THE REAL PROTEGE

"So audit me. Question me. But understand this —my absence wasn't abandonment. It was a transformation. And I didn't come back to ask permission."

Jack stepped forward, placing a sealed envelope on the table.

"Madam Ling Li's directive. Unopened. For Mr. Xu's eyes only."

Four Eyes picked it up, broke the seal, and read silently. Then he looked up.

"My wife has given me full discretionary authority. Effective immediately."

The directors stiffened. Mr. Shen's jaw tightened. Ms. Gao's fingers curled around her pen.

Four Eyes sat down again, calm as a storm before landfall.

"Now. Let's talk about the divisions bleeding talent. And the partners who think loyalty is optional."

The real meeting had begun.

The boardroom buzzed with restrained urgency. Directors whispered among themselves, recalibrating strategies now that Xu Chu Yan had reclaimed authority. The agenda flickered across the screen: divisional restructuring, partner renegotiations, and talent retention.

Then came the following item: Project Skybridge —a high-risk expansion into Southeast Asia, spearheaded by Ling Li's tech division. It promised exponential growth, but required dissolving several legacy partnerships —some dating back to Xu Chu Yan's father.

Mr. Shen cleared his throat.

"Project Skybridge is ready for deployment. We've secured preliminary approvals. All that remains is your signature, Mr. Xu."

Four Eyes didn't move.

"And what do we lose?"

Ms. Gao answered crisply.

"Three legacy partners. Their models are outdated. Their influence is minimal."

Four Eyes' gaze darkened.

"Their loyalty isn't."

The room tensed. Jack's eyes narrowed. The directors leaned in, sensing resistance.

Then, a soft sound broke the tension.

Kim Kim had slipped from the bench behind the glass partition. She tiptoed to the edge of the room, sketchpad in hand. Chin Chin followed, backpack blinking softly, as if sensing something sacred.

Kim Kim held up her drawing.

It was a bridge —delicate, intricate, spanning two cliffs. On one side stood a figure in a suit. On the other hand, a cluster of smaller figures —some old, some young, some holding phones and umbrellas.

"You can build a new bridge," she said softly. "But don't burn the old one. It still holds stories."

Silence.

Chin Chin added, "Mama says stories are stronger than numbers. And Baba says loyalty is magic you earn."

The directors stared, not at the children, but at the message.

Four Eyes stood and took the sketchpad. He placed it on the table beside the Project Skybridge proposal.

"We move forward. But we don't erase. I'll renegotiate with the legacy partners myself. If they can adapt, they stay. If not, they leave with honor."

Mr. Shen hesitated. "That's not standard protocol."

Four Eyes' voice was quiet, but final.

"Neither is my family."

Jack smirked, just slightly. Ms. Gao leaned back, her expression unreadable.

Then, one by one, the directors nodded.

The vote passed —with amendments.

Project Skybridge would proceed, but the legacy partners would be given a final audience with Xu Chu Yan himself.

Kim Kim returned to her seat, satisfied. Chin Chin whispered something to her backpack, which blinked twice, then dimmed.

Four Eyes looked at the agenda again.

"Next item."

But everyone in the room knew: the real power had already spoken.

And it had drawn its strength from innocence, memory, and the quiet magic of legacy.

Xu Conglomerate — The Return and the Walkthrough

After the intense meeting, Special Assistant Jack proposed a complete walkthrough of the company. The elevator opened onto the executive floor of the Xu Conglomerate's Shanghai headquarters — a panoramic view of the city skyline framed by floor-to-ceiling glass. The directors followed in a quiet procession behind Xu Chu Yan, their footsteps muffled against polished stone.

Jack led the way, crisp and composed, his voice cutting through the hum of the building's operations.

"This is the Hospitality Innovation Division," he said, gesturing to a sleek wing where digital architects and urban planners worked side by side. "Madam's team integrated biometric check-in systems, emotion-responsive room lighting, and predictive concierge AI. Occupancy rates tripled."

Four Eyes nodded, his gaze sweeping across the floor. He didn't speak much — just absorbed. The twins flanked him, small but alert, their presence drawing subtle glances from passing staff. Kim Kim scribbled something in his sketchpad. Chin Chin tapped her fingers against the glass railing, syncing with the building's rhythm.

Jack continued.

"Real Estate Development is now cross-border. Smart towers in Manila, modular resorts in Bali, vertical eco-villages in Hanoi. All built on your original framework — just scaled and digitized."

One of the directors leaned in to another.

"He doesn't look like a CEO."

The other replied,

"He doesn't have to. He built the bones. She gave it wings."

They passed through the Operations Hub, where live data streamed across curved screens, including occupancy analytics, construction timelines, and energy efficiency metrics. A holographic model of the newest resort in Macau rotated slowly in the center of the room.

Jack paused.

"This is the nerve center. Everything flows through here. Madam's algorithms optimize resource allocation in real time. But the original zoning logic? Still yours."

Four Eyes didn't react. But his fingers brushed the edge of the console — a quiet gesture of recognition.

Then it happened.

As they entered the Design Lab, a prototype model of a new hotel lobby — complete with kinetic lighting and scent-responsive flooring — flickered to life. A nearby console glitched. The hologram warped.

Kim Kim had wandered too close.

Chin Chin followed, her hand grazing the edge of the display.

The room pulsed.

A wave of static shimmered through the air. The hologram reconfigured itself — not randomly, but intuitively. The lighting adjusted. The scent profile shifted. The AI interface blinked and spoke:

"Welcome, Xu heirs. Calibration accepted."

Silence.

The directors stared.

Jack stepped forward, hand instinctively near his concealed weapon — but Four Eyes raised a hand.

"They didn't break it. They activated it."

Kim Kim blinked.

"It liked us."

Chin Chin grinned.

"We harmonized with the system."

Everyone "!!!!"

One of the engineers whispered,

"That interface isn't supposed to respond to anyone but the founder."

Jack frowned. "This… This… This is not supposed to respond to anyone at all without biometric clearance."

Four Eyes turned to the directors.

"Ling Li's security protocols were built to recognize not just identity, but internal energy signatures. The twins' cultivation is... advanced. The system registered them as extensions of the founder's profile."

He looked at his children — calm now, the glow fading. Deep in his mind, 'my adorable double trouble,' whom he couldn't bear to punish.'

"Let's continue."