Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 934: Fortunate and Unfortunate (1)

As Luo Qiu once again observed the exaggerated Buddha statue in the lobby of the Chinatown Chamber of Commerce building, he suddenly asked with curiosity, “So, this statue was arranged by Mr. Blind?”

The statue’s placement was somewhat unusual, as was the "Gate of Life" in the chamber’s building.

“The statue wasn’t his doing, but it was set up by a friend of his from Southeast Asia,” Song Haoran said as he lit some incense. “Mr. Blind often says that Buddhism and Taoism stem from the same origin, so even though he looks like a Taoist, he doesn’t reject Buddhist elements at all.”

“You seem to believe in these things quite a bit,” Luo Qiu remarked, glancing again at the statue.

At this moment, Song Haoran clasped his hands together with the lit sandalwood incense held between his fingers. He closed his eyes and bowed a few times in a devout manner before placing the incense in the censer.

“I actually don’t believe in this stuff,” Song Haoran laughed lightly. “If there is a god in this world, it has to be myself. Only I can achieve the impossible for myself. So, in essence, I am worshipping myself.”

Luo Qiu looked at him thoughtfully and then said, “True enough. Only by having one’s own god in their heart can a person become unstoppable.”

Song Haoran was pleased that Luo Qiu didn’t dismiss his confidence and studied Luo Qiu in return. “And you? Who is the god in your heart?”

This question left Luo Qiu momentarily stumped. After thinking about it carefully, he replied uncertainly, “Probably myself as well.”

Song Haoran didn’t probe further but responded calmly, “Let’s wait here for Bai Shuitang to come down.”He walked toward the lounge area of the chamber’s lobby.

Luo Qiu watched Song Haoran’s back, and it was as if he could see a faint, colossal silhouette enveloping Song Haoran at all times.

“A god truly does reside within him.”

…

“Second Uncle, what do you think?” Song Ying asked Bai Shuitang directly.

Unlike Song Haoran or Song Tianyou’s formal attitude toward Bai Shuitang, Song Ying was more affectionate with him—after all, Bai Shuitang was her father’s younger brother. Though her father had married into the Song family, he still represented the Bai family on his side.

While Song Ying didn’t feel as close to Bai Shuitang as Old Master Song and Song Haoran, she still remembered things from her childhood—Bai Shuitang had indeed treated her very well back then.

Yet, Song Ying didn’t interact much with the rest of the Bai family.

With few outsiders in the office, Bai Shuitang relaxed a bit. “Xiaoying, you say this accountant You falsified the accounts for Chinatown and has now absconded with the funds… Are you sure there’s no mistake?”

Song Ying had no intention of dragging out the conversation with Bai Shuitang. The group had plenty of issues to address, so she replied directly, “There’s no mistake about the escape, and I personally uncovered the false accounts. If You wasn’t guilty, why did all the files on his computer vanish the moment he disappeared?”

“Hmm… You’ve got a point,” Bai Shuitang nodded. “But this is all so sudden, I wasn’t prepared.”

“No problem. We can fill in the gaps later,” Song Ying said decisively. “For now, just bring over all the records we have. I’ll review them here.”

“Right now?” Bai Shuitang frowned slightly.

Song Ying asked, “What’s the problem, Second Uncle?”

Bai Shuitang shook his head, “It’s just that I’m concerned it might be too much for you… But if you’re confident, I believe in you. After all, you’ve been a mental calculation prodigy since you were little.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you, Second Uncle,” Song Ying smiled faintly.

“I’ll have someone bring the records. Just wait here,” Bai Shuitang said. “By the way, why not wait here while I go greet the young master?”

Song Ying waved her hand, “It’s fine, go keep my uncle company. Just leave someone to fetch the records. If I have any questions, I’ll ask you later.”

“Sure, as you wish.” Bai Shuitang nodded. He soon sent his secretary to lead Song Ying and her group to the chamber’s finance department.

Once the office was empty, Bai Shuitang’s face darkened. “Why is this girl here too?”

His plans had started to change, beginning with his encounter with Luo Qiu at the Cold Residence.

Initially, he believed that by removing Song Tianyou, Song Haoran, and Song Ying, he’d have a strong chance to seize control of the Song family’s assets—the colossal Song Dynasty Group.

But the unexpected appearance of Luo Qiu at the Cold Residence had made him wary.

If the Song family had another direct male descendant like Luo Qiu, could it mean there were others with even stronger claims?

Considering this possibility, Bai Shuitang adjusted his plans. Rather than letting another hidden heir inherit the Song Dynasty’s wealth, he thought it better to align with Song Ying.

If Song Ying took full control of the Song Dynasty, his position as her uncle would grant him influence. And if Song Ying could also control the mysterious power known as “Iris” from the Song family’s hidden village…

“Let’s see if Basil can take down Song Haoran today.” Bai Shuitang allowed a cold smile to slip, adjusted his clothing, and hurried to the chamber’s lobby.

…

When Bai Shuitang arrived at the lounge, he found Song Haoran looking very pleased and curiously asked, “Young Master, something good happened?”

Seeing Bai Shuitang, Song Haoran motioned for him to sit. “President Bai, your information was spot-on. O’Neil just reported that our men stormed the lair of those traitors, killed two, and captured two. How could I not be pleased?”

“This is indeed excellent news!” Bai Shuitang’s spirits lifted. “The old master always said the young master would handle things smoothly. Seems he was right.”

Song Haoran laughed heartily. “Yes, with this success, even fate is on our side. It’s a pity Basil wasn’t found, though. I guess luck was on his side this time.”

“Since we’ve captured two of them alive, we’ll be able to extract Basil’s whereabouts. We can take our time,” Bai Shuitang replied nonchalantly.

“I thought the same,” Song Haoran said confidently. “For now, Basil is a rat in hiding. President Bai, we can celebrate… Did you handle Song Ying’s matter?”

“It’s arranged, don’t worry,” Bai Shuitang whispered. “By the way, the Red Tower is ready… Shall we?”

“Let’s go together!” Song Haoran slapped his thigh. “President Bai, don’t forget, if the girls aren’t up to standard, you’ll pay the price!”

“Of course!” Bai Shuitang laughed, “If they’re unsatisfactory, I’ll down a bottle of Maotai myself.”

“Bold! I like that,” Song Haoran chuckled, slapping Bai Shuitang on the shoulder as they left.

Song Haoran’s reputation as a lover of wine and women was well-known. Bai Shuitang squinted, laughing in agreement as he followed.

…

In a small meeting room at the finance department of the chamber building.

The secretary placed a stack of thick account books before Song Ying. “Miss Ying, here are the records for the entire last year. We’re organizing the rest.”

Song Ying nodded, then glanced at the secretary, noticing that her neckline seemed a bit low, but she didn't comment, merely responding with a mild "Hmm."

Song Ying opened one of the ledgers, briefly glancing at it, though her hand on the calculator suddenly paused as if she remembered something. She looked over at Song Da, seated against the wall. "Song Da, do you think traditional medicine works for stomach pain?"

Song Da opened his eyes, looking surprised, and replied awkwardly, "Well… Miss Ying, maybe you should ask the lady at home about that?"

"What are you saying?! I'm talking about regular stomach pain, not whatever you're thinking! Pervert!" Song Ying glared at him fiercely.

“Would it have killed you to say it was Young Master Qiu from the start?” Song Da mumbled, adding with a hint of grievance, "It should work, I suppose. Should I ask Mr. Blind to get some pills for you?"

"No need," Song Ying replied, expressionless, lowering her head to continue reviewing the ledger.

Not long after, however, Song Ying, seeming distracted, looked up again. "By the way, where exactly is my Second Uncle going at this hour? I feel like they're hiding something from me."

Is this a woman’s intuition? Song Ying had felt something was off with Song Haoran from the beginning.

"Well… Miss Ying, I'm really not sure, because the chairman didn’t tell me."

Song Ying replied calmly, "Is it that he didn’t tell you, or that he forbade you from telling me?"

"Miss Ying, I really don’t know…" The secretary looked at her pitifully—Song Dynasty's Miss Ying was rumored to be quite temperamental, a challenging person to serve.

"Alright then. Since you don’t know, go find out for me." Song Ying checked her watch. "Report back in half an hour, or you can say goodbye to your year-end bonus."

"Miss Ying… isn’t that a bit difficult for me?" The secretary hesitated, clearly struggling.

"What?" Song Ying sneered. "According to protocol, Chairman Bai is an employee of Song Dynasty, meaning he’s my subordinate. Are you saying that, as the boss, I can’t even know what my employee is doing during work hours? Are you planning to rebel?"

"N-no! I wouldn’t dare!" The secretary's face turned pale.

The benefits and treatment at Song Dynasty Group were highly desirable, making it a coveted job. After weighing the pros and cons, the secretary finally caved under Song Ying’s pressure. Bending slightly, she whispered in Song Ying’s ear, "Miss Ying, please don’t tell anyone I told you. Actually… the chairman is currently with Young Master Song and his friend at the Red House in the back street."

"What?!"

Song Ying’s fury erupted the moment she heard this, slamming her hand on the table as she nearly roared, "I’m here working myself to the bone, and they dare to visit a brothel?!"

"Miss Ying, shh… don’t get so worked up!" The secretary was alarmed—she didn’t realize Miss Ying could have such a powerful voice. Who knows if anyone outside heard?

"No way!"

Song Ying ignored her, abruptly standing up with clenched fists. "Alright, they finally showed their true colors… what a lecher! I’ll catch him in the act, or I’ll change my last name to match my father’s! Song Da, let’s go!"

"Alright…" Song Da muttered, rubbing his forehead. Isn’t a daughter having her father’s last name the usual thing?

"Miss Ying, what about the accounts? There’s so many…" Su Mei quickly reminded her.

"You handle it for now!" Song Ying hastily instructed, striding out of the small conference room.

---

The Red House’s decor resembled a brothel from the 1940s or 50s, with the girls dressed in fitted cheongsams, holding fans and swaying gracefully.

As soon as they entered, Luo Qiu caught a heavy whiff of rouge, then saw a mature woman with a long cigarette holder emerge slowly from behind a beaded curtain, greeting them with a warm smile.

This must be the Red House’s madam. She was especially welcoming as she leaned toward Bai Shuitang, saying sweetly, "Chairman, it’s been a while! Have you found a new spot to frequent?"

Bai Shuitang smiled awkwardly—it was common for subordinates to take their boss to such places, though it didn’t mean the boss would appreciate knowing they were regulars.

Fortunately, Song Haoran didn’t seem bothered, so Bai Shuitang cleared his throat. "Today, I’m bringing two esteemed guests, so make sure they’re well taken care of!"

"Whether you want someone slender or voluptuous, local or Western, you name it." The madam grinned. "We even have a few newcomers these days… since they're your guests, just a cover charge will do; drinks are on the house!"

"Quite the businesswoman, I see," Song Haoran chuckled. "Just worried that cover charge might not be cheap."

"Oh please, as esteemed guests of the chairman, surely you won’t mind. We’re just a small business, employing unfortunate women to make ends meet."

"Sure, I’ve got money to burn. As long as I’m entertained, price is no issue." Song Haoran waved dismissively, playing the rich wastrel to the hilt.

But he glanced at Luo Qiu mischievously, clearly amused by the madam’s talk of the cover charge, leaving Luo Qiu to guess what thoughts were crossing his mind.

Luo Qiu gently shook his head, then seemed to notice something, asking, "Where’s the restroom?"

"Just ahead; I’ll have someone guide you."

The madam quickly called over a server, who escorted Luo Qiu out, while she herself led Song Haoran and Bai Shuitang to the Red House’s best private room.

"I’ll go in alone," Luo Qiu said casually at the restroom door. The server nodded and politely waited outside, pulling out his phone.

Luo Qiu walked in, but emerged seconds later. Ignoring Song Haoran’s private room, he headed toward the Red House’s kitchen area, having glimpsed a familiar, staggering figure.

In the Red House’s kitchen, a young woman sat on a low stool, drenched in sweat, washing dishes in a large basin.

This was Natasha’s sister, Yuna, whose legs were paralyzed.