Chapter 138: RAIN IN PARIS IS NOT ROMANTIC

The study was quiet for a moment.

Fang Guobin spoke first. "Patriarch, from a legal standpoint, introducing ShangYan at a family gathering before the documentation has been properly processed creates exposure. If Deyong or his children choose to contest ShangYan’s claim after the fact——"

"Let them contest it," Xue Mingzhan said.

"Reading the will while you are still living is also unusual," Fang Guobin continued carefully. "It creates immediate conflict. People respond to inheritance very differently when it is in front of them on paper rather than theoretical."

"I know," Xue Mingzhan said. "That is precisely why I am doing it while I am still alive. I want to see their faces."

Chen Wenbo cleared his throat. "Patriarch, bringing ShangYan forward at this stage, after so many years of separation — Deyong’s position within the company, the board relationships, the extended family — the disruption will be considerable. People will question your judgment. They will question ShangYan’s legitimacy regardless of what any document says."

Xue Mingzhan looked at him steadily.

"I know all of this," he said. "I have known all of it for forty years." He picked up his tea and set it back down. "I told myself I separated ShangYan from this family because I wanted Deyong to be happy, because I did not want conflict, because it was the sensible thing to do." He paused. "That was a lie I told myself. The truth is I was a coward. I owe ShangYan more than any family dinner can ever repay and he does not need any of this — he has built his own life without the Xue name and he is fine." He looked at Chen Wenbo. "In the end I am only doing this to make myself feel better. I know that."

Neither man said anything.

"But there is one other reason," Xue Mingzhan said. "Deyong has had no competition his entire life. No one to push against, nothing that has ever made him feel he could lose something. That has made him lazy and arrogant and small in ways a man in his position cannot afford to be." He sat back. "He needs to feel what it is to be overshadowed. He needs to understand what failure looks like when it comes with his father’s name attached to it. Both my sons are grown men now. Whatever they need to settle between themselves, they can settle it like men. I am done managing it for them."

Chen Wenbo looked at his hands.

Fang Guobin made a note in his folder.

"Which son are you passing the family headship to?" Fang Guobin asked.

Xue Mingzhan looked at him.

"Saturday," he said. "You will find out Saturday."

Fang Guobin nodded and moved to the next section. "The grandchildren’s inheritance. Jiaming receives the Kunming property and a fixed sum of eight million yuan, structured as a trust releasing in portions over ten years. Bowen receives the Shanghai apartment and six million yuan under the same structure." He went through the remaining grandchildren from Deyong’s household, each figure reasonable, each one carefully structured.

Then he turned to the next page.

He looked at it.

His expression shifted, just slightly, the controlled professional face of a man who had been doing this for twenty years and still hadn’t been prepared for what was written there. He straightened in his chair and opened his mouth.

"For Guiying——"

"Skip it," Xue Mingzhan said.

Fang Guobin looked up at him.

"That one we don’t discuss today," Xue Mingzhan said, his expression giving nothing away. "Move on."

Fang Guobin held his gaze for a moment, looked at the page once more, then turned it without a word.

Chen Wenbo’s eyes moved to the Patriarch briefly and settled back on his hands.

Nobody said anything about it.

Fang Guobin closed the folder. "Everything will be in order by Thursday, Patriarch. You have my word."

"One more thing," Xue Mingzhan said. "Once the will is read on Saturday, there will be people who want to contest it, hide it, destroy it. We both know this."

Fang Guobin nodded slowly. "A protection plan."

"Make two copies of the will," Xue Mingzhan said. "One stays with you as working documentation. The original——" he reached into his desk drawer and set a piece of paper on the desk, sliding it toward Fang Guobin, "——send it to this address."

Fang Guobin picked it up and read it. His eyes moved up. "Uruguay?"

"The person at that address will hold it until the time is right," Xue Mingzhan said. "You don’t need to know who it is. You only need to make sure it arrives safely."

Fang Guobin looked at the address once more, folded the paper carefully and tucked it into his folder without another word.

Chen Wenbo said nothing, which meant he understood completely. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"That will be all," Xue Mingzhan said.

The two men rose, exchanged a brief look that said everything neither of them would say out loud, and left the study quietly, the door closing behind them.

Xue Mingzhan sat alone.

He looked at the closed door for a long moment, then picked up his tea.

On the other side of the city, in an office that was sparse and clean with a single painting on the wall, ShangYan sat alone at his desk with a small folded piece of paper between his hands.

Little Tao had been told not to come in. The door was closed, his phone face down.

He unfolded it carefully and began to read.

ShangYan,

I found that restaurant in Lyon. The one with the blue door and the owner who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1987. I went alone because you weren’t here and the soup was exactly as good as you said it would be, which I will never admit to your face.

You were wrong about the rain by the way. Rain in Paris is not romantic. It is cold and it gets into your shoes and ruins everything. The only person who finds it romantic is someone who has never actually been rained on in Paris. I know because I was rained on yesterday on Rue de Rivoli and I was furious the entire walk home.

I found a book in a shop on that same street. I don’t know why it made me think of you. It just did. I’m keeping it until I see you once more.

Au revoir, mon amour. Not goodbye.

— Isabelle.