Chapter 3: The First Move

Over the next three weeks, Miaomei and Gu Yichen worked out a detailed plan to regain control of the Song Group step by step. The first step was to figure out exactly who on the current executive team was still loyal to the Song family, and who had been bought by Zhou Yingyue over the past three years.

“Based on the information I’ve gathered,” Gu Yichen said during a meeting in Yuelong’s private office, pointing to an org chart projected on the screen, “at least four of the seven current board members have received considerable benefits from Zhou Yingyue while she was consolidating power. But there are still three who I believe remain neutral, or are even unhappy with how things are being run.”

Miaomei looked at the three circled names: Wang Decheng, vice chairman of finance; Li Qinghe, head of human resources; and above all, Feng Zhiqiang, who had been her father’s right-hand man before he died.

“Uncle Feng,” she whispered, a glimmer of hope rising in her. “He’s the one who taught me my first lessons in running a business when I was a kid. If anyone has stayed loyal to my father, it’s him.”

“Then,” Gu Yichen said, “your next step is to meet him privately, find out what’s really going on inside, and persuade him to stand with you at the upcoming board meeting.”

The meeting with Feng Zhiqiang took place at a small café outside the city center, far from any prying eyes inside the company. When the middle-aged man with graying hair saw Miaomei, an indescribable emotion crossed his face.

“Miaomei,” he said, his voice trembling, “you look so much like your father, especially when you’re decisive, like that night at the engagement. I’ve watched that video at least ten times.”

“Uncle Feng,” Miaomei said sincerely, “I need your help. I know a lot has changed inside the company these past three years, but I believe you still remember what my father wanted for this group.”

Feng Zhiqiang sighed heavily. “For three years I’ve watched Zhou Yingyue manipulate the company step by step, pushing out everyone loyal to your father and replacing them with her own people. More than once I’ve thought about retiring early. But every time I remembered my promise to your father before he died, that I would protect you and this company no matter what, I couldn’t bring myself to give up.”

“Then will you stand with me in the fight ahead?” Miaomei asked, her eyes full of hope.

“I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time,” Feng Zhiqiang replied with a firm nod. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

With Feng Zhiqiang’s support, Miaomei gradually gathered more evidence of the financial wrongdoing Zhou Yingyue and her people had committed during their three years in charge: from transfer-pricing contracts funneled to shell companies, to siphoning off the development investment fund for personal gain.

But when word of Miaomei’s partnership with Yuelong reached Zhou Yingyue, she didn’t sit idly by. One evening, just as Miaomei got back to her apartment, Mrs. Zhou appeared at her door, no longer pretending to be friendly.

“You think you can beat me?” she said, her voice cold and threatening. “You forget I’ve been running this company for three years. The relationships, the partners, they’re all in my hands. You’re just a naive child who knows nothing about business.”

“Maybe I was naive for the past three years,” Miaomei replied calmly but firmly, “but since that night, I’ve learned an important lesson: never underestimate someone who has already lost everything they were trying to protect.”

Zhou Yingyue stared at her. A flicker of fear crossed her eyes before she quickly masked it with contempt. “Fine. Let’s see how long you last.”

After she left, Miaomei stood motionless in the living room, her hands clenched into fists. She knew the real battle had only just begun, and there was no turning back.