"Ruthless Ashura."
This title echoed silently in the minds of every director in the top-floor conference room of the Qianhai City Financial Center, like the Sword of Damocles hanging overhead.
Yun Hanchuan's slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the solid wood table, the sound resembling the ticking of a countdown clock. The meeting room was eerily quiet, so much so that even the faint hum of the central air conditioning vents could be heard clearly. His gaze swept across the twelve directors present like a sharp blade, and no one dared to meet his eyes. Those who were once dominant figures in the business world now sat like statues pinned to their seats, even their breathing becoming cautious.
"Three minutes." His voice was not loud, but it caused the room temperature to drop by at least five degrees. Beneath the cuffs of his deep gray custom-made suit, his priceless Patek Philippe watch reflected a cold glow. "Director Zhao, you have three minutes to explain why the new quarterly financial report contains such an 'error.'"
The director in question—a middle-aged man in his early fifties with thinning hair—had beads of sweat on his forehead, and the documents in his hands trembled slightly. He unconsciously loosened his tie, as if it were a noose tightening around his neck. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference room, the sky over Qianhai City was ominously overcast, with dark clouds hanging low, as if ready to shatter the glass facade of the skyscraper at any moment.
"Mr. Yun, this... this is indeed the oversight by the Finance Department..." Zhao's voice was dry and raspy, like sandpaper rubbing against skin, "We are currently re-calculating..."
"Two minutes and thirty seconds." Yun Hanchuan raised his hand to interrupt, and this gesture caused Zhao Director to abruptly shut his mouth. He glanced at his wristwatch, his tone as indifferent as if he was only discussing the weather, "I want the reason, not an excuse."
Director Zhao turned pale instantly. He looked to the other directors for help, but only to find that everyone was deliberately avoiding his gaze. Under the conference table, his legs trembled uncontrollably, leaving messy marks on the carpet with his expensive custom-made leather shoes.
Yun Hanchuan is only thirty years old this year, yet had been at the helm of the Yun Group for eight years. Over these eight years, he had transformed a state-owned enterprise into a commercial empire spanning across Asia and Europe, with its market value increasing nearly a hundredfold. His methods were ruthless, his vision sharp, and he was feared throughout the business world. A competitor had once publicly questioned his decisions at a board meeting, only to have his company exposed for financial fraud the next day. He is now serving out the rest of his life in prison.
Outside the meeting room, Chief Secretary Cheng Yan quietly observed everything through the glass wall. He had been with Yun Hanchuan for seven years and knew his boss's style well—after this meeting, at least three people from the finance department would be packing their bags and leaving. He glanced at the tablet in his hand; the "Qingshan'ao village Inspection" item on the schedule had been circled in red with an electronic pen.
The new energy project in that remote mountain village was one that CEO Yun insisted on inspecting in person, despite opposition from half of the board directors. However, no one dared to speak up against it after he made the final decision. Cheng Yan was well aware of the reason—three years ago, a similar project in the western mountains had been delayed due to corruption by local officials, resulting in losses of nearly ten billion. Since then, whenever a major project involved a remote area, Yun Hanchuan would personally conduct an on-site inspection.
"Secretary Cheng."
A deep voice suddenly rang out beside him. Cheng Yan startled, looked up, and saw that Yun Hanchuan had already stepped out of the meeting room and was standing less than half a meter away from him. Those eagle-like, piercing eyes were fixed on him, causing him to involuntarily straighten his spine.
"Is the car ready?"
"We can depart at any time, Mr. Yun," Cheng Yan immediately regained his professional composure. "However, the latest weather forecast indicates that there may be heavy rain in the Qing Shan Ao area tomorrow. Should we postpone the trip?"
Yun Hanchuan's lips curled into a rare smile, which sent a chill down Cheng Yan's spine: "Rain is perfect for testing the drainage system." He spoke as he stepped towards the private elevator, his voice growing faint as he moved away, "Notify the project team— Continue with the original plan."
Cheng Yan quickly jotted down the instructions on his tablet while hurrying to catch up. Before the elevator doors closed, he glanced one last time at the conference room—Zhao Director was slumped in his chair, his face ashen, with documents scattered on the floor.
…
At the same moment, a hundred kilometers away in the village of Qing Shan Ao, inside a dilapidated wooden house on the brink of collapse, six-year-old Nuan Nuan opened her eyes.
She first reached out to touch her left side—a warm, fluffy object was snuggled against her. The white cat Tuantuan purred contentedly, signaling that it was awake. On the ground to her right, the little black dog had stretched lazily, its tail gently tapping the muddy ground, making a "tap-tap" sound.
"Good morning… Tuantuan… Xiaohei," Nuannuan said softly, her voice clear and calm, like a stream flowing through the mountains.
Tuantuan meowed in response, her voice sounded lazy: "Meow~ Good morning, Nuan Nuan." Xiao Hei excitedly spun around in circles twice, his claws scraping the ground with a soft rustling sound.
She felt her way up from the straw-covered bed, her bare feet skillfully avoiding the protruding knots in the ground, and made her way to the water jar in the corner. Despite being blind, her movements were surprisingly fluid, as if the simple wooden hut was an extension of her own body.
The water jar was made from half of an abandoned gasoline drum, its edges worn smooth. Nuan Nuan tiptoed, using a gourd ladle to scoop water, she first poured it into a broken bowl on the ground for Xiao Hei, then using another chipped clay dish for tuantuan, and finally washing herself. This order remained unchanged for three years, as regular as the rise and fall of the sun.
"Today… we go… east." Nuan Nuan said while wiping her face with a ragged cloth. Her voice was soft, yet carried an unwavering certainty.
Nuan Nuan "looked" toward the window—if it could be called a window, it was just a square opening in the wall covered with plastic sheeting. Though she couldn't see, she could feel the temperature change as sunlight filtered through the plastic, knowing it was a sunny day. The wind crept in through the cracks, carrying the scent of pine needles and earth, telling her the dew in the mountains had likely dried.
She picked up the small basket woven from vines—it was made by Grandma Wang from the village last year, though it was crooked, it was sturdy. As she opened the door, the morning mountain breeze swept in, tangling her fluffy chestnut curls and bringing the scent of wildflowers from the distant valley.
Nuan Nuan took a deep breath, her small hands skillfully gripping the leash on Xiao Hei's back. The leash was made from strips of old cloth, worn smooth and shiny from use. Tuantuan stayed behind to guard the house—this was always the way, an unspoken rule between them, as Tuantuan hated getting his paws dirty while climbing.
As she set off on the familiar mountain path with Xiao Hei, a black SUV was heading toward Qing Shan Ao on the outskirts of Qianhai City. Little did she know that the man sitting in the car, known as the "Business Demon," is about to change her peaceful yet difficult life.