And then there was the issue that Xingyu and Xiao-Xiao were nowhere near inheriting their positions. Even if Xingyu was a patient man, it wasn’t as if they could just wait around for things to fall into their laps. How long would it take for them to get what they needed? Could they afford to wait that long? Who’s to say the Files wouldn’t be useless by then? Who’s to say Liu Incorporated wouldn’t have lost its power by then? Who’s to say the List wouldn’t have gotten exponentially powerful since then—who’s to say it wouldn’t have expanded its territory far beyond its current borders, consuming gangs like Kami no Ha that had so far been holding them back? Who’s to say they would be able to do anything then? And how in the world would they be able to keep Zhang Weiran around that long without ever having been noticed? What if he was caught somewhere in the middle—could Xingyu and Xiao-Xiao manage without him? What if they were caught too? Who would continue their work after that? Who would stand against the List if they were gone?

Xingyu was a realistic person. He was logical. He was rational. And he had a solution. It wasn’t a solution that either Xiao-Xiao or Zhang Weiran would be happy with, but he’d never sought Zhang Weiran’s approval, and he was well beyond Xiao-Xiao’s forgiveness anyway. It would get them onto the path that they needed to be on. Of course Xingyu had to do it.

HE DIDN’T LIKE to think about the things Liu Baiyan taught him very often, but in most cases he didn’t really have a choice. His ba had molded him with a purpose—every single part of him was decided by Liu Baiyan. He still wondered if him running away was also part of the grand plan; it gave him independence from his father, it gave him worldly experience, and of course he still returned even after promising himself that he wouldn’t. He had to believe that this wasn’t the case—running away was his first grasp at true freedom. If his ba had orchestrated that too…

One of the first lessons Ba ever taught him was that the perfect businessman was heartless to everything but the company. The perfect businessman should sacrifice everything for the company. “Family” was only a label for biological or legal relations; it implied no loyalty and no devotion and certainly not that thing called love—which was, of course, just a physical reaction that could be overcome if a person was logical enough. Family and ‘love’ should be cast aside as necessary for the company.

What about friends? Xingyu had asked once, and his ba had laughed in his face.

“Friends? What do you mean by ‘friends’?”