Ding Songqing’s Gift of Gratitude

Ding Songqing finally had a son, and naturally, he intended to host a grand banquet to celebrate. He made a point of inviting Xiao Yao, Qin Huali, and Fan Jingyu in particular, and this time, his attitude toward Xiao Yao had shifted once more.

In the past, Ding Songqing’s manner toward Xiao Yao had been one of respect; now, in addition to respect, there was a heartfelt gratitude and a genuine warmth. The words Xiao Yao had spoken at their last dinner had already come true so swiftly. Chen Guangzhi and the others no longer harbored the slightest doubt about Xiao Yao’s extraordinary abilities.

With that realization, Xiao Yao’s identity as a billionaire became secondary; someone with such astonishing skills in physiognomy could, at crucial moments, alter the entire course of events, even save lives. The consensus among them was clear—they must find ways to draw closer to Xiao Yao, to forge a more intimate relationship.

Of the group, aside from Ding Songqing, it was Fan Jingyu who was the most delighted. Ding Songqing’s greatest wish in life had been fulfilled, and Fan Jingyu’s own aspirations now seemed within reach. Originally, even if Wang Shichang had indeed developed cancer, Fan Jingyu’s hopes of obtaining that position had been slim; with his current status, he was merely one among several candidates, lacking any overwhelming advantage.

But if he could plan ahead, seize the initiative, his chances of success would certainly increase. This opportunity was a critical step for him. Should he succeed in acquiring the position, his comparative youth would become an even greater asset. Now that he knew Xiao Yao’s words were not empty boasts, he was determined to give his all.

The day after the banquet, Ding Songqing, accompanied by his lawyer, paid a personal visit to Xiao Yao’s home. Once seated in the living room, Ding Songqing came straight to the point: “I’ve come here to express my gratitude, and I hope you will accept my sincerity.”

“Didn’t you already treat us to a meal yesterday?” Xiao Yao replied. “We all shared your joy over drinks, and I think that’s thanks enough.”

After sharing drinks twice, even though there was a considerable age difference between them, Xiao Yao and Ding Songqing could be considered good friends. To Xiao Yao, lending a helping hand to a friend—especially since it was just a casual remark—did not warrant any substantial reward.

“A single meal can hardly convey my sincerity,” Ding Songqing insisted earnestly. “My greatest wish in life was to have a son to carry on the family legacy, and now it’s come true so quickly. You can’t imagine how happy I am! I once vowed that if I could have a son to inherit my business, I’d gladly give up half my company’s shares to make it happen.”

“There’s really no need for any special show of thanks,” Xiao Yao said. “If you think one meal isn’t enough, you can always invite me again sometime—I certainly won’t refuse.”

But Ding Songqing’s expression was solemn, utterly sincere. “I know you don’t lack money, and I’m sure the shares of my little company hold no appeal for you. But you must allow me to express my gratitude, or I’ll feel uneasy.”

“If you’ve prepared a gift, I can accept that,” Xiao Yao replied. “But there’s really no need for shares or cash.”

“I believe you’ll like this gift,” Ding Songqing said, no longer keeping him in suspense. “I did prepare shares, but not from my own company—nor am I giving them away for nothing. Since you’ve accepted the 6% stake in Huahui Bank from President Tang, I assume you have an interest in Huahui Bank. So, I’d like to transfer my 10% stake in Huahui Bank to you as well—this is my token of gratitude, and I hope you won’t refuse.”

This gesture took Xiao Yao by surprise. Had it been shares from Ding Songqing’s own group, he truly would have had no interest; though the company might still have some room to grow, the potential was not great enough to warrant investment. Huahui Bank, however, was a different matter entirely. It had just completed its final round of financing and was soon to initiate its IPO. Once listed, its market value could easily double in the short term.

A 10% stake in Huahui Bank was no small sum, even for someone as wealthy as Ding Songqing. For Xiao Yao, the investment meant even more. Huahui Bank was the very first project he had identified through his profound divination technique, the Dayan Art. After the IPO, within five years, its market value would increase fivefold, and within eight years, tenfold.

The Dayan Art was exhausting to use, and the more complex the matter, the longer it took him to recover. He had no intention of expending so much effort on investments; to have such outstanding results from his very first calculation was a rare fortune, and naturally, he wished to acquire a larger stake in Huahui Bank if possible.

Now, presented with the opportunity to acquire an additional 10% stake, it was simply too good to pass up.

“I’m very optimistic about Huahui Bank’s future,” Xiao Yao said frankly. “If you transfer 10% of your shares to me, you may regret it later. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“Giving you this 10% stake is not only to thank you, but also to free up some capital quickly,” Ding Songqing replied, half-joking, half-serious. “Now that I have a son, my ambition, which had been waning, has returned with renewed vigor. I’m determined to build my company bigger and stronger, so I can leave more for my son in the future.”

“Very well, I’ll accept your kind gesture,” Xiao Yao agreed. “I’ll prepare the funds as soon as I can. If you’re not in urgent need, I’ll try to gather the money within three months. Is that timeline acceptable?”

“There’s no rush,” Ding Songqing replied. “The company’s cash flow is healthy; I won’t need the money for at least half a year. Whenever you have the funds ready, just transfer them to me.”

Xiao Yao called in Lawyer Jin, and before noon, both parties had signed the share transfer agreement. Ding Songqing’s 10% stake was to be valued according to the final round of Huahui Bank’s financing, totaling three billion yuan.

At Xiao Yao’s insistence, the payment period was set at three months. Ding Songqing’s willingness to part with his 10% stake in Huahui Bank was already an extraordinary gesture; to delay payment any further would have been greedy, and Xiao Yao had no intention of overreaching.