The Boardroom After My Father’s Funeral

After finishing my father’s funeral, I drove straight to the company.

At the entrance, a middle-aged woman with a weathered face rushed toward me with two children.

She dropped to her knees.

Then knocked her forehead against the ground again and again.

“President Song, please give us more time. We really can’t afford such a large compensation right now.”

I looked at her.

“If your husband knew he had heart disease, he should not have driven on the road. He harmed others and himself.”

“Our whole family relied on him delivering goods every day,” she sobbed. “He had no choice.”

My assistant Liu Yang leaned close and whispered,

“President Song, the shareholders have arrived. They’re making a scene in the meeting room.”

I entered the private elevator.

“What are they arguing about?”

“They’re discussing who should become the new board chair. Opinions differ.”

“Who did they nominate?”

“The vice chair. The president. Some shareholders nominated themselves.”

Liu Yang opened the meeting room door.

I walked in calmly.

The noise stopped.

I stood at my father’s seat and looked over every shareholder.

“I believe I am also capable of serving as chairwoman.”

One shareholder scoffed.

“Song Yunge, this is a shareholders’ meeting. Not somewhere a little girl can play.”

“My father held forty-five percent of the shares,” I said. “As his legal heir, I have the right to inherit all of them. Why can’t I attend?”

“If we let a little girl manage the company, it’ll go bankrupt in months.”

“If you become chairwoman, I’ll withdraw my shares,” another threatened.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll buy your shares.”

He slammed the door and stormed out.

I stood there, back straight.

“I know I am young. I know many of you do not trust me yet. But I ask for one chance.”

That night, as I was leaving, a clear young voice called me.

“Miss Song.”

I turned.

A young man stood beside the entrance.

White shirt.

Washed-out jeans.

Thin figure trembling slightly in the night wind.

“Get in,” I said.

He hesitated, then opened the rear door.

“Sit in front.”

He obeyed.

“Miss Song,” he said carefully, “about the compensation. Can you give me more time? I can’t gather that much money now. I’m willing to—”

“Don’t disturb me while driving.”

He shut his mouth.

His body sat very straight.

His eyes were full of pain.

At the red light, I tapped the steering wheel.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

I parked outside a restaurant and handed the keys to the valet.

Then walked inside.

“Miss Song…”

I glanced at him.

“I’m hungry. We’ll talk after dinner.”

“Then I’ll wait here.”

“Follow me.”

In the private room, he looked completely lost.

He carefully observed every move I made and copied me.

“How much time do you want?” I asked.

“Eight years.”

I laughed.

“Chen Jia, I’m in difficulty too. My situation urgently requires money.”

He clenched his jaw.

“My mother killed herself,” he said quietly.

“She poisoned the food. She died. My sister ate less and was saved in time.”

I wiped the corner of my mouth.

“Are you telling me this so I’ll pity you?”

“I’m telling you that if you force my family to death, you won’t get a cent.”

He raised his eyes.

“Give me time. I’ll repay everything. I can sign an agreement.”

“You’re eighteen,” I said. “Still a student. How can you guarantee repayment in eight years?”

“I’ll find work. Every month, except for living expenses, I’ll transfer the rest to you.”

“Even if I waive funeral costs, wrongful death compensation alone is nearly a million. That doesn’t include the driver Lin Mao’s family. Eight years won’t be enough.”

He lowered his voice.

“Then ten years. Or twenty.”

I looked at him for a long time.

“I can give you a job opportunity. I can also help pay Lin Mao’s compensation.”

“But you must sign a lifelong repayment contract.”

“Every month, aside from basic expenses, your wages belong to me until the compensation and interest are fully paid.”

Chen Jia stared at me in disbelief.

“Unwilling?”

“I’m willing.”

“Report to Weilan Group tomorrow. You’ll be my assistant.”

I did not know then that this thin eighteen-year-old would become the longest debt in my life.