Zhao Zhenguo stood in the center of the lobby. He looked around.

Plain floor tiles. A plain reception desk. A plain office building lobby.

His car — that black Audi A8 — was parked in a temporary spot outside.

He came alone. No driver. No assistant. Not a single bodyguard.

Su Cheng stood up from the sofa in the waiting area. Zhao Zhenguo saw him. He froze for a second, then walked over quickly.

"Friend Su?"

"Uncle Zhao."

Zhao Zhenguo reached out his hand. Then pulled it back. He glanced at the people in the lobby and lowered his voice. "Can we go somewhere else to talk?"

Su Cheng pointed to a meeting room in the corner on the first floor. "Over there."

The two walked into the meeting room one after the other.

The door closed. The noise outside was shut out. The room was small — a long table, four chairs, a potted pothos plant in the corner. The edges of its leaves were yellow. Clearly nobody had watered it in a long time. The blinds were half-drawn. Afternoon light leaked through the gaps, cutting bright and dark stripes across the table surface. A quartz clock on the wall ticked.

Zhao Zhenguo stood by the window. His back was to Su Cheng.

Silence for over ten seconds.

"I've seen the accounts." He finally spoke. His voice was low. "What Rui did… I know now."

Su Cheng didn't speak.

Zhao Zhenguo turned around. Only then could Su Cheng see his face clearly. His eyes were red. Not from crying. The red of someone who hadn't closed his eyes all night. A patch of gray-blue stubble covered his chin. It clashed sharply with his dark, neatly pressed suit.

"Friend Su. These accounts — did you give them to the Economic Crimes Division?"

"Not yet."

Zhao Zhenguo let out a visible sigh. The moment his shoulders dropped, it was like a stone pressed down for too long had finally shifted half an inch.

"But I can hand them over at any time," Su Cheng added.

Zhao Zhenguo's expression froze.

He looked at Su Cheng. His eyes were complicated — scrutiny, testing, and a trace of something hard to name. Reverence, maybe. This young man sat across from him in a plain gray hoodie. Relaxed posture. But every word was like a nail driven into his most painful spot.

"What do you want?" Zhao Zhenguo asked.

"It's not about what I want," Su Cheng said. "It's about what your son has done."

Zhao Zhenguo fell silent.

He sat down in a chair. His movements were slow. In that moment, he didn't look like the head of a billion-dollar company. He looked like an exhausted old father.

"My son… he's been spoiled since he was little." His voice was hoarse. "His mother left early. I raised him alone. I always wanted to make up for it. Whatever he wanted, I gave it. He wanted a car — I got him a car. He wanted a house — I got him a house. He wanted to join the company — I gave him a vice president position."

Su Cheng listened quietly.

"Last time you made that call, I still held onto a sliver of hope. I thought maybe he just made a momentary mistake." Zhao Zhenguo rubbed his temples. "Now I see. He wasn't confused. He went mad."

"Twenty-three million," Su Cheng said. "How many years he'll get — Uncle Zhao knows better than me."

Zhao Zhenguo's hands trembled slightly. The clock on the wall kept ticking. Each tick sounded like a countdown.

"If—" He struggled to speak. "If I make up the money?"

"That's embezzlement, not theft." Su Cheng looked at him. "Do you really think returning the money makes it go away?"

Zhao Zhenguo opened his mouth. No words came out.

But he didn't give up. He leaned forward. He pulled a business card from the inside pocket of his suit. He placed it on the table and slid it toward Su Cheng.

"Friend Su, you're still young. That plot in South City — I'm negotiating a joint development with the Shen Group." His voice dropped even lower. "Since you have connections there, I can set aside a one percent silent stake for you. Year-end dividends — five million."

Su Cheng looked at the card. He didn't reach for it.

"Uncle Zhao, you're offering it to the wrong person."

Zhao Zhenguo was startled.

"You're using five million to buy your son's future? You call this doing business?" Su Cheng's voice wasn't loud. But every word was clear. "Twenty-three million on the books. How much more in the hidden accounts — you know better than me. This isn't something money can fix."

Zhao Zhenguo's fingers tightened slightly on the table.

"I'll give you a choice," Su Cheng said. "Three days. Take Zhao Rui and turn yourselves in."

"Turn ourselves in?!"

"Voluntary surrender reduces the sentence. The court will consider the initiative and a good attitude. Under three years — with good behavior, it could be cut to under two."

"Friend Su—" Zhao Zhenguo's voice grew urgent. "I can have him return every cent. Not a penny short. Plus triple compensation. I'll cover every hole in the company — just keep those accounts buried…"

"The money your son embezzled — you can cover that," Su Cheng cut him off. "But the things he's done out there — you can't cover those."

Zhao Zhenguo's face changed.

He understood. The part Su Cheng hadn't said — he understood that too.

The room stayed quiet for a long time. Zhao Zhenguo leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. His eyelids trembled slightly. His Adam's apple moved up and down once.

The clock ticked. One minute. Two minutes.

"You're right." He finally spoke. His voice was so hoarse it was barely audible. "I can't cover it."

He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

"Last year he hit a pedestrian. He fled. I spent eight hundred thousand to bury it." His voice was slow. Like reading a verdict he didn't want to read. "The year before, he lost four million gambling in Macau. I covered it with company funds. And before that—"

He stopped.

"There's more?" Su Cheng asked.

Zhao Zhenguo didn't answer. His silence was heavier than any answer.

"I always thought if I made more money, I could fill every hole he dug." He said it softly. "But the holes only got bigger."

Su Cheng stood up.

"Uncle Zhao, I can delay handing over those accounts. You have three days."

Zhao Zhenguo looked up at him.

"Three days. Take Zhao Rui and turn yourselves in. That's the last bit of dignity I can give you — let him walk in on his own. Not dragged in in handcuffs."

Zhao Zhenguo sat there. He didn't move for a long time.

Then he stood up. He walked to Su Cheng, bent at the waist, and bowed.

Ninety degrees. Hands pressed to his sides. A man who had seen the world making such a humble gesture only made it worse.

"Thank you."

He straightened up. Opened the door. Walked out.

Su Cheng stood in place. He listened to the footsteps in the hallway growing fainter. Until they were swallowed by the noise of the lobby.

He walked to the window. He looked out through the gaps in the blinds.

The black Audi pulled slowly out of its parking spot. It paused in the middle of the road — as if hesitating. Then it turned and merged into the evening rush hour traffic. Autumn gets dark early. Tail lights formed a red river, flowing slowly forward. The Audi was swallowed up in no time.

Su Cheng watched the stream of cars. He stood there for a long time.

His phone lit up.

Sixth Senior Sister: "How did it go?"

Su Cheng: "He agreed."

Sixth Senior Sister: "You believe him?"

Su Cheng didn't reply right away. A white van passed in front of the window. A faded sticker on its rear window read "Kids growing up, Dad trying hard." The edges were already peeling.

He remembered what Master had said on the mountain. Parents' hearts are all debts.

Su Cheng typed a few words and sent them.

"He's a father."

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds.

"Fine. I'll hold for three days then. If he doesn't bring him in after three days, I submit directly to the Economic Crimes Division."

"Understood."

"By the way — have you eaten?"

Su Cheng paused.

"Not yet."

"I knew it. Send me your location. I'll order delivery for you."

"No need to trouble yourself…"

"Don't tell me no need." A cleaver emoji followed the message. "Your Sixth Senior Sister's coding hands are also the fastest at ordering delivery in the whole company. Hurry up."

Su Cheng smiled. He sent his location.

"Thank you, Sixth Senior Sister."

"Save it. And one more thing — if Zhao Zhenguo changes his mind, don't handle it yourself. Tell me. I'll deal with it."

Su Cheng put his phone back in his pocket.

The traffic outside kept flowing. The sky had gone dark. The city's neon lights were starting to come on. He thought of the well on the mountain. Warm in winter, cool in summer. You drew it up and drank it right away. It had a faint sweetness. Back then, it felt like a given.

Only now did he realize — clean things are never easy.

End of Chapter 5: Father