Chapter Ninety-Eight: You’re Absolutely Right, It’s Blackmail!

Chen Muxue and Su Zheng exchanged a glance before following into the private room.

“Thirty percent—I want thirty percent of net profit!” Qian Liang lounged lazily in his chair, holding up three fingers toward Chen Muxue, his manner arrogant and confident. “As long as you sign the agreement now, I guarantee the Chamber of Commerce permit will be issued immediately!”

He pulled a stack of documents from his leather briefcase and tossed them onto the table, clearly prepared and determined to corner Chen Muxue.

Her expression darkened. She spoke in a low voice, “Mr. Qian, who are you really?”

“I've already said, I'm the head of Hefeng Investments in Qingyang City!” Qian Liang chuckled, saying, “Half the companies dealing in toiletries and medicinal herbs in Qingyang work with me! And I have another identity: I’m the son of Qian Yuqiang, Secretary General of the Qingyang Chamber of Commerce!”

Upon hearing this, Chen Muxue’s face changed instantly. Now she finally understood why Qian Liang was so confident—his father was Secretary General of the Chamber of Commerce!

No wonder their efforts had met with nothing but obstacles these past few days; they’d been targeted from the start. And Qian Liang’s appearance now, after so many days, was clearly intended to give them a dose of intimidation.

Chen Muxue grew visibly anxious, instinctively clenching her fists. She knew there was no escaping this loss today; Qian Liang was not someone she could afford to offend. Any company hoping to thrive in Qingyang had to abide by the Chamber’s regulations.

Even with President Jiang speaking for them, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t face retaliation later. In fact, this was a matter best not brought to President Jiang.

“Mr. Qian, thirty percent net profit is truly too much!” Chen Muxue softened her tone, almost pleading. “We don’t even know how much profit we’ll make yet, and the market is ever-changing. In the early stages, we might not even have thirty percent net profit. So, could you…”

“That’s not my concern!” Qian Liang waved dismissively, cutting her off. “If you don’t agree, you won’t even have the right to try! If you can’t get the permit, you wouldn’t dare operate illegally, would you?”

He lit a cigarette with his lighter, leisurely blowing smoke rings.

“This is blatant extortion,” Su Zheng said, tapping the table lightly with his finger.

“Exactly, exactly!” Qian Liang admitted without hesitation, pointing at Su Zheng and laughing boisterously. “Your description is spot on—it’s extortion!”

That he could so brazenly admit to extortion spoke volumes about how lawless he was in Qingyang.

“Listen to that—what a swagger President Qian’s son has!” came a voice from outside the private room. Three figures stood there: Chen Jianguo, President Jiang, and President Jiang’s assistant, the latter’s face ashen.

Just as Su Zheng and Chen Muxue entered, they had followed a moment later. Not only had they caught the conversation, but they decided to listen quietly outside the door.

“Shall I go in and teach him a lesson?” President Jiang’s assistant, a tall, burly man, asked in a low voice.

“What for? Is he your son?” President Jiang shot him a sideways look, his face stern. “Let his father deal with him—call Qian Yuqiang, let him see how lawless his son is in Qingyang!”

“Yes, sir!” The assistant hurriedly complied, stepping aside to phone Qian Yuqiang, telling him that President Jiang was here and urging him to come at once.

“President Jiang, must we really call Secretary Qian?” Chen Jianguo ventured, smiling nervously. The Chamber of Commerce’s leaders were not people his family could afford to offend.

“Jianguo, with me backing you, what’s there to fear?” President Jiang said proudly, indicating that Chen Jianguo needn’t worry. In terms of position and authority, he outranked Qian Yuqiang.

The hotel was close to the Chamber, and in less than three minutes, Qian Yuqiang rushed over. Spotting President Jiang in the lobby, he approached with a broad, ingratiating smile. “Ah, President Jiang, why didn’t you let me know you were coming…”

Before he could finish, President Jiang silenced him with a gesture, then spoke in a low, stern voice, “Come, let me show you a fine drama.”

Qian Yuqiang, puzzled, followed him over.

Inside the private room, Qian Liang was still bargaining aggressively with Chen Muxue, interspersing threats.

“Thirty percent profit! Not a cent less—no discussion. If you want to do business, fine; if not, get out!” Qian Liang was growing impatient, barking at Chen Muxue.

“Mr. Qian, taking thirty percent net profit is impossible for us!” Chen Muxue’s voice now carried a hint of tears; despair had taken hold.

“You don’t have to do anything, yet you take so much profit. We handle all operations, bear labor and operating costs, and invest our time and energy. If this won’t work, maybe I can ask President Jiang…”

“Don’t try to use Old Jiang to pressure me!” Qian Liang interrupted her with a sweeping gesture, scoffing arrogantly. “Old Jiang can’t touch me. Let me make it clear—even you, or groups like Longfeng Jewelry, who operate across regions, have to curry favor with me every so often!”

“We’re not Longfeng Jewelry,” Su Zheng said coolly. He pulled a coin from his pocket—the one he’d used for bus fare—and tossed it onto the table before Qian Liang, his voice icy. “This is our absolute limit. Take it or leave it; if you don’t, you’ll get nothing at all.”

He had originally intended to stay out of Chen Muxue’s business affairs, avoiding the use of his own connections. But seeing Qian Liang’s bullying, he’d decided he would not endure any longer.

If need be, he could call Li Yanze, and the matter would be settled in minutes.

Qian Liang stared at the coin, stunned for a moment before erupting in rage, pointing at Su Zheng and shouting, “Damn you, you ignorant brat! I’m telling you, you’ll never get the permit, and none of your companies will ever operate! In Qingyang, if I say you won’t survive, you won’t survive!”

“Listen, listen—what a swagger!” President Jiang mocked coldly from outside, hands clasped behind his back as he cast a frosty glance at Qian Yuqiang.

Qian Liang’s address of “Old Jiang” had already irked him greatly.