flstandardbreds Chapter 1064 He really was right.
Chapter 1064 He really was right.
Feng Yuanzheng shifted his gaze away from Qiao Man, his expression resolute and devoid of any emotion.
He turned around, his back to her, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable authority: "Officer Zheng, please take him away."
As if grasping at the last straw, Qiao Man lunged forward and hugged his legs, crying out:
"Ah Zheng, no! I know I was wrong! Please forgive me this time! For the sake of the children I bore for you, please give me another chance to make amends!"
Feng Yuanzheng stiffened, but did not turn around.
The police officer stepped forward and deftly handcuffed Qiao Man; the cold metallic touch sent a shiver down her spine.
The cold whisper was like the two fiends who came to seize souls: "Let's go, Ms. Qiaoman."
A wave of panic washed over Qiao Man, and she struggled to say, "Ah Zheng... I don't want to go to jail..." Her cries faded into the distance and were eventually drowned out by the sound of police sirens.
The main hall fell silent for a moment. Gu Ze gently put his arm around Feng Tao's shoulder, silently comforting his trembling body.
Mu Xiaoji lowered her eyes, a surge of indescribable empathy welling up within her—
Back then, when did Song Ziheng ever show him any mercy? Even during the two years that Jiang Chengyu was in a coma, when did his aunt Song Lan ever think of their aunt-nephew relationship?
If it weren't for Jiang Shuo's boldness, meticulousness, wisdom, and courage, and his decisive action in the oasis area, things wouldn't have turned out this way in Paris.
By the time they used the lake's water to extinguish the deadly fire, he and Jiang Chengyu would probably have already been reduced to ashes.
Suddenly, Jiang Chengyu felt a warmth on his wrist and noticed his low spirits. He reached out and gently covered his hand with his own, the warmth of his palm passing through his skin, bringing silent comfort.
Mu Xiaoji looked up at him and met Jiang Chengyu's gentle gaze. The gloom in her heart seemed to be dispelled a little by that gaze.
Feng Yuanzheng slowly turned around, looked at everyone in the hall, and sighed wearily: "It's all in the past."
His gaze fell on Feng Tao, filled with deep remorse. "Tao'er, it's Dad who's sorry to you and your mother."
Feng Tao turned his face away, his eyes still red, but he didn't say anything more.
Some hurts are so deep that they cannot be erased with just an "I'm sorry."
But at this moment, looking at his father, who was old and full of regret, the ice in his heart seemed to crack quietly.
Sunlight streamed through the carved window lattices into the main hall, casting dappled shadows on the floor.
It seems to foreshadow that this long-standing feud is finally coming to a close and a new beginning is about to begin.
After a moment of silence, footsteps approached from afar, starting as a few scattered sounds, but quickly coalescing into a steady and orderly array, like drumbeats striking the bluestone slabs.
A group of figures entered the hall one after another, all of them tall and composed—some dressed in dark Tang suits with shiny buttons;
Some wore modified Zhongshan suits with clean lines; several elderly men wore dark silk mandarin jackets with subtle cloud patterns embroidered on the cuffs.
The group entered slowly and deliberately, their gazes sweeping across the room. When their eyes landed on Feng Yuanzheng, who was seated at the head of the table, they all nodded in greeting.
The elderly man with white hair at the head of the group raised his hand in a gesture of respect, his movements as graceful as flowing clouds: "President Feng, it's been a long time. It's been a long time."
The voice wasn't loud, yet it carried a profound and penetrating weight. Behind him, the crowd bowed in turn, each gesture carrying its own significance—
Either with all five fingers together and the fingertips slightly lowered, it's the etiquette of a seasoned veteran in the martial arts world; or with the palm slightly open and the fingers firmly planted, leaning slightly to the side, it shows the sophistication of a business tycoon.
Feng Yuanzheng sat upright in the main seat, raising his hand in a gesture of support: "You are all too kind." These two words, though brief, carried an air of authority.
According to seniority and experience, everyone sat on pear wood chairs on both sides, their movements slow yet deliberate—
The first seat on the left is occupied by the Governor, a veteran of the shipping industry; the first seat on the right is occupied by the head of the Chamber of Commerce.
Down the chain of command, those in charge of port cargo or ship repair were all deeply entrenched power centers.
The hall fell into an instant silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, with only the rising incense smoke from the altar.
The elderly exchanged glances, their understanding unspoken; the middle-aged sat upright, hands on their knees.
They exuded a vigilance that suggested they were ready to be called upon at any moment; the younger ones lowered their eyes and focused their attention, but their ears were perked up, not daring to miss a single word.
Feng Yuanzheng picked up his teacup and tapped the rim three times with his fingertips, a signal that the meeting was about to begin.
The elderly man on the left spoke first, his voice calm yet carrying immense weight: "Now that Chairman Feng has returned to his post, shouldn't the chaos inside the Hong Kong Governor's Summit venue be brought to a close?"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than someone on the right immediately spoke up, their tone resolute and decisive:
"The Feng brothers have been acting recklessly over the years, turning their club into a chaotic mess. Now they have brought about their own destruction, and their fate has run out."
Now that the chairman is back at the helm, shouldn't it be time to reorganize the branch offices? Otherwise, morale will be low.
Everyone chimed in, seemingly expressing their own opinions, but in reality, they were weighing their options.
When the topic of profit distribution came up, someone tapped their fingertips on the table rapidly.
When the topic of dividing responsibilities came up, someone picked up their teacup, concealing the expression in their eyes.
Feng Yuanzheng remained largely silent throughout, only occasionally glancing up and scanning the crowd when the argument reached a stalemate.
The oppressive aura of someone who had long held a superior position subsided like still water sinking a stone, instantly silencing the commotion.
Teng Zijing's eyes darkened, his heart churning: This was the kind of setup the older generation used to hold meetings in the martial arts world—
There was no tense atmosphere of hostility, but there was a silent contest everywhere.
There was no boisterous arguing, yet every word and phrase concerned a deeply entrenched power structure.
He gently traced the rim of the teacup: in the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he had already pieced together three parts of the turbulent situation from the seemingly peaceful conversation.
Teng Zijing's gaze, sharp as a dagger tempered with frost, swept over the seemingly composed elderly men at the table.
The gaze finally settled on Feng Tao's still sickly face, his eyes swirling with undisguised doubt.
A barely audible snort escaped his throat, and his mind raced with thoughts of:
"These old guys are all sharp blades honed in the midst of fierce battles, as cunning as foxes that have been around for a thousand years."
If the leadership seal were truly handed over to Feng Tao, given his current level of influence, it would be difficult for him to control these old fogies!
He tapped his fingertips unconsciously on the table, coldly observing the situation: "There's a reason why Feng Yan has been patient and dared not touch Feng Yuanzheng all these years."
The network of the Hong Kong maritime transport system was inextricably linked to Chairman Feng's prestige; without him as its backbone, it would be impossible to succeed.
Anyone who wants to control the entire situation must first consider whether they can subdue this group of deeply entrenched local bullies.
Jiang Chengyu's gaze swept across the table, noticing the gestures of the elderly men serving tea, and the barely perceptible glances from the corner of their eyes.
Even the knuckles that are quietly curled up under the cuffs conceal a silent test and contest.
What appears to be a calm hall is actually like an undercurrent beneath boiling water, where a sudden surge could erupt into a raging storm if one is not careful.
He suddenly turned his head and met Teng Zijing's gaze—two pairs of equally unfathomable eyes;
One pair of eyes, imbued with the coldness of business warfare; the other, steeped in the ruthlessness of the martial world. In the instant their eyes met...
It was as if an invisible chill was clashing in the air, carrying a sharp and icy edge that seemed to see through everything.
No words were needed; the doubts and wariness in each other's eyes were already clear.
"The seal of office represents power, but it cannot suppress the hearts of the people." Jiang Chengyu's voice, like an ice cube, weighed the pros and cons deep within his heart.
Looking directly at Feng Tao, he saw that Feng Tao's emotions had stabilized somewhat under Gu Ze's reassurance.
Inside the hall, undercurrents surged, but he seemed unaware of the turbulent waves, and sighed inwardly: "If Feng Tao wants to take on this responsibility, he must first leave his own footprints in this quagmire."
Teng Zijing nodded slightly, his gaze returning to the main seat, where Feng Yuanzheng remained sitting upright and composed, unmoved.
Beneath that seemingly casual demeanor lay an aura of power honed over decades, instantly silencing the entire room.
He sighed inwardly: This is the foundation—Feng Yuanzheng's cough can calm things down, but Feng Tao still needs a tempering in blood and fire to get to this point.
Feng Yuanzheng coughed lightly, breaking the silence in the hall. His voice was slightly hoarse but steady:
"I am sorry for the misfortune that has befallen our family, and I thank you all for your concern."
I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone—if it weren't for your concerted efforts, the club would likely have been destroyed during the days I was ambushed.
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone at the table, and continued, "Now that the turmoil has subsided, all we need to do is reorganize each branch according to the old rules."
My son Feng Yan has been executed, my second son Feng Zhan has been shot, and now only my third son Feng Tao remains by my side. I hope you brothers will take good care of him in all matters to come.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Feng Tao suddenly stood up. Although his figure was somewhat thin due to his lingering injuries, his tone was unusually firm:
"The position of Governor of Hong Kong should rightfully be held by a virtuous and capable person. I ask myself if I am worthy of the position, and I have never liked doing business."
Having spent years wandering the country, I've grown accustomed to a life of leisure and freedom, and find this position utterly unsuitable.
He looked at Feng Yuanzheng, then turned to the other elders, his gaze open and honest:
"I earnestly request that Father and all the bosses not adhere to the old practice of passing the throne to their sons, but instead choose the virtuous and capable as the right path."
The wise move would be to ensure that those in charge truly benefit the local people and that the maritime hub flourishes.
The hall fell silent instantly, and the faces of the elders all showed surprise.
They were used to seeing the ruthless and unscrupulous faces of the Feng brothers, Feng Yan and Feng Zhan, as they fought for power.
I never expected that this third young master, who is away from home all year round, would have such a broad mind and a sense of righteousness.
The elderly man with white hair at the head stroked his beard, a hint of approval flashing in his eyes:
"It is truly rare for Young Master Feng to have such a broad mind. However, this position of leadership is of great importance and requires careful consideration."
Feng Yuanzheng looked at his son, his eyes first showing surprise, then turning into a sense of understanding and relief.
He gestured for Feng Tao to sit down and said in a deep voice, "I understand Tao'er's feelings."
But this matter is of utmost importance; we'll discuss it later. Right now, getting things sorted out at each branch headquarters is the most urgent task.
Teng Zijing and Deng Zhouyi both looked at Jiang Chengyu at the same time, their hearts churning: "He really was right."
The atmosphere at the table subtly relaxed, and the way people looked at Feng Tao became less scrutinizing and more approving.
This seemingly calm suggestion, however, was like a pebble thrown into water, creating new ripples in everyone's hearts—
Perhaps, the future of Governor Marine can truly forge a different path.