Just as Jing Hong had anticipated, the progress of the Med-Ferry acquisition was indeed not smooth sailing.

Fanhai and Qinghui revised their offers several times, raising the bidding price repeatedly. Then, just as Med-Ferry’s board of directors was gradually leaning toward Fanhai Group, Qinghui suddenly hiked their offer price by 12.5%.

Med-Ferry was instantly stunned by the massive bid.

Originally, because Fanhai had pledged “no split” and “no restructuring” while Qinghui had refused to do so, the scales had tipped toward Fanhai. But with this move, the scales instantly crashed down toward Qinghui with a loud “clang,” swinging completely to their side.

Med-Ferry’s founders and shareholders preferred “no split” and “no restructuring,” but they loved money even more. With Qinghui hiking the total consideration by 12.5% all at once, they stood to make a huge fortune.

“What’s going on?” In his office, Jing Hong frowned and asked, “This price? Is Qinghui crazy?” Although acquisitions with a premium of several hundred percent were quite common, Med-Ferry was clearly not worth it.

What was the point of winning like this?

Everyone’s profit margins were about the same; if they threw too much money into this area, they wouldn’t be able to compete elsewhere. Qinghui’s money didn’t just grow on trees, either.

Zhao Hanqing sat angled toward Jing Hong, looking at him with a long sigh: “Qinghui has decided to acquire only 90% of the shares, while the remaining 10% will be taken over by ‘Antai Fund.’ Qinghui formed a consortium on their side.”

Jing Hong ran the math in his head and said, “Even then, that’s still not enough.”

“They can also avoid taxes,” Zhao Hanqing explained to Jing Hong. “Under the Swedish Real Estate Transfer Tax Act, acquiring more than 95% of the shares in a company that owns real estate requires paying a real estate transfer tax of 3.5% to 4.5% of the total real estate value. Med-Ferry is a large enterprise with office buildings, factories, warehouses… the real estate tax alone comes out to roughly 80 million euros. Once Antai Fund steps in, that 80 million is saved.”

Jing Hong paused for a moment and asked, “Is that so?”

Even someone like Jing Hong couldn’t possibly know every niche, obscure law across all countries in the world.

Zhao Hanqing nodded silently.

After a brief silence between them, Zhao Hanqing said, “At this price, I suggest we drop it. It’s not worth it. I’ve just put together a list of other acquisition targets. Or… does Fanhai also have an ‘Antai Fund’ type of partner who is willing to play second fiddle?”

Jing Hong remained silent.

They really didn’t.

Investment funds were all out to make money. Med-Ferry’s business had not been going well in recent years—it was even stagnating. Fanhai and Qinghui’s acquisitions were purely out of their own strategic goals to promote their respective products in the future. What’s more, because Fanhai and Qinghui had gotten into a bidding war, the current total acquisition price was significantly higher than Med-Ferry’s actual value.

Zhao Hanqing was right. Antai Fund’s hundreds of millions of euros were purely meant to facilitate Qinghui Group, paving the way for Qinghui’s success.

Fanhai would never beg others.

Knowing full well the reason behind it, Jing Hong cursed anyway, “Is Antai out of its mind?”

“Uh,” Zhao Hanqing said cautiously, “Antai Fund has always been thick as thieves with Qinghui Group. They haven’t used this trick before, after all, it involves hundreds of millions of euros from Antai Fund itself. But it’s not surprising either. Supposedly back when Antai Fund was facing a life-or-death crisis, Zhou Buqun gave them a hand—it basically amounted to a life-saving grace for Antai Fund.”

“…” Jing Hong raised his eyelids, looked at Zhao Hanqing, and gave a half-hearted, fake smile. “I know.”

He just wanted to vent a bit; he wasn’t looking for a counterargument.

“…” Zhao Hanqing didn’t dare say another word.

Jing Hong thought: Jing Haiping, oh Jing Haiping. Every day you say Zhou Buqun is a bad guy and you’re a good guy. Look at that—that bad guy has ironclad buddies, while you, the good guy, have none.

“This is actually a signal.” Pulling his thoughts back, Jing Hong stopped mentioning Zhou Buqun and said, “It’s not that Qinghui Group really can’t pull out those hundreds of millions of euros. They just want to let us know that they have allies on their side. They want to tell us that if it comes to a price war, Fanhai Group holds no advantage. Qinghui wants us, Fanhai, to back off voluntarily and stop driving up the price; otherwise, Fanhai will still lose, and Qinghui will bleed heavily, only benefiting Med-Ferry in the end. We are both Chinese enterprises; let’s not let foreigners make money off of us while enjoying the drama.”

Zhao Hanqing tried to divine his boss’s intention: “Then—”

“Let’s hold our ground for now,” Jing Hong instructed. “Let me look into it.”

“Alright,” Zhao Hanqing said, handing over the table listing other acquisition targets. “Please take a look at this as well—the alternative targets. Qinghui wants to acquire a company with orthopedic implants because they want to help Weikang Medical push for an IPO, but that’s not our goal. Other companies will work too. In terms of ‘resources,’ Med-Ferry actually has substitutes.”

“Mm.” Jing Hong casually flipped through the table in his hand while telling Zhao Hanqing, “Target-wise, I still prefer Med-Ferry. I want the AI drug research and development company under Med-Ferry. I didn’t mention it before, but I actually want it very much.”

Zhao Hanqing paused for a second in confusion, a slight look of bewilderment appearing in his eyes.

“Alright,” Jing Hong dismissed Zhao Hanqing, “I’ll think about it more.”

Zhao Hanqing nodded: “Okay.”

…………

Arriving home in the evening, Jing Hong stripped off his clothes, took a shower, and lay on his bedroom bed.

He didn’t like wearing pajamas and was used to wearing only underwear. It was said that people with this habit had a strong sex drive, though Jing Hong didn’t know if that was true.

He had originally wanted to lean against the headboard and read a book, but his younger cousin called him on an audio call.

Jing Hong had a very good relationship with his cousin and her parents—when he was young, Jing Haiping and Jiang Mei were busy starting their business and rarely at home, so he had spent part of his childhood at their house.

Later, as Jing Hong grew increasingly outstanding, he never forgot to send greetings to his cousin’s family during holidays, and whenever they called, he was always exceptionally patient.

“Brother, brother,” his cousin Jing Yu said, “Gossip time, gossip time! I saw online today that the ‘Crown Prince’ of XX Group has an insanely sharp investment eye? He’s funded several listed companies with a 100% success rate? So many things we use now have investments from the ‘Crown Prince’? Is it true? A lot of people are saying his ability rivals the ones from Fanhai and Qinghui, making him the third insanely impressive second-generation entrepreneur. Is that true?”

“Let me look at his investments first.” Jing Hong propped himself up with one arm, a Bluetooth earpiece in his ear, casually scrolling through his iPad while lazily clearing up her confusion. “Fake. His investments are all in Series E or Series F rounds, along with a bunch of pre-IPOs. Every single one is a hot company that VCs were fighting over. Take the two or three with the highest returns, for instance—his investments were all pre-IPO. Everyone knew those two companies were about to go public.” Jing Hong’s tone was languid. “This kind of hot investment doesn’t rely on vision; it relies on resources. And his resource is his dad.”

His cousin wasn’t disappointed; instead, she sounded like she had just devoured some juicy gossip: “Ooh—!!!”

In contrast, Jing Hong himself had seriously invested in several angel rounds under his personal name years ago. Some of those companies succeeded, and some failed, but overall, at the “angel round” level, his investment success rate and return rate were extraordinarily impressive.

On the other end, his cousin said: “So this ‘Number Three’ doesn’t live up to his reputation, then.”

Jing Hong said casually: “Right now, there’s really nothing special to see. His dad probably wants to build up his reputation. It’s normal.” In this day and age, “god-making” was often effective.

However, his cousin’s phrase “this ‘Number Three’ doesn’t live up to his reputation” suddenly made Jing Hong realize that after so many years, the second-generation entrepreneurs who actually lived up to their reputations were still only him and Zhou Chang. Zhou Chang had also invested in several very impressive angel rounds.

It had to be said that his and Zhou Chang’s abilities saved their fathers a world of trouble. Supposedly, other “first-generation entrepreneurs” were already worrying about wealth inheritance, because when it came to “stock inheritance,” family interests and company interests often clashed drastically.

Jing Hong thought: The companies of those ‘first-generation entrepreneurs’ probably won’t get much further than that.

In fact, compared to the giant corporations founded by the older generation, Jing Hong felt that the unicorns founded by the new generation posed a greater threat. Swarms of educated, capable people were eyeing those giant corporations like wolves, waiting for an opportunity to take over.

Just as he was thinking this, his cousin brought up Zhou Chang: “By the way, brother, the other day I was reading some gossip about how Zhou Chang ‘bloodbassacred the board of directors’ back in the day. A financial reporter leaked it, and enthusiastic netizens took screenshots.”

Because he had been thinking about Zhou Chang all along, hearing her mention the name gave Jing Hong a sudden, guilty feeling of having his mind read. He asked, “Hmm? How did he ‘bloodbassacre the board’?”

“Well,” his cousin recalled, “It seems like… because Zhou Chang took over Qinghui rather abruptly, some veterans on the board of directors weren’t happy about it.”

At that time, Jing Hong had also just taken over the reins and didn’t really care much about Qinghui or Zhou Chang, so he was unaware of those friction points. Now, however, his interest was slightly piqued, and he asked, “And then?”

“Huh,” his cousin was shocked, “Brother, you actually want to hear gossip, too? You never used to ask me follow-up questions! But you asked twice today!”

“It’s alright,” Jing Hong wasn’t about to let the little girl catch him off guard, joking, “Just treat it as a bedtime story to listen to casually.”

“Alright then,” his cousin continued, “But I don’t really remember it that clearly… anyway, anyone who tried to fight him got ousted by him. Oh wait, I remember one thing! Zhou Chang wanted to sue a shareholder because that shareholder had an affiliated loan issue related to Qinghui’s payment business… Zhou Chang was also one of the shareholders, so naturally, he could sue the other party. Then, so that Zhou Chang would spare him, that shareholder had no choice but to agree to vote alongside Zhou Chang at the shareholders’ meeting to kick a director off the board. Later, Zhou Chang simply drafted a 15-person director slate with independent directors he picked himself, basically saying: the director slate will follow this exact list!”

Jing Hong listened with great interest: “So that’s how it was.”

In fact, Jing Hong didn’t believe for a second that Zhou Chang would ever run into real trouble.

Qinghui, like Fanhai, was a US-listed company that had adopted a dual-class share structure with “different rights for the same shares” when it went public years ago. Even their structures were remarkably similar—Class A were ordinary shares with one vote per share, while Class B held super-voting rights with ten votes per share. At the same time, the largest shareholder and the founder had both signed a concert party agreement.

Jing Haiping, Jiang Mei, and Jing Hong held only 8.8% of Fanhai Group’s shares, yet possessed 49.1% of the voting rights. Jing Hong knew the Zhou family held slightly less than his own family, but it should still be above 40%. Under such circumstances, with Zhou Chang’s ability and tactics, controlling the board of directors was as easy as turning over his hand. It was just that director who didn’t know his place, foolishly believing he could play the prince regent.

However, thinking back to himself, Jing Hong realized he had also been fully prepared and on high alert when he first took over. Unlike Zhou Chang, who ruled the army with high-pressure, thunderous tactics, he had taken a gentle approach—back then, before every board meeting, Jing Hong would call every director of Fanhai in advance to ask for their opinions on each meeting proposal, and then explain his own thoughts to ensure no out-of-control situations occurred during the meeting. His tongue had always been sharp; whenever there was a disagreement, he could basically convince the other party beforehand, resulting in a relatively smooth transition for Fanhai.

At this point, his cousin remembered the second half of the story and talked a bit more. After listening to the whole thing, Jing Hong could only comment: “And that’s called ‘bloodbassacring the board’… rumors are way too exaggerated. Zhou Chang didn’t even really have to use his brain.” The highlight was just the first part.

As he spoke, Jing Hong couldn’t help complaining about Jing Haiping in his head: You always say I’m too ruthless. You call what I do ruthless? Look at other people, ‘bloodbassacring the board,’ tsk tsk.

“Forget it, forget it…” Hearing that Jing Hong felt the story wasn’t exciting or good enough, his cousin said, “So as a bedtime story, is it qualified?”

Jing Hong continued teasing his cousin: “Not qualified. Your story is too vivid, with all your inflections, dramatic delivery, and high pitch. Whose bedtime story makes a person more and more awake the more they listen?”

His cousin’s voice was actually very pleasant, like a carefree lark, but when she got too excited while telling a story, it became a bit sharp.

“Hmph,” his cousin asked, “Then whose voice is suitable for reading a bedtime story?”

“…” Jing Hong really couldn’t think of anyone for a moment.

Inexplicably, he thought of Zhou Chang himself.

A steady, deep, thick voice with a magnetic edge—if he personally recounted those past events of his in a soft, quiet voice, it would probably make a pretty good bedtime story.

“Brother?”

“Hmm?” Pulling his thoughts back, Jing Hong smiled. “Sometimes, indulging in a little fantasy seems to be quite a good way to relieve stress.”