Chapter 1007: New Year's Greetings

In the end, people still need dreams, as long as your dream is big enough...

Well, then you can live in that dream.

Take Zhao Fusheng himself, for example. He was well aware that if it came to a lawsuit over that five percent non-dilutable stake in Tencent, he would definitely lose.

It might not be so obvious now, but once the company goes public and more and more investment funds join in, increasing investment to protect one's shares becomes an inevitable outcome.

In fact, Zhao Fusheng himself planned that if Tencent issued additional shares, he would definitely increase his capital injection. After all, he had more and more money on hand now—the proceeds from selling the navigation website, plus two million shares of NetEase, and including the two projects, Xiaonei.com and Kaixin.com, not to mention the soon-to-be-listed Shengda Technology shares.

For Zhao Fusheng, what he needed was time to accumulate wealth.

The dual nature of things means there are both good and bad aspects. It's just that people are always greedy, wanting to reap the maximum benefits while desperately hoping to discard the undesirable ones.

Take Zhao Fusheng, for instance. He wanted to secure a favorable position before Tencent took off, yet he was reluctant to spend money, so he asked for that five percent stake.

As for non-dilution, both he and Ma Huateng knew that once the company went public, or rather, when Tencent began to raise funds and issue additional shares, it would determine whether they could continue sailing on the same boat.

At midnight, the New Year's bell tolled.

Another spring had arrived. Zhao Fusheng and his father went downstairs to set off firecrackers, while Li Yuan and his mother boiled dumplings upstairs. Fan Baobao and her sister Fan Beibei hid cautiously in the distance, watching Zhao Fusheng light the firecrackers.

Crackle!

Crackle!

The loud explosions of the red firecrackers rang out, sparks flying in all directions, flames scattering.

“Hope the coming year will be just as prosperous.”

Zhao Fusheng's father stood shoulder to shoulder with his son, the deafening sound of firecrackers filling their ears. After all, it was the Spring Festival, and there was no ban on fireworks in Ninghai at the time, so the holiday was quite lively.

“Yes, it will be.” Hearing his father's words, Zhao Fusheng nodded firmly.

The four of them went back upstairs and ate dumplings. Since it was New Year's Eve, all the lights in the house had to stay on all night. Fan Beibei rarely stayed up this late and was already too sleepy to function, so Fan Baobao and Li Yuan took her back to bed.

As for Zhao Fusheng's parents, his mother preferred to chat with him a while longer, while his father began replying to the New Year's greetings he had received.

In fact, even Zhao Fusheng's phone kept ringing, with people calling to wish him a happy New Year.

…

…

Dumplings on New Year's Day, noodles on the second day.

On the first day of the new year, naturally, they had to eat dumplings, and they couldn't eat the leftovers from the night before; they had to make fresh ones. Once again, it was Zhao Fusheng's mother and Li Yuan who did the cooking, and this time Fan Baobao wasn't roped in.

After eating dumplings, it was time to go out—those who needed to pay New Year's visits did so, and those who needed to work went to work.

It was the same for Zhao Fusheng and Fan Baobao. Li Yuan was taking her two daughters out to pay New Year's calls, and Zhao Fusheng naturally had to go out with his parents. But this year, Fan Beibei was very clingy with Zhao Fusheng and refused to be separated from him. Helpless, Li Yuan had to let her go with Zhao Fusheng.

He made a trip to the suburbs, had a meal with his grandfather, and met with several uncles and aunts. It wasn't until the fifth day of the new year that Zhao Fusheng finally had some free time.

During that time, Zhang Qian called him, saying he wanted to bring the younger siblings from the welfare home to pay New Year's respects. After thinking it over, Zhao Fusheng agreed.

So on the fifth day of the new year, Zhao Fusheng's parents stayed home instead of going out, receiving a group of children from the welfare home.

Calling them children, strictly speaking, they were already entering society or about to.

Zhang Qian hadn't brought the very young ones, mainly for fear of disturbing Zhao Fusheng's parents.

People who grow up in such circumstances are often more sensitive inside. No matter how strong and optimistic they appear, that inherent sensitivity is unavoidable—after all, they grew up under the gaze of others.

In contrast, adults who have already stepped into society are relatively better off, able to face everything calmly and talk about their origins.

…

In fact, regarding these people from the welfare home, Zhao Fusheng felt close to them, but he also understood that he could offer them more. In a sense, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

By helping the welfare home and giving these people opportunities, Zhao Fusheng naturally earned their trust.

As for whether their relationship would change in the future, that would depend on each person's character and the vicissitudes of life.

Often, that's how it is between people. Sometimes a talent scout discovers a star, makes a lot of money from that star, and in the end, the two become enemies, each telling their own side of the story.

In reality, it's simple—it all comes down to money and interests.

The talent scout thinks, “I discovered you and made you money, and you're still not satisfied?”

The star, however, felt that he had worked for you for several years, earning you enough money already. Could the debt of gratitude for being discovered really never be repaid in a lifetime?

In fact, in the business world, there are no good people or bad people; everyone has their own calculations. It's only human nature.

In the end, it all comes down to maintaining the right measure.

"Happy New Year, Director."

"Happy New Year, Uncle. Happy New Year, Auntie."

A group of young people entered the door and politely greeted Zhao Fusheng's family, bringing along some small gifts—handicrafts made by the children from the welfare home.

"These were folded by a few kids still in junior high. They said they wanted to give them to you." Zhang Qian handed Zhao Fusheng three glass jars, filled with paper cranes.

"What's this?" Zhao Fusheng looked at the item somewhat strangely, puzzled.

"Paper cranes. They say they bring good luck and peace." Zhang Qian said with a hint of envy.

Zhao Fusheng was taken aback, then a warmth surged in his heart.

The items might not be valuable, but the sentiment was priceless. They were just a few kids in junior high; perhaps in their hearts, their greatest wish was for Director Zhao Fusheng to be safe and sound.

"Thank them for me," Zhao Fusheng said earnestly.

At that moment, he suddenly felt that everything he had given to the welfare home was worth it.

At the very least, he had received the purest gratitude in the world.

"They're all good kids. Please, sit down," Mother Zhao said warmly to the young people.

There weren't many visitors—only seven or eight, both men and women, naturally led by Zhang Qian, with Fang Minya among them.

"How was it? Did the honeymoon go smoothly?" Zhao Fusheng smiled at Fang Minya and asked.

"With all the money you gave us, of course everything went smoothly," Fang Minya nodded, her face full of gratitude. "I'm sorry to have put you to such expense."

She was telling the truth. Because of Zhao Fusheng, her husband Sun Jun's relatives no longer looked down on her as before. Though they now practically worshipped her, they no longer dared to show the undisguised coldness they once had. Everyone knew that although Fang Minya was an orphan, she was lucky—the Red Star Welfare Home was now managed by the son of Wanda's boss.

"Don't be so polite, girl," Zhao Fusheng waved his hand with a smile. "Just work hard from now on and don't let down the old director's expectations."

The old director was, of course, Zhang Qian's grandfather.

Mentioning the old man, the young people's faces immediately showed some sadness. After all, they had all been raised by him. Now, as they were about to step into society, he was already gone.

"Alright, if Grandpa knew you were living like this now, he would be happy too," Zhao Fusheng sighed and comforted them.

"Yes," Zhang Qian also spoke. "He only hoped that everyone could live well."

Everyone naturally understood his meaning, and since it was the New Year, dwelling on such sad matters was inappropriate, so they quickly changed the subject.

A few girls went to help Mother Zhao cook in the kitchen, while the men stayed in the living room chatting with Father Zhao—though most of the time, Father Zhao asked questions and they answered.

Meanwhile, Zhao Fusheng and Zhang Qian had already moved to the balcony.

It had to be said, the balcony was a good place for a chat.

"So, how does it feel to spend the New Year at the welfare home? Not bad, right?" Zhao Fusheng spoke first, looking at Zhang Qian with a smile.

Zhang Qian nodded. "Yeah, no matter what, coming home is always the most comfortable."

Zhao Fusheng agreed wholeheartedly. He was the same kind of person—preferring home over the outside world.

In fact, most people liked staying at home, but for the sake of life, we had to make a choice: stay home and enjoy, or go out and struggle.

Whichever path one chose, there was a reason for it, because that was the charm of life.

"Rest a bit longer. After the fifteenth, we'll go back to the capital," Zhao Fusheng said to Zhang Qian after a moment of silence.

Happy days were always short; people had to return to reality.

Both he and Zhang Qian bore many responsibilities on their shoulders, responsibilities that wouldn't allow them to stop easily, forcing them to move forward driven by fate.

"Okay, I'll arrange everything in advance," Zhang Qian nodded.

He was always in charge of such matters, so naturally he needed to prepare ahead. He even had to notify Dong Chenxi and Zheng Yao in advance.

"By the way, there's something I need to report to you," Zhang Qian thought for a moment and said to Zhao Fusheng.

Zhao Fusheng frowned. "What is it?"

In his memory, Zhang Qian rarely spoke to him in such a formal tone. Although their relationship was akin to master and servant, Zhao Fusheng had never regarded Zhang Qian as a subordinate in his heart, but rather as a friend and family member.

And now, clearly, Zhang Qian had something to say.