Seeing the confusion in his father’s eyes, Xiao Liang lowered his voice and explained:

“Even though Tian Wenli only broke up with my brother today, she’s already been seeing someone else. That person is Yuan Weishan’s son—the one currently working in Shishan as Zhou Kangyuan’s secretary.”

“What?” Ge Minglan’s voice shot up in disbelief. “How could Wenli be that kind of girl? The moment she sees someone with better prospects, she jumps ship just like that?!”

Her startled outburst made Xiao Liang rub his temples in irritation.

He glanced at the tightly shut bedroom door—certain his brother had heard everything—then picked up the newspaper and pushed the door open.

Xiao Xiao was slumped against the bed, silent, the word misery practically etched across his face.

Xiao Liang handed him the paper.

“The Yuan Weishan mentioned in this article is Yuan Tong’s father. Don’t overthink it. She’s been aiming higher for a long time now. And right now, the Yuan family *is* the better branch to cling to. What happened to me just gave her family the perfect excuse to cut their losses.”

He paused, then added quietly:

“The only thing we can do now is make sure that one day, we’ll have the standing to tell them plainly—Tian Wenli was never good enough for our family.”

The truth was harsh, but it was better than being left in the dark—better than letting his brother drown in self-doubt and unanswered questions.

Leaving the newspaper behind for Xiao Xiao to digest, Xiao Liang pulled out a blank notebook from the desk, filled his pen with ink, and returned to the living room.

“This past while, whenever I ran into Tian Jianzhong in the city, he’d avoid me,” Xiao Changhua said, explaining some things he’d noticed before. “But whenever he saw Yuan Weishan, he was all smiles. I thought he was just being a bit opportunistic—that Wenli would have her own judgment. I didn’t expect… not with what happened to you on top of it all.”

“So they think our family’s finished and want to latch onto someone better,” Ge Minglan said bitterly, lowering her voice. “But what happens if they find someone even higher up? Will they switch again? And besides, they might be eager to climb, but does the Yuan family even think much of them?”

“That’s exactly why they rushed to spread rumors about me,” Xiao Liang said with a faint smile.

“And you can still laugh?” Ge Minglan shot him a glare.

Xiao Liang didn’t hide his smile.

Now that everything rotten had been dragged into the open, they had hit rock bottom. No matter what, it was better than letting his brother stay entangled with Tian Wenli.

Otherwise, not only would he be unable to settle old scores with Tian Jianzhong from his previous life, he’d have to grit his teeth and call the man “uncle.” That would be the real humiliation.

“Seeing people for who they really are is always better than being fooled by them,” Xiao Liang said lightly. “Look at Dad—he’s got things figured out now.”

“Your father, clear-headed?” Ge Minglan scoffed, though she spared her husband another look and decided not to reopen old wounds. Instead, she shifted the topic.

“When you were removed from your position, and Xiao Liang got assigned to a township instead of staying in Shishan County, I thought it might actually be simpler there. Maybe even a good thing for him. But I never imagined people at that level could be this vicious.”

She hesitated, then said firmly:

“I think we need to find a way to transfer Xiao Liang back to the city. Even if neither of our sons achieves anything great in the future, as long as our family stays safe and stable, that’s enough. We don’t need to compete with anyone. We’ll live just fine.”

Xiao Changhua said nothing.

It wasn’t just about transferring his younger son anymore. If Xiao Xiao stayed at the Municipal Economic and Trade Commission, he’d have to see Tian Wenli day in and day out—how could he bear that?

And in government offices, people were quick to flatter the powerful and trample the fallen. Two years ago, when Xiao Changhua was sidelined to the Party History Research Office, Xiao Xiao had already gone from a rising young talent to someone quietly pushed to the margins.

If his colleagues learned that Tian Wenli was now involved with Yuan Weishan’s son—and that Xiao Xiao had come out the loser—it was easy to imagine how they would treat him.

Seeing that Ge Minglan hadn’t even considered this yet, and having no solution himself, Xiao Changhua remained silent.

Xiao Liang, meanwhile, didn’t brush off their concerns with empty reassurance. He simply followed his mother’s line of thought, saying that transfers weren’t something that could be arranged overnight—it would take time, connections, and careful planning. It was already late, and he urged them both to get some rest.

After all, given his father’s current position, there was no way to pull strings quickly enough to bring him back to the city. As for his brother… Xiao Liang had his own plans, but those would have to wait until he’d spoken with him.

—

After his parents went to bed, Xiao Liang stayed in the living room, sorting through his thoughts.

When the county public security bureau abruptly halted Xiao Yujun’s interrogation at noon, Xiao Liang had already realized that the case wouldn’t be pushed any deeper—for now. Yuan Wenhai’s phone call had only confirmed it.

But Xiao Liang felt no anger. Not even resentment.

What he needed now was to carry this grievance—to bear it fully—because only then would he have the leverage to negotiate with the town.

Nanting Lake Juice Factory had been dragged through the mud by Xiao Yujun for years, burdened with tens of millions in debt. Yet its production foundation hadn’t completely collapsed.

Even after decades, Xiao Liang’s understanding of that factory far surpassed anyone else’s. He knew exactly what kind of first pot of gold lay hidden within it.

When he was reborn into 1994, he had considered leaving this mess behind altogether.

With the experience of his past life, he could resign from his government post, leave Dongzhou, and start fresh somewhere else. There would be no shortage of opportunities.

But he also understood something clearly: the starting point mattered.

Having a solid foundation—and access to resources—would directly determine how far he could go.

More importantly, leaving might be easy for him, but his father was already forty-eight. If he couldn’t shake off the shadow of the Chen Fushan case soon, how many more years would he waste in quiet frustration at the Party History Research Office?

And his brother—after everything that had happened—if he remained at the Municipal Economic and Trade Commission, constantly running into Tian Wenli, how much would he have to endure?

The tangled web involving Yuan Tong, Tian Wenli, and the fallout from the Chen Fushan case made Xiao Liang realize that staying in Dongzhou would only become more complicated.

But instead of discouraging him, it hardened his resolve.

Running away was never the answer.

He knew all too well that Fan Chunjiang, Yuan Tong, and Xiao Yujun—who might be released in three to five years, still sitting on tens of millions in assets—would not stand still.

They might even join forces with others tied to the Chen Fushan case, growing into an even more entrenched and formidable network in Dongzhou.

If he fled now, how would he ever reclaim justice from them one day?

Did he think that by building success elsewhere for ten or twenty years, he could return as some conquering outsider and crush these entrenched local powers?

Impossible.

The only real path was to stay.

To put down roots in Dongzhou.

To become stronger than them—to become the dominant force on their own turf—and grind them under his heel so thoroughly that they would never rise again.

Of course, the more complex the situation became, the more careful and calculated his plans would need to be.