Victor grabbed a handful of Ethan's collar.
Ethan glanced at his crumpled collar, then spread his hands and smiled. "Do you? Or do you think you're better than everyone? Do I need your permission for what I do? Or does Mulan need your permission for what she does? 'I didn't take your warning to heart?' Why should I take it to heart?"
Victor's grip tightened. "You've got a lot of nerve, talking to me like that!"
"The one with nerve isn't me. It should be you." Ethan gestured around them. "Don't forget, this is my turf."
"Your turf?" Victor sneered. "Don't make me laugh. You're just a minor manager. Go ask your precious Boss if he would dare speak to me like that!"
Ethan grinned widely. "You said it yourself. 'Go ask The Boss.' It's just a pity…"
"A pity for what?"
"A pity I'm not The Boss!" Ethan suddenly swung his arm, throwing a hook punch directly at Victor's face.
Ethan was fast, and it was a sneak attack, with Victor still holding his collar.
Yet, even so, Victor caught Ethan's wrist just before the punch landed.
Victor held Ethan's wrist firmly. "You don't know your place."
"Go to hell!" Ethan spat a wad of phlegm directly at Victor's face.
Victor instinctively flinched back.
Ethan immediately slammed his forehead forward into Victor's face.
The impact was solid. Even Ethan felt his head spin slightly.
Victor stumbled back several steps, touching his forehead. "All fucking cheap shots, huh?! Let's see how many you've got!"
With that, Victor charged at Ethan.
"Security!" Ethan yelled. "Restrain this troublemaker!"
The casino security didn't know who Victor was. They had already been edging closer due to the commotion. Now, with Ethan's order, they rushed forward, raising their batons.
Victor snorted coldly, these guards were beneath his notice. He clenched his fist, ready to fight.
"Enough! All of you, stand down!"
A voice halted the security team. The Boss walked over, glanced at Ethan, then looked at Victor.
"Mr. Mu, my apologies. My man doesn't know any better. Causing you trouble."
Victor, poised to fight, relaxed his fist. "The Boss arrives just in time."
"Mr. Mu, my apologies. Let me make it up to you." The Boss walked closer. "Join me for some tea?"
Victor snorted coldly. "Fine. I'd like to hear what you have to say!"
Victor shot a final glare at Ethan and strode off ahead.
The Boss followed a few steps behind, patting Ethan on the shoulder as he passed. "Wait for me in the lounge."
Then, The Boss quickened his pace to catch up with Victor, heading to the tea room.
Ethan rolled his shoulders and neck, then addressed the security team. "Thanks, brothers. I'll have Hong Zhi get you some chips. Take them and have some fun on your break."
"Thanks, Manager Chen!"
"You're the best, Manager Chen!"
The security guards were thrilled. Ethan didn't directly hand out cash or offer to buy a meal—either could be used against him. He knew the story of Shen Wansan, the Ming dynasty's richest man, who was executed for 'privately rewarding troops.' But exchanging chips boosted the casino's revenue, which was a different matter. What the guards did with the chips afterwards was their business.
Ethan had Hong Zhi open a VIP lounge for him, poured himself some tea, and waited for The Boss.
It was over half an hour before The Boss finally pushed the door open and sat down opposite Ethan. He poured himself a cup of tea and spoke. "I heard you had a run-in with Tyler He yesterday."
"Yeah." Ethan nodded. "But Uncle Kun already smoothed it over."
The Boss asked, though he clearly knew the answer. "What did Uncle Kun say?"
"Told me to 'assist' Tyler more."
"I see…" The Boss lifted his teacup. "Can't be helped. After all, this operation is primarily Uncle Kun's. I'm just a partner in name. What are your thoughts?"
Ethan took a sip of tea. "Boss, are you content with this?"
"What do you mean?" The Boss frowned.
Ethan's gaze dropped to The Boss's shirt pocket.
The Boss looked down and understood what Ethan was looking at. He smiled, took out the half-exposed pack of cigarettes, and placed it on the table.
Ethan took one and lit it, inhaling deeply. "Boss, collaboration is built on a foundation of mutual benefit. But right now, that foundation is no longer stable."
The Boss asked, "What are you trying to say?"
Ethan exhaled a plume of smoke.
The VIP lounge felt vast and empty.
"Uncle Kun needs to be removed from the board."