Chapter Twenty-Three: No One Can Touch This Money!

Shen Qingqiang's face was twisted with ferocity. He leveled his weapon at Su Zheng and snarled, “Aren’t you supposed to be tough? Think you can move faster than what I’m holding? Believe it or not, I could shoot you dead right now!”

Su Zheng showed not a trace of panic. He had long anticipated that Shen Qingqiang would not yield so easily. Paying no attention to the dark muzzle pointed at him, he continued to sit there, utterly unruffled.

“You can pull the trigger,” Su Zheng said calmly, “but let me remind you—within the next ten seconds or so, you’ll first lose the ability to move. Then your organs will feel as though they’re roasting over flames, and finally, every blood vessel in your body will burst. You’ll leave this world for good. And only I can save you.”

“Now, a few more seconds have passed. You might want to start counting down for yourself.”

Su Zheng’s voice was tranquil, his manner as if he were discussing something trivial. Only the glint of coldness in his eyes deepened, causing Shen Qingqiang to hesitate.

“Hmph! You think you can scare me? Listen, I’m not handing over the Chens’ project funds. Your side was at fault first, understand?!”

A faint smile played at the corner of Su Zheng’s mouth as he regarded Shen Qingqiang with a look of pity.

“I don’t know where the Chen family found a reckless fool like you, but let me warn you—don’t push me. It’s not worth risking your life for the Chens. You’d better get lost and tell that old woman Chen to come talk compensation with me herself!”

Shen Qingqiang’s fierce tone could not mask his growing unease. The calmer Su Zheng became, the more agitated he felt.

But just as he was about to continue his tirade, a sudden rigidity seized his body. It was as if he’d been paralyzed, his limbs no longer obeying his mind. He crashed back into his office chair.

“Ugh!”

Terror seized him. He wanted to speak, but his tongue would no longer obey.

“You have about a minute left before you experience the sensation of your organs roasting alive,” Su Zheng said indifferently.

Fear truly gripped Shen Qingqiang now. He had never encountered such a strange man—someone who, with only a brief meeting, could so easily hold his life in the balance. This was more terrifying than any ghost.

“Ugh… argh… cough…”

His eyes bulged; all thought of resistance vanished. All he wanted was to plead for mercy, to beg Su Zheng to spare his life.

“Let’s see if this works for you: settle the project payment with me, and as for any losses the Chen family caused you, take it up with Chen Xiong. You tried to save money by first signing a surface contract with Haoyuan Trading, then going to Chen Xiong for a bargain. These are two separate matters, aren’t they?”

Su Zheng’s gaze was bright as he laid out his proposal—the very argument Chen Muxue had made to him the night before. Because of that contract, Haoyuan Trading’s accounts had shown years of losses; no matter how well their business performed, they could never fill the hole left by that unpaid sum.

Shen Qingqiang now felt the burning pain growing inside him. Paralyzed, he could only blink desperately to signal his agreement.

Seeing this, Su Zheng smiled faintly and stepped forward to strike a series of points on Shen Qingqiang’s body, halting the spread of the internal toxin.

The moment Shen Qingqiang regained control of his body, it was as though he’d been dragged back from death’s door. The horror on his face lingered long after.

He was truly afraid now, the last of his bravado gone. All he wanted was to satisfy Su Zheng and see him gone as quickly as possible.

“Mr. Su… I agree to your terms. When would you like the transfer made?”

“Hold on a moment.” Su Zheng took out his phone and sent a message to Chen Muxue, requesting Haoyuan Trading’s account details.

“Hm? Muxue, that useless fellow is asking for the company account. I think you’d better not give it to him—who knows what he might do if he gets his hands on it!” Lü Hongmei, hearing the message alert, glanced at the phone Chen Muxue had placed on the coffee table.

“Mom, what could he possibly do with the company account? Please don’t always assume the worst of him,” Chen Muxue replied, exasperated. She felt her parents’ stubborn opinions of Su Zheng were practically etched into their bones.

“I’m just looking out for you!” Lü Hongmei muttered, aggrieved, before storming off to the kitchen.

“What do you need the company account for?” Chen Muxue texted back, puzzled—never imagining that Su Zheng had already recovered the project funds.

“For a transfer.”

“A transfer? For what?”

“The project funds. Hurry, I’m waiting.”

Reading this, Chen Muxue was astonished.

How could it be possible? The Chens had been entangled with Hongxin for almost two years, unable to get that money back, and Su Zheng had only just gone out and already recovered it?

The more she thought about it, the more impossible it seemed. She felt he was boasting again. “I really dislike it when you exaggerate. For a man, that’s a major flaw,” she replied, sending the account details anyway, determined to watch his boast fall flat.

Ten minutes passed.

Then her phone rang.

She assumed it was Su Zheng calling to explain himself, but to her surprise, it was the company’s finance manager.

A strange feeling crept over her as she answered.

“Manager Wang, what is it?”

“Director Chen, the Hongxin project funds have been transferred! Ha ha…”

“What? Are you sure you checked?”

“Yes, I checked several times—I could hardly believe it myself, so I even called the bank to confirm. There’s no mistake; Hongxin’s payment has definitely arrived!”

The finance manager’s voice brimmed with joy. For two years, that bad debt had left their accounts in the red. There had been no bonuses, and even normal salaries were a struggle.

Chen Muxue had no idea how she ended the call. The delight in her heart was overwhelming.

“Has the money arrived?” came another message from Su Zheng.

“How… how did you do it?” Chen Muxue’s curiosity surged, and she couldn’t help but ask.

“I simply requested the transfer. Shen agreed. It was straightforward. By the way, leave the money in the company account—don’t let anyone move it, not even the old lady. Understand?”

Su Zheng sent the reminder.

Holding her phone, Chen Muxue was filled with mixed emotions. For the first time, she realized how capable her husband truly was—a subtle pride bloomed within her.

Hongxin Tower.

Su Zheng had already left.

Shen Qingqiang, gradually recovering from his terror, rushed out of his office, sped downstairs, and drove off at once.

Before long, he appeared at a golf course.

After finishing her swing, an elegant woman turned to glance at him. “What brings you here?”

“Sister Lan, someone bullied me. You have to stand up for me!” Shen Qingqiang whined, his features contorted in grievance.

“Speak.”

Qiao Lan set down her club, her tone curt.

Shen Qingqiang was her subordinate, well-known throughout Qingyang City. For someone to lay hands on him was tantamount to slapping her in the face—and that, she could not tolerate.