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墨書 Inktalez
The news spread quickly. By the time I arrived at the CEO's office on the top floor, the secretary's office outside was already buzzing with whispers.
Gu Chen was, of course, absent. He was probably nursing his wounds at home after I had put him in his place yesterday.
I instructed the secretary to notify all department heads and above that there would be a meeting in half an hour.
In the conference room, a group of old foxes sat neatly in their seats. As I walked in, their expressions varied. Some looked surprised, others were watching with amusement, and a few—clearly loyal to Gu Chen and my uncle Lin Jianshan—wore undisguised contempt in their eyes.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said as I took my seat at the head of the table, getting straight to the point, “from today onward, I, Lin Yao, will officially take over as acting chairman of Lin Family Group. Any objections?”
After a brief silence, my uncle Lin Jianshan was the first to speak up, looking pained. “Yao Yao, it’s not that I’m against you, but you just graduated and lack experience. A company this large is too much for you to handle! I think it would be better if Gu Chen or I helped you out…”
“Uncle,” I interrupted him. “My surname is Lin, while Gu Chen’s surname is Gu. When did it become acceptable for outsiders to interfere with the Lin family? As for you…”
I turned to him with a slight smile. “The South African Mineral Project you oversaw lost eighty million last quarter. Shouldn’t you explain that first?”
Lin Jianshan’s face turned crimson as he stammered, unable to respond. That project had been his pet initiative and had suffered significant losses; my father had already warned him several times about it.
I then looked at the marketing director. “Director Wang, last month’s collaboration with Brilliant Company—why was it suddenly intercepted by Gu Chen’s own venture capital firm just when we were about to sign the contract? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”
Director Wang broke into a sweat, his gaze darting away.
I called out several others closely tied to Gu Chen and Lin Jianshan who had clearly made mistakes or engaged in underhanded dealings.
Each question hit home, leaving them speechless and sweating profusely.
The atmosphere in the conference room dropped to freezing point. Those who had come to see me fail now replaced their disdainful looks with shock and apprehension.
“How my father managed the Lin family is none of my concern,” I stood up, leaning on the table as I looked down at them. “From today onward, this is a Lin family matter; I, Lin Yao, call the shots. If you want to work hard and deliver results, then do so. If you’re here just to coast along or undermine us…”
I picked up a pen from the table and snapped it in half with a sharp crack.
“Think carefully about your position.”
With that, I turned and left the conference room, leaving behind a group of executives who were now silent as mice. To fully take control of the company, mere reprimands wouldn’t suffice; I needed to deliver results quickly.
In my previous life, after my father passed away, Gu Chen had used the resources and connections of the Lin family to snatch several major projects that rightfully belonged to us. The most significant one was a collaboration with a top pharmaceutical company in Europe known as Noah's Ark.
This project was immensely profitable and was key to Gu Chen establishing his foothold later on.
In this life, I had to reclaim that lucrative opportunity.
I knew that Mr. Smith, the Asia-Pacific head of Noah's Ark, was a typical British gentleman—meticulous and detail-oriented—and he had a fondness for Chinese kung fu tea.
To curry favor with him in my past life, Gu Chen had spent lavishly on various expensive teas and even hired a tea master specifically for this purpose.
Unfortunately, he took a wrong turn. What Mr. Smith truly appreciates is not the expensive, but the authentic and professional.
I had done my homework in advance and learned that Mr. Smith would be coming to China next week for a final inspection.
I sent Mr. Smith an email, not discussing collaboration, but instead fluently exploring the craftsmanship of Song Dynasty Jian Zhan and the essence of the Tea Pouring Technique. I attached a photo of a Song Dynasty Yao Bian Tianmu Lamp that has been passed down in my family, which I had taken myself.
After sending the email, it seemed to vanish into thin air.
But I wasn't anxious. I knew Mr. Smith would definitely be interested.
Sure enough, two days later, I received a reply from Mr. Smith's assistant, who politely expressed Mr. Smith's interest in Jian Zhan and inquired if there was an opportunity for a visit.
The fish had taken the bait.
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