pjbooks Chapter 18 Crisis Lurks, Expansion Against the Tide
Chapter 18 Crisis Lurks, Expansion Against the Tide
As the car drove out of southern Hunan, the scenery outside the window changed from lush hills to flat open fields.
Tang Muyang gripped the steering wheel, Gong Yiqing was in the passenger seat, and his mother-in-law Su Wanqing was in the back holding the sleeping Tang Zhenyang.
Tang Jianguo sat in the back row, holding his phone with a smile on his face, perhaps flirting with his lover Yang Liu again.
This trip back to headquarters is not a triumphant return, but a journey to a battlefield shrouded in smoke.
Tang Jianguo's fingers flew across the screen, and the corners of his mouth turned up higher and higher.
Tang Muyang glanced at him in the rearview mirror and said indifferently, "Look at you, so pathetic. You're completely lost without Yang Liu."
Tang Jianguo didn't even look up, just chuckled and said, "You don't know anything, this is called love."
He typed a line of text and sent it; his phone vibrated a few seconds later.
He clicked on it, and the roguish look on his face instantly softened.
"Look how pleased you are with yourself. What are you talking about?"
Tang Muyang asked casually.
Tang Jianguo cleared his throat, deliberately putting on a serious face.
But the smugness that couldn't be hidden in his tone was all there.
"Jiahui and Yanting are preparing for their wedding."
He sent two messages in quick succession on his phone, muttering to himself in a gruff but earnest tone.
"When...can we finally give each other a definite answer?"
After sending it, he scratched his head, looking a little uncomfortable.
He looked exactly like a rough man falling in love.
Soon, Yang Liu's message came back.
"You're so poor, good things come to those who wait."
"Once you stop being so talkative and stabilize things here, I'll go with you."
Tang Jianguo watched, then chuckled to himself in the back row.
"Did you hear me?"
He bumped into the back of Tang Muyang's chair, as if showing off.
"Your sister-in-law said you should treat your sister-in-law better."
"At that time, I'll set an example for Jia Hui."
After saying that, she covered her mouth and chuckled to herself.
Tang Muyang shook his head and smiled helplessly:
"I know, Yang Liu will definitely say: Jianguo's greatest talent is his sharp tongue."
Gong Yiqing pursed her lips slightly, revealing a "I don't believe you" expression.
She picked up a wet wipe and carefully wiped Tang Muyang's mouth.
The movements were gentle and natural, as if they had done it countless times.
Su Wanqing, who was in the back row, held her child and gently shook her head.
His face showed a hint of helplessness, yet was full of a kind smile.
"Young people these days, they're all falling in love."
"They're even more dedicated than when they're doing business."
She sighed softly, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
Tang Jianguo put his phone in his pocket and leaned back in his chair.
The smile on his face lingered for a long time.
He didn't say it aloud, but he understood better than anyone else.
This wild horse of his own was ultimately tamed by the willow tree.
Since Wang Li started working at Qingyang Industrial's Sichuan-Chongqing branch, she gets up early every day to prepare meals for Pan Ziteng, delivers them to his school, and then rushes to the company.
The schedule was very tight. Although she was busy with work, she was happy because Tang Muyang had approved the preliminary project plan.
After get off work that day, she went to pick up Pan Ziteng from preschool as usual, carrying a bag of vegetables she had bought from a street vendor, and waited at the school gate for a while.
The school gates opened, and a group of children rushed out, creating a lively scene as parents led their children away.
Wang Li saw the figure that had been gone for a long time—the child's father. She didn't approach, but stood quietly watching from a corner of the school gate.
Pan Xingwang called out to his son as he ran over and squatted down next to Pan Ziteng: "Did you miss Daddy? Little Bao."
"Dad! You...aren't as good as you used to be, not as good as that uncle!"
Pan Ziteng pouted.
Having not seen his father for a long time, the image of "Uncle Tang," who once brought him joy, stood in stark contrast to the destitute father before him in his young mind.
Pan Xingwang was once a well-known young master on this street. His parents ran several Sichuan and Chongqing hot pot restaurants, which were very popular.
However, after his marriage, his parents opened a luxuriously decorated new shop on a bustling street so that he could have a stable business.
Because he was too young, he mismanaged his business for two years, and the competition from other companies caused him to lose money and almost lose everything. He then became addicted to gambling.
Day after day, Wang Li was exhausted and felt that she was hopeless. After that, she gave up and took care of the children by herself every day.
With children around, they can't travel far and can only find odd jobs on the street, making life particularly difficult.
Two people who were once quite loving gradually drifted apart, with no hope in sight.
"Your father is a bastard. From now on, I'll come home to be with you every day."
Looking at his aggrieved son, Pan Xingwang felt extremely guilty.
"Xiao Bao, you just said that Daddy isn't as good as your uncle. Which uncle were you referring to?"
Wang Li clearly heard the father and son's conversation, quickly went over, and said urgently, "Xiao Bao, let's go home."
She no longer wanted to rely on the man in front of her, whom she had once loved, and she was also worried that Pan Ziteng might speak carelessly and reveal Tang Muyang's existence.
She took Pan Ziteng's little hand and prepared to leave quickly.
Pan Xingwang's hand, which was originally meant to hold his son, stopped in mid-air.
He was tall and had an extraordinary presence. That's life; one wrong step leads to another.
At this moment, he felt nothing but guilt and shame, and he was too ashamed to face his family.
He stood there for a long time, then finally caught up with her: "Lily, wait... I..."
He walked quickly to his wife and children, his eyes filled with guilt and unease.
"I... want to go home!"
He finally managed to utter those words, broken and hesitant, words of genuine surrender from the man's heart.
Wang Li lowered her head, tears welling in her eyes. After a long while, she looked up and sighed, "Which home...we're not there anymore..."
Hearing this, he, who was already feeling ashamed, was shocked.
Those words were like a blow to the head, leaving him with a tightness in his chest, yet he had nowhere to vent his frustration.
Yes, which home?
Is it the home where the hot pot restaurant used to be, or the home where the three of us are now separated and barely connected by phone and text messages?
He looked at the taut lines of Wang Li's profile; her face was much thinner and stiffer than it had been six months ago.
He knew that although she said "we're not there anymore," the outline of that "home" had never truly disappeared from her heart.
"Lily..."
His throat was dry, and his voice was hoarse, as if he had swallowed a handful of dust from a construction site.
"I know I've been a bastard. In the past two years... I haven't fulfilled my responsibilities as a husband and father."
He tried to reach out and touch her arm, but before his fingertips could even touch the fabric, she subtly turned away.
That dodge felt like a needle piercing his heart.
"What's the point of saying all this now?"
Wang Li didn't look at him, but bent down to dust off Pan Ziteng's school uniform.
His gaze fell on Pan Ziteng.
Xiao Bao was looking up at his father and then at his mother, his little hands tightly gripping Wang Li's clothes.
Her big eyes held both grievance and a hint of cautious expectation.
Wang Li finally raised her eyes and gave Pan Xingwang a complicated look.
Her eyes held scrutiny, doubt, and weariness, but not the word "divorce," which she had thought about countless times.
She took Pan Ziteng's hand and turned to leave.
"mom--"
Pan Ziteng suddenly grabbed his mother's sleeve, and reached out his other little hand toward Pan Xingwang, muttering softly, "Dad... come home for dinner too."
That one word, "Dad," brought tears to Pan Xingwang's eyes.
Wang Li paused, her back stiffening for a moment, but ultimately she didn't forcefully pull her son's hand back.
She simply said in a low voice, "It depends on how you do."
After saying that, she let go of Pan Ziteng's hand, picked up the vegetable bag and took a few steps forward, without turning back to stop him.
Pan Ziteng immediately ran and jumped into Pan Xingwang's arms, wrapping his little hands around his neck: "Daddy, please don't leave again, okay?"
Pan Xingwang held his son tightly, his throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton.
He looked up at Wang Li's back; the streetlights cast a long shadow of hers, making her appear lonely and stubborn.
He knew that the door was not completely closed.
As long as he's still standing, as long as Wang Li is still willing to let him see this home, he still has a chance.
If you take the wrong path, you have to bend over, lower your head, silently pick yourself up, find your way back into this home, and crawl back little by little.
The car's heater hummed softly. Tang Muyang watched as the outline of his hometown disappeared in the rearview mirror, his fingertips tapping unconsciously on the steering wheel.
When Gong Yiqing woke up, she handed him a bottle of warm water and asked softly, "Are you still worried about the follow-up funding in Sichuan and Chongqing?"
Tang Muyang took the water, his gaze deep: "Sichuan and Chongqing are just the outposts; the real storm is likely to reach Zhejiang's main base."
He recalled the images of Lehman Brothers' collapse in September 2008 from television news reports.
The credit freeze that can be felt across the ocean is silently creeping towards domestic entities along the trade chain.
My phone suddenly vibrated; it was Peng Jiahui calling.
Tang Jianguo answered the phone immediately, his voice so loud that everyone in the car could hear him clearly.
"Hey, Jia Hui, where are you guys?"
As soon as Peng Jiahui opened his mouth, Tang Jianguo started spouting nonsense:
"Let me tell you, your Zhou Yanting is very strict with you."
Unlike my Yangliu, who is gentle and sensible, you should learn from her!
He got carried away with his words and completely forgot that his sister-in-law and mother-in-law were in the car.
Tang Muyang, who was listening in front, kept rubbing his forehead in disbelief.
Gong Yiqing and Su Wanqing stood to the side, heads bowed, trying to suppress their laughter.
Peng Jiahui immediately retorted over the phone:
"Stop slandering me! Don't you see who's always glued to their phone, grinning like an idiot!"
After the two brothers exchanged some playful insults, Tang Muyang quickly steered the conversation back to the main topic.
The background noise on the other end of the phone was loud, filled with the sounds of metal being cut.
"Brother Muyang, I just got back from the building materials market. The price of rebar has plummeted these past two days, and suppliers are dumping their stock."
Peng Jiahui's voice was solemn.
"Zhou Yanting is also urging us, saying that the bank's lending channels have suddenly tightened, and our credit line may be cut."
Tang Muyang's eyes sharpened. He glanced at Tang Jianguo, who was resting with his eyes closed beside him, and stepped on the gas: "Shrink non-core procurement as planned. Cash is king. Wait for me to come back."
As traffic approaches the Zhe River, the huge GG signs still prominently display slogans such as "Buy a house and get a household registration" and "Now is the perfect time to buy."
Tang Muyang sneered and said to Gong Yiqing, "A false prosperity. The current market is very similar to the Asian financial crisis I experienced when I first entered the industry in 1997, but this time it cannot be easily resolved by policy support."
He pulled out his notebook and quickly wrote down a few keywords: cash flow, deleveraging, and ensuring delivery.
Back at the Zhejiang Water Group headquarters, the atmosphere indeed plummeted to freezing point.
Zhou Yanting waited at the elevator entrance with a stack of reports in her arms. This former assistant in Hezhou is now the CFO. Her makeup was exquisite, but it couldn't hide the fatigue in her eyes.
"Mr. Tang, the third-quarter financial report is out. Cash flow is 30% less than expected, and the banks are..."
Tang Muyang raised his hand to interrupt and walked straight into the conference room: "Don't turn on the lights, save on electricity."
In the dim light, the executives looked at each other in bewilderment.
A week later, Tang Jianguo rushed back from the Xiaoshui construction site, covered in dust.
The three closed the door, and Peng Jiahui slammed his fist on the table: "Damn it, some shareholders want to withdraw their investment, saying they want to cash out and go abroad to avoid trouble!"
"The construction site cannot stop; it's our reputation."
Tang Jianguo silently smoked his cigarette.
Tang Muyang paused for a moment, then pointed at the map: "Then let's cut our losses. Suspend the commercial development of 'Qingyang Xinyuan Phase II,' and only ensure the delivery of the residential units. All senior executives will have their salaries halved, and Yiqing and I will donate our entire salaries to the foundation."
Zhou Yanting brought even worse news: Although the central bank cut interest rates, commercial banks' reluctance to lend to private real estate companies has not eased.
The originally agreed-upon trust financing was suddenly changed by the other party, who demanded additional collateral.
Tang Muyang looked at the few remaining prime plots of land under his company's name, which were the "ballast stones" he intended to leave to his descendants.
"Protect."
He hardly hesitated.
"As long as we can get through this hurdle, it doesn't matter what the name of Qingyang Industrial is; what matters is that we survive."
The first snow of 2008 blanketed the Zhejiang River in silver.
Tang Muyang waited for three hours at the entrance of the municipal government just to meet a leader in charge of urban construction.
As he came out, the leader shook his hand and said, "Xiao Tang, it's not easy for you to stay and work on construction at a time like this, instead of running away."
A special loan originally intended for affordable housing has finally shown signs of loosening due to his persistence and the high quality of the project.
Tang Muyang exhaled a breath of white air, feeling as if his lungs were about to freeze, but a fire ignited in his heart.
Gong Yiqing did not speak at the meeting, but quietly helped Tang Muyang tidy his coat afterward.
My father-in-law, Gong Chong'an, called and said only four words: "Better safe than sorry."
Tang Muyang knew that this was the old man's disapproval of his radical strategy.
When he returned home, he saw Tang Zhenyang babbling in the cradle, and Gong Yiqing carefully wiping the corners of the child's mouth.
At that moment, all the loneliness and pressure found an outlet and a foothold.
Just after the Spring Festival, the market was in dire straits, with countless small and medium-sized real estate companies collapsing and selling off assets.
Tang Muyang, however, convened an unusual board meeting.
Be greedy when others are fearful.
He drew a curve on the whiteboard.
"Now that land prices have been halved, it's the perfect time for us to buy at a bargain."
He pointed to a redevelopment site on the edge of the city on the map.
"I'm taking this place."
The executives below were in an uproar, and Zhou Yanting's hands were trembling as she held the report.
In the summer of 2009, with the implementation of the four trillion yuan stimulus package, the real estate market bottomed out and rebounded, experiencing a frenzied surge.
Those who once mocked Tang Muyang's radicalism are now filled with regret as they look at the land hoarded by Qingyang Industry.
Tang Muyang stood on the top floor of the newly completed "Qingyang Center," overlooking the city.
Zhou Yanting delivered the report, showing that profits had increased by 200% year-on-year.
Tang Muyang shook his head: "This is just a numbers game. The real skill is to reduce the debt ratio."
It's that time of year again when osmanthus blossoms fill the air with fragrance. Tang Muyang gazes out the window at the dazzling lights that illuminate the night sky over the Zhejiang River.
He knew he had won this round.
But he didn't stop there. Instead, he picked up a pen and drew a line on the latest strategic plan, pointing out the route to cover Sichuan and Chongqing in the southwest and then extend northward.
At this moment, he had no extra emotional outbursts; he simply sat quietly, as if bidding a complete farewell to the "worker" of the past.
He recalled himself many years ago, helpless on a rainy night, a young man who once thought that losing love meant losing the whole world.
It turns out that fate had never abandoned him; it had simply honed him into a sharper sword.
The timid and subservient Tang Muyang of Hengxin Group is dead. The one who survived is the chess player who controls destiny and is leading his team to seize the opportunity and make a crucial move in the midst of the crisis.
One afternoon, while busy visiting various businesses in Zhejiang, Tang Muyang unexpectedly met Xiao Xiaoyan at an industry exchange meeting.
At this time, she was already a young professor at a well-known university in Zhejiang Province, standing on the podium with confidence and determination.
During a break in the meeting, the two exchanged contact information and caught up briefly. Tang Muyang was genuinely happy for Xiao Xiaoyan, seeing her current achievements in the academic field.
He realized that although the choice he made back then was painful, it led them both to the paths that were best suited for them.
This feeling did not turn into resentment, but instead became richer with time. When the exchange ended, the two shook hands and faced each other with openness and gratitude for the encounter.
At 8 p.m., my phone vibrated on my way home. It was a message from Zhu Xiaohui: "Brother Muyang, everything is going well in Sichuan and Chongqing. The Jiangbeizui plot has broken ground."
Tang Muyang's eyes felt slightly hot.
From Zhejiang to Sichuan and Chongqing, Sichuan is waiting for me.
Thanks to Hao Haining's overall planning and Wang Li's strategic planning, Sichuan and Chongqing have been able to move forward more smoothly and directly.
He replied, "Get ready, you'll be coming with me to Sichuan and Chongqing in a week, straight to Chengdu."
Tang Muyang closed his laptop, got up and walked to the bedroom. Gong Yiqing was already asleep, breathing evenly. He gently lay down and put his hand on his wife's waist.
In the darkness, he seemed to hear the roar of machines in the distance, a symphony belonging to those who strive.
In the autumn of 2009, Qingyang Industry not only survived, but became stronger than ever before.
He lay dormant in preparation for a better leap forward, and his journey is to the stars and the sea, as well as the road home.