At Mo Corporation, Mo Ran sat at his desk, his paperwork pushed aside, all his focus on the CEO of Dream Entertainnt. It had been over fifty minutes, and he still hadn’t managed to convince Cheng Zhenyuan to sell the company to him.
"My business is thriving," Cheng Zhenyuan said with a sharp edge in his voice. "Why on earth would I sell it? Mo Ran, do you have so sort of ulterior motive?"
"..."
"Cheng Zhenyuan," Mo Ran replied, his tone asured, "what ulterior motive could I possibly have? I simply want Dream Entertainnt. Surely, there’s sothing you desire in return?"
Cheng Zhenyuan stroked his chin, his eyes glinting with thought. He knew the Mo family
was heavily connected to the firearms trade and had ties to the governnt. If he could leverage that...
"Alright," Cheng Zhenyuan said finally. "I currently hold 46% of Dream Entertainnt’s shares, which makes the CEO. If you can acquire 50% more shares, I’ll step down and beco Vice President with 30% shares—and you give access to your firearms connections. Do that, and Dream Entertainnt is yours."
Mo Ran’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his eyes remained cold and calculating. "Fifty percent of Dream’s shares and access to the Mo family’s firearm trade? Zhenyuan, you don’t lack ambition, I’ll give you that. But..." He leaned back, his tone turning casual, almost dismissive. "Giving you full access to sothing as critical as the Mo family’s trade network... That’s asking for the moon. Even you know that’s a line I can’t cross."
Cheng Zhenyuan’s eyes narrowed, but he kept his expression composed. "So, you’re backing out already? I thought you wanted Dream Entertainnt badly enough to negotiate. Or was that all talk, Mo Ran?"
A chuckle escaped Mo Ran’s lips, low and dangerous. "Who said anything about backing out? I simply think we need to redefine access." He leaned forward again, his fingers lightly drumming against the armrest. "I’ll give you what you want, but just enough to whet your appetite. Limited access to the Mo family’s secondary supply chains—just the tip of the iceberg. Enough to satisfy your curiosity but not enough to compromise my family’s core operations."
Cheng Zhenyuan’s expression darkened slightly, though he quickly masked his frustration. "You’re offering crumbs, Mo Ran. Do you think I’d settle for so little?"
"You should," Mo Ran said smoothly, his tone as sharp as a blade. "After all, the Mo family’s ’crumbs’ are worth more than most empires. And let’s not forget—this isn’t just about what you gain. It’s about what you stand to lose if you refuse."
Zhenyuan’s eyes flickered, his grip on the armrest tightening for a brief mont before he forced a smile. "Fine. Limited access it is. But you’d better make good on your promise, Mo Ran. If I step down and hand you Dream Entertainnt, I expect results."
"Of course," Mo Ran replied, rising from his seat with an air of finality. "I never disappoint, Zhenyuan. You’ll get exactly what you deserve."
As he adjusted his cuffs and prepared to leave, he cast a glance over his shoulder, his gaze cool and unreadable. "Pleasure doing business with you, Zhenyuan. Let’s see who cos out on top."
When the door closed behind him, Cheng Zhenyuan let out a slow breath, his expression clouded. He knew Mo Ran too well to take his words at face value. The man was a fox—a sly predator who never gave without taking sothing greater in return.
Staring out the window at the city skyline, Zhenyuan muttered under his breath, "You think you’ve outmaneuvered , Mo Ran? Ah!"
As soon as Mo Ran returned back to the office, he leaned back into the leather chair, tapping the intercom with a quiet deliberation. "Little Bao, co to my office."
Monts later, the door swung open, and a young man in a sharp suit entered. Despite his youthful features, his eyes held a mixture of caution and loyalty—traits Mo Ran demanded from everyone around him. "Boss, what do you need?"
Mo Ran’s gaze flicked toward the sprawling cityscape beyond his floor-to-ceiling windows before returning to Little Bao. His voice was calm, yet the undercurrent of command was unmistakable. "Prepare a ’gift’ for the shareholders of Dream Entertainnt. Sothing elegant but persuasive. And make sure they understand what’s being offered is a one-ti opportunity."
Little Bao, already scribbling in his notepad, hesitated briefly. "You’re planning to acquire their shares, sir?"
Mo Ran’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it. "Yes. All of them. But subtly. If anyone refuses to sell, don’t press too hard—at least not yet. Instead, pass their details to directly. I’ll handle them myself."
Little Bao glanced up, his pen poised in midair. "Do you have a specific strategy in mind, sir? Dream’s shareholders are notoriously stubborn. So might resist for the sake of pride."
Mo Ran’s smile widened, his tone turning colder. "Everyone has a price, Little Bao. Pride included. We’ll find out what theirs is soon enough." He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. "But be careful. I don’t want this acquisition linked to —not officially. Keep everything clean."
Little Bao nodded swiftly, understanding the weight of the instruction. "And the reason for this acquisition, sir? Is it because of Cheng Zhenyuan?"
Mo Ran’s expression shifted for a brief mont, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Cheng Zhenyuan? No. He’s a convenient excuse, but not the reason." He leaned back again, his voice dropping into a quieter, almost contemplative tone. "This is about my little doll."
Little Bao blinked, clearly surprised. "The madam?"
Mo Ran’s gaze darkened, his fingers drumming lightly on the desk. "She thinks she can hide from , running into the shadows of Dream Entertainnt. But there’s nowhere she can go that I won’t find her." His voice sharpened, cutting through the air like steel. "Dream Entertainnt is her stage now, and if she insists on playing gas, I’ll make sure I’m the one controlling the entire theater."
Little Bao hesitated, then nodded firmly. "Understood, sir. I’ll arrange the gifts and begin contacting the shareholders imdiately. Is there anything else?"
"Yes." Mo Ran’s tone was chillingly soft, yet unmistakably final. "Once I have control of Dream, I want my wife’s movents reported directly to . No exceptions. Whether she sings, dances, or simply breathes, I want to know."
Little Bao bowed slightly before retreating, leaving Mo Ran alone with his thoughts. The office fell into silence, broken only by the faint hum of the city below.
Mo Ran turned his chair to face the window, his sharp eyes glinting with purpose. "Lixue," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You can wear all the masks you want, but you’ll find out soon enough... There’s no hiding from ."
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