After His Wife Left, the Disabled Tycoon Stood Up - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Shen Changting Kept a Man Outside

To send someone who looks like yourself to an old lover’s bed—Chen Xie is probably the only one who would do such a thing.

What kind of thoughts was Chen Xie harboring? Perhaps it was that three years ago, when his confession failed and the ring fell into the pool, he searched for it as if his life depended on it while Shen Changting remained indifferent… They were never the same kind of people.

Shen Changting kept him for three years, likely only because he liked this face; it would have been even better if he could have been more obedient and not asked for a title. Unfortunately, Chen Xie couldn’t do that.

Tonight, Shen Changting didn’t accept Wen Li, which surprised Chen Xie slightly.

Chen Xie wasn’t used to speaking Cantonese. “It will be in your account tomorrow morning.”

Wen Li bowed repeatedly to Chen Xie in thanks. “Thank you, Boss. You really have the heart of a Bodhisattva!”

Chen Xie had Wen Li get into the car and sent him back. Once Wen Li got out, Chen Xie said calmly to the driver, “To the new house.”

“Old Lin, let me introduce a new job to you.” Old Lin was Chen Xie’s driver; he had been following Chen Xie back and forth between Hong Kong and Shenzhen for two or three years.

Old Lin didn’t say a word. He had a family to support, but Chen Xie had been truly good to him over the past two years.

Chen Xie’s body was burning intensely; the pervasive soreness and exhaustion caused him to fall asleep against the back seat quickly. When Old Lin delivered Chen Xie to the new house, he called out, “President Chen, we’ve arrived.”

“Mhm.” Chen Xie tiredly rubbed his temples and got out to go upstairs. This was an old-style tenement house in the Kowloon District, rented. Half a month ago, due to cash flow problems, Chen Xie had auctioned off his house in Hong Kong.

Chen Xie returned home, kicked off his shoes carelessly, and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing lean and firm muscles. He went into the bathroom to shower. After coming out, he hung up his shirt and suddenly remembered something, taking the business card out of his suit.

The card was black with white edges, very high-quality.

Chen Xie took the card out of the bathroom and stopped at the door of the study. He looked at the ink bamboo painting hanging on the study wall, which bore Shen Changting’s private seal.

This painting was given to him by Shen Changting back when he was an underground lover.

Every time he saw this painting, Chen Xie would remember those three years of a past that was both absurd and ridiculous.

But accompanying it was a piercing, heart-wrenching pain.

Chen Xie stood at the study door for a long while, placed the card on the desk, dried his hair, and went to sleep.

The next morning, as soon as Chen Xie arrived at the office, his secretary was waiting downstairs. She said the production manager from the Shenzhen plant had made a scene upstairs this morning, saying he wanted to see him; he had been calmed down and was now in the lounge.

Chen Xie went to see the man, who did nothing but complain about how hard the workers were working. He spoke about how workers are the primary productive force and how wages must absolutely not be delayed. Rumors were flying outside and had reached the ears of the production workers; the manager was under immense pressure and naturally came to the headquarters to demand a reassurance.

He spoke righteously about getting reassurance for the people, but in reality, he was worried for himself—otherwise, why couldn’t he suppress the workers?

Chen Xie responded, “Guangqi Technology has no precedent for wage arrears. Tell the workers to be at ease and do a good job of pacifying them.”

The manager nodded and returned to the Shenzhen factory with a smile.

Chen Xie said to the secretary, “Contact the auction house. I want to sell a piece of Shen Changting’s work; it has his signature and seal.”

The secretary froze for a moment.

Chen Xie: “The sooner the better.”

That afternoon, Chen Xie personally delivered the painting to the auction house. When the appraiser accepted the painting, he looked at Chen Xie repeatedly with a scrutinizing gaze.

Two years ago in Hong Kong, a story had circulated—Shen Changting was keeping a man outside.

The story didn’t spread for long, and no one knew how it got out, but the rumors were vivid. It was said that at the time, Shen Changting was supposed to marry Li Ai-qing, the daughter of the Shipping King. It should have been a union of the powerful, a grand event.

Unexpectedly, Li Ai-qing discovered a man in Shen Changting’s private residence. That man was beautiful and supple, more beautiful than a female celebrity. Later, because of this, the Shipping King called off the marriage. The elder Mr. Shen was furious, letting his second son enter the Shen family industries to learn the business, entertaining the idea of changing the heir.

It was no wonder the appraiser’s gaze was strange; this matter was an unsolved mystery in Hong Kong.

Furthermore, although Shen Changting was the chairman of the Calligraphy Association, his paintings and calligraphy were never given away, except for those in galleries.

This was the first time the appraiser had seen a work of Shen Changting’s outside of a gallery.

After verifying it was genuine, the appraiser asked Chen Xie for basic information, remittance methods, and an intended price. The auction house takes a commission, and the auctioneer gets a cut as well; Chen Xie quoted a higher price.

“Within five working days after the auction, we will deposit the funds into Mr. Chen’s account.”

“Alright, thank you.” Chen Xie left.

The appraiser watched the thin and lean silhouette. Chen Xie’s body proportions were excellent; his straight-cut suit trousers showcased his advantages perfectly. His legs were long and straight, his skin was very pale, and his looks were refined and handsome. In a suit, the way he walked was like a male model—sexy and good-looking.

The appraiser took off his white gloves and sighed, “So fine, even finer than a woman…”

Chen Xie sold the painting. On the day the money arrived, several HR staff and one from the finance department came to resign. They were part of the small team that had started with Chen Xie, and their resignation letters were placed on his desk.

It was all official talk—thanking him for the cultivation and so on.

The phrase “each flying their own way when disaster strikes” is very applicable in the workplace.

After all, who would really treat a company as their home? Wouldn’t that be foolish?

Chen Xie didn’t speak, only letting the secretary handle it. The secretary hesitated and also handed over a resignation agreement. Chen Xie pressed it under his palm, his brow furrowed, the veins on his forehead throbbing. “President Chen, I’m going back to my hometown.”

“Is something wrong at home?”

“No… isn’t it the age where I should get married?”

Chen Xie suddenly laughed, made a grand stroke of his pen, and signed it elegantly. “Go to the finance department and collect an extra month’s salary as a wedding gift.”

“No—”

“Go on.” Chen Xie handed the resignation agreement to the secretary.

That evening, Chen Xie had a dinner appointment with Ma Tianyuan, the CEO of Yaoxing Technology. Because products were lagging and capital wasn’t circulating, Chen Xie had sold a batch of old equipment three months ago and brought in new equipment. However, the precision of products from the old equipment was insufficient to meet requirements, leading to a large discrepancy between production numbers and order numbers.

Before the contract deadline, at the current pace, it would be absolutely impossible to catch up, and the liquidated damages would be an astronomical figure.

Chen Xie couldn’t afford to pay.

So he could only share the profits with Ma Tianyuan; with both factories operating simultaneously, the orders could be completed on time within three months. Ma Tianyuan was the type to hike prices on the spot; even while calling it “profit sharing,” Chen Xie would have to pay at least an extra 10%.

Chen Xie had made the appointment long ago, but after waiting for half an hour, Ma Tianyuan finally arrived late, followed by a man in a crisp suit whom Ma Tianyuan treated with great respect.

“Mr. Zhong, this is the Chen Xie I told you about.”

The man gave a gentle smile and looked at Chen Xie.

Chen Xie was a sharp person; he could tell at a glance that the man in the suit was looking at him with the wrong kind of eyes.

Sure enough, after entering the box, Ma Tianyuan repeatedly interrupted Chen Xie’s proposals. After a short while, he went to the restroom and refused to come back for a long time.

Seeing Chen Xie stand up, Zhong Yue narrowed his eyes. “President Chen sold a painting recently?”

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