Chapter Nineteen: Sparring (Part Four)

Within the Songyang Xingshang Bank, almost no one doubted or denied Wang Weixin's prowess in unorthodox methods. Everyone had to admit that Wang Weixin's unique tricks were no empty boasts. In the eyes of many, those precipitous paths as difficult as ascending to Shu were instantly transformed into broad, smooth thoroughfares after he applied his secret set of slick maneuvers. No matter how poor the operating conditions, how backward the performance metrics, or how chaotic the management of the Songyang Branch were, whenever the year drew to a close, through a series of unrestrained and unorthodox coordination efforts by President Wang Weixin, all unfavorable situations would be dramatically reversed. The most striking proof of this was that the Songyang Xingshang Bank could genuinely secure numerous colorful commendation plaques and substantial reward funds from the provincial headquarters.

In the past, Zhang Maolin often looked down upon—or even sneered at—the style of fawning, flattering, gift-giving, and banquet-hosting advocated by Wang Weixin. On more than one occasion, he denounced this practice at executive meetings as a typical case of "three-fingered thievery"—appropriating the operational achievements of others. Wang Weixin would always laugh heartily upon hearing this, saying, "Old Zhang, you simply cannot see the true face of Mount Lu. If you were in my position, your awareness of walking a fine line might be even more ruthless than mine..."

Never had Zhang Maolin imagined that Wang Weixin's once-casual remark would propheticly come true. Zhang Maolin had to admit that in daily communication and coordination with the various specialized departments of the provincial headquarters, the unorthodox and covert tactics advocated by Wang Weixin could indeed achieve unexpected results, and such results were currently of vital importance to the development of the Songyang City Branch.

Reflecting now, Zhang Maolin savored how precious Wang Weixin's high emotional intelligence and various marketing strategies had truly been. By comparison, he felt utterly ashamed of himself. On this matter, he had exchanged views with Tao Shouli on multiple occasions. Tao Shouli had been blunt: "When you, Zhang Maolin, served as the secretary of discipline inspection in the past, putting on a stubborn attitude was barely acceptable, and as long as you controlled the timing well, you could even use it to polish your image and prove your upright and incorruptible nature. However, as the top leader of the city branch, if you continue to harbor a heart full of fiery resentment, you will likely ruin your own future! To say nothing of others, even the several vice presidents at the provincial headquarters will require and expect you to make a new and different kind of contribution from a fresh height and perspective. Therefore, you must gradually soften, become compliant, and learn to proactively show vulnerability! Because you are already in a position of high authority, being a bit low-key and soft in words and deeds will not invite mockery; instead, it will make those who understand you feel at ease, demonstrating that even though you wield great power, you are entirely unostentatious and remain as steady as you were back then when serving as the discipline inspection secretary. Human hearts are perilous indeed! As long as those few bosses at the provincial headquarters look upon you with favor, and as long as the other members of the city branch leadership team and mid-level cadres do not treat you as an enemy, your future work will be as smooth as walking on level ground and as fluid as a fish in water!"

Beyond this, Wang Weixin had also repeatedly urged Zhang Maolin in phone calls from the distant provincial capital: he must cultivate a good relationship with Teng Deming, because the development of the Songyang Branch absolutely could not do without Teng Deming's overt or covert strong support. Zhang Maolin repeatedly pondered these viewpoints of Tao Shouli and Wang Weixin, feeling that he had benefited immensely.

...

"Hello, is this the bar reception? Tell the guests in the 'Mandarin Duck Fate' room to get ready; we are heading downstairs now."

Teng Deming hung up the phone on the bedside table and immediately began humming Teresa Teng's tune, "I Only Care About You"...

"Brother, where are we going?"

Hearing Teng Deming's conversation, Zhang Maolin was utterly bewildered. But he could be certain of one thing: everything that was about to happen had been meticulously arranged by Teng Deming in advance.

Could it be that Teng Deming hadn't arrived today?

Zhang Maolin pondered in secret.

"Life is short, let it drift by; the broad road stretches wide and I walk my own way! My dear brother, neither you nor I are the men we used to be. For the remaining days ahead, let us join hands to sing a song of the 'setting sun's glow,' starting tonight! From now on, your younger brother will call the shots in everything, and you, my brother, just need to 'play your cards' according to the rules!"

Teng Deming and Zhang Maolin walked out of the room arm in arm.

The third, fourth, and fifth floors of the Songyang Hotel were dedicated dining and leisure zones.

The "Mandarin Duck Fate" private dining room was located in the center of the south-facing side of the third floor. The food-serving corridor was in the northwest corner of the room, accessible via a dedicated elevator shaft. Before entering the main hall, one had to pass through a rather compact yet extremely atmospheric inner anteroom: both walls featured exquisitely crafted "double-layered relief" rosewood antique shelves, displaying various brightly colored porcelains.

Countless tiny, glittering sapphire-blue crystal pendants hanging from the dome-shaped ceiling reflected a soothing and pleasing radiance under the illumination of the overhead lights.

This was the largest private dining room on the restaurant floor, with an interior area of over a hundred square meters. Aside from the circular genuine leather sofas lining all four walls, there was only a giant dining table right in the center. It was a colossal piece of furniture over three meters in diameter, featuring a three-tiered layered design capable of seating thirty people comfortably.

At that moment, standing beneath the massive chandelier, Zhang Maolin felt a sudden surge of complicated emotions, and his steps began to hesitate. Had it not been for Teng Deming's firm pull, he would have genuinely wanted to stand rooted to the spot and carefully contemplate his current predicament.

From start to finish, the two men's tightly clasped hands never parted.

Zhang Maolin was far from unfamiliar with the furnishings inside the "Mandarin Duck Fate" room. Over the past few years, whenever a distinguished guest patronized the Songyang Xingshang Bank, Wang Weixin would invariably arrange matters in this exact fashion.

Zhang Maolin had once privately inquired of Bian Zeyecheng about the consumption level of this room, and the answer he received was: excluding the cost of alcohol, the maximum price for a single main meal was approximately thirteen thousand yuan.

Compared to the past, tonight's atmosphere was somewhat unusual!

Zhang Maolin first noticed that in the center of the massive dining table stood a giant pyramid-shaped "cake tower." The snowy-white frosting was embellished with vibrant lychees, strawberries, and some brightly colored fruit flesh that Zhang Maolin could not name, surrounded by a ring of colorful woven flower garlands. In a wine rack nearby stood two bottles of Rémy Martin and several cartons of foreign-labeled cigarettes.

"Please sit down, my dear older brother!"

In Zhang Maolin's eyes, Teng Deming's smiling expression tonight was unprecedented!

"Deming, what, what kind of game are you playing?!"

Zhang Maolin's heart suddenly leaped into his throat!

Clang, clang—the surround-sound speakers in the four corners of the room's ceiling began playing the gentle and melodious tune of "Happy Birthday." Immediately thereafter, three young women dressed in glamorous evening gowns gracefully emerged from the side lounge, jointly carrying a lit candelabra. The fiery red candlelight cast a glowing radiance upon the delicate, fair faces of the young women!

Zhang Maolin recognized one of them: she was the "leather-skirt girl" named Lily whom he and Bian Zeyecheng had met at a teahouse a few months ago.