Reaching the age of thirty, my income randomly doubled-Chapter 738 - 546: The Abyss of Despair
Chapter 738 -546: The Abyss of Despair
Within two days, Zhang Jingwen, who was planning to travel abroad, was stopped.
A notice came down stating she couldn’t leave the country, and the same applied to other executives of the financial platform.
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There wasn’t much explanation—just a direct restriction on leaving the country.
As for Zhang Tao, after discovering the truth about the situation, he led a large group to the platform to protest.
This incident was exposed by opportunistic journalists, quickly sparking a wave of cash redemptions.
As a result, the interest that was supposed to be distributed on the 15th was delayed until the 18th without any resolution.
Zhang Tao became anxious himself. His equity shares were gone, leaving only his three billion investment in the platform.
As long as the redemptions were processed normally, he could still have fifty to sixty million annual income.
In a few years, he could reclaim the principal in full, minimizing losses.
He would still remain a billionaire.
Unfortunately, things did not go as he hoped. Following Zhang Jingwen’s travel restrictions, rumors about the platform began to swirl.
Zhang Tao himself was utterly overwhelmed and didn’t even have the energy to deal with the fallout from his resignation from Tengsheng Fruit.
He simply wanted to quickly cash out the three billion principal, even if it meant forgoing the interest.
However, with such virtual investment products, withdrawing money wasn’t so simple.
That wasn’t even the worst of it—the real devastation came from his wife, who formally filed for divorce.
Zhang Tao seemed to forget one important detail: the wife he married was a lawyer.
She had tolerated him keeping a “Little Third” outside for one single reason—for today.
She had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike with a fatal blow.
The platform hadn’t crumbled yet, so the three billion investment in financial products still counted as marital property.
His wife was clever enough to present solid evidence of his affair with Zhang Jingwen at this critical juncture.
Her demands were clear—to split the marital assets in advance.
As the wife of Zhang Tao for four or five years and the mother of his two children, she naturally had a claim to half of the marital property.
Furthermore, Zhang Tao was the party at fault for the affair, which the court would consider carefully.
If this was just piling snow onto a winter storm, the next step would be draining the pond dry, forcing him into a dead end.
After years of meticulous planning by Zhang Tao’s wife, their marital assets totaled 570 million.
The most valuable among them was Zhang Tao’s 15% of Tengsheng Fruit’s original shares.
Unfortunately, Zhang Tao had used these shares as collateral for loans to invest in the financial products she had strongly opposed.
Zhang Tao’s wife directly requested to divide all remaining assets except for the shares.
This was the main reason why she rushed to file for divorce before the platform went bankrupt.
If she waited for the financial platform to collapse, causing an irredeemable storm, the three billion marital assets would be reduced to zero.
By then, only 270 million would be left to divide.
She was determined to assign the financial investments entirely to Zhang Tao, while she took the remaining 270 million.
Her evidence was solid, her reasoning clear, and the lawyers she hired were the best elite divorce attorneys in Capital City.
It could be said that the moment she found out Zhang Tao was having an affair, she began preparing for this day.
So, never underestimate the person sleeping beside you.
If you betray her, she will truly exhaust every means to deliver that final blow.
The only uncertainty she had was Chen Pingsheng’s stance.
For this reason, before filing the lawsuit, she specifically visited Song Yanxi in Magic City.
As women, they could understand each other better.
Even if Chen Pingsheng didn’t support her decisive retaliation, he wouldn’t confront her—a single mother—over his connection with Zhang Tao.
She was, after all, the mother of two children.
If Zhang Tao had lived his life accordingly, she would have remained a devoted and dutiful wife.
But, alas, he was not.
So she wouldn’t remain the type of housewife who only cared for pots and pans.
From a woman’s perspective, Song Yanxi could sympathize with her.
Nonetheless, Song made sure to call Chen Pingsheng in advance to hear his thoughts.
Chen Pingsheng had no opinion whatsoever—how could he act against a vulnerable woman like this?
Even though Zhang Tao’s wife had the upper hand now, all she had done was prepare thoroughly for this moment.
Moreover, the crucial fact remained—the fault wasn’t hers.
If she didn’t step forward now to protect her assets, who could guarantee that Zhang Tao wouldn’t seek another ‘Little Third’ or ‘Little Fourth’ after surviving this ordeal?
Women must plan for themselves, after all.
Zhang Tao was one of Tengying Group’s founding high executives. He was among the early team that helped Chen Pingsheng build his empire.
His seniority even exceeded that of Gao Hu, yet here he was, staging such a melodramatic fiasco.
Although discussing such matters openly within the group was forbidden, and sharing information in any workplace chat groups explicitly prohibited, it nonetheless became a major topic among Tengying Group staff during breaks.
It wasn’t limited to Tengying Group—even external journalists were relentlessly chasing this story.
This was understandable—divorces between the wealthy weren’t uncommon.
What was unusual was turning a divorce case into something resembling a palace drama from Betty Sun’s soap opera, more thrilling than any television show.
Despite everything, Zhang Tao was still worth five to six billion in cash assets.
If he hadn’t made such a grave misstep, he could have easily reached tens of billions in the future—a bona fide tycoon.
But now, he didn’t want a divorce, nor did he want to see all those cash and real estate assets handed over to his ex-wife.
Yet his ex-wife showed no mercy, even exposing familial scandals publicly to garner sympathy and speed up the divorce proceedings, leaving Zhang Tao with no room to maneuver.
This divorce case escalated further, implicating a celebrity financial entity involved in over two hundred billion in illegal financing.
The situation spiraled out of control—eventually, even Chen Pingsheng couldn’t contain it.
The primary catalyst was the financial company’s collapse, with countless people seeking redemption.
They all wanted to withdraw their money from the platform entirely.
Initially, it was one person spreading the news, then ten, then a hundred, and eventually, a thousand.
Now, it had escalated to tens of thousands collectively demanding repayment.
Amidst this overwhelming online sentiment, the beautiful CEO Zhang Jingwen was the first to be taken into custody for investigation.
The others were soon detained as well.
Wave after wave of company personnel were detained, until finally, the company issued a statement.
“I’ve skipped town.”
No matter how many explanations followed, those four words summed it all up.
The founder had fled—and in a mocking, nonchalant manner.
No one knew where he had gone, much like Zhang Jingwen’s repeated assurance before her arrest that nothing was wrong.
Once the lid couldn’t be contained any longer, it was time to flee before risking jail time—a move born of shrewd calculation.
The uproar online exploded, and the fallout gained unimaginably severe consequences.
A flood of people swarmed to blockade doors.
Ironically, the redemption storm ignited by Zhang Tao’s divorce case soon became overshadowed.
Unfortunately, Zhang Tao’s wife had prepared too thoroughly for this ordeal, while Zhang Tao could muster no resistance in his hastily assembled defense.
Zhang Jingwen ended up behind bars, and the wealth Zhang Tao had tirelessly accumulated over the years was wiped out entirely.
As for their two children, who they would call “dad” in the future became a question mark.
In late April, Zhang Tao stood atop this financial company’s building.
He leapt off.
Not even forty years old.
Perhaps the recent ordeals had been too draining for him.
He came to regret the love he thought he had for Zhang Jingwen, who was merely a plaything for others.
He regretted the love he thought his wife had for him, who not only failed to lend him a hand in his darkest hour, but had prepared months in advance for their eventual break.
He regretted the brotherhood he thought existed, but who avoided him in his most vulnerable moments—refusing to even look his way.
Life, how pitiful it truly is.
If he had known he’d end up here, he might have preferred remaining the humble fruit vendor of Capital City who couldn’t afford a home.
