Chapter Fifty-Four: Could It Be a Ghost?

On an unnamed island, deep within a specially constructed chamber over a hundred meters underground—impervious to any surveillance or detection, immune to all signals and modern devices—a clandestine conversation was taking place.

“That boy has already inherited the fortune. Should we set our plan into motion?” one voice asked.

“I don’t think the time is quite right. We must proceed step by step—first execute Plan One, then move on to Plan Two for maximum effectiveness.”

“I just received word that the boy lost fourteen and a half billion in Las Vegas in one go, but then astonishingly acquired Camillo’s casino. I’m beginning to suspect he might be as cunning as his late father. If that’s the case, things could get complicated.”

“I think he’s just someone who suddenly came into money and has lost all sense of himself. Imagine, he gambled for clothes in a casino—against Fire Phoenix, no less! He’s in for trouble now. My only concern is if something happens to him, what then? After all, he can’t die just yet.”

“Don’t worry. He’s guarded by those two loyal hounds—there’s no imminent danger.”

“Lin Jian is manageable, but what of King Kong and his men? Could they cause problems for us?”

“Hmph… Fang Meng is nothing but a brute, of no concern. As for Xiao Tianci, he’s just a child—hardly fits to manage such a fortune. The Xiao family’s hundred-year legacy cannot be allowed to slip away. No matter how sly he is, the current Xiao family is not what it once was; in those days, their numbers were many, and more importantly, their assets were scattered. Now, everything is concentrated in his hands. Hmph…”

“Very well. Then we’ll proceed with Plan One—divide his holdings from the periphery, then close in and seize the Meihua shares. A direct assault on Meihua’s shares would require massive funds and couldn’t be done quietly.”

“Exactly. But pay attention to two things: the stance of the various nations—unless we have no choice but to go all in, we must avoid drawing their attention. And while the Xiao family keeps a low profile, their connections run deep—some of their people are exceptionally formidable. We must be cautious.”

“Heh… Whether Xiao Tianci is a genius or a fool, he’ll have to hand over the money eventually. Let him bask in his brief glory—every pauper enjoys a moment of wealth.”

Laughter echoed in the chamber.

Xiao Tianci was coming to realize that knowing a little could sometimes make things much harder to control. Often, when you wished someone to go east, they stubbornly went west instead. To truly gain “control” was proving more complex than he had imagined.

He couldn’t help but feel unsettled by these dramatic twists and turns. Alone with his thoughts, he found himself increasingly frustrated.

“Chief Steward, do you think there’s any justice left in this world?” Xiao Tianci asked, lounging comfortably in a spacious, luxurious helicopter—no ordinary model, of course. He had unconsciously grown accustomed to addressing the man beside him as Chief Steward.

Lin Jian, the Chief Steward, sat upright and answered with impeccable formality: “If the boss says there is, then there is. If the boss says there isn’t, then there isn’t.”

“Tch… Not an ounce of originality. Don’t play the robot with me. I want to know what you actually think—and that’s an order,” Xiao Tianci insisted, having learned to navigate these exchanges with increasing confidence. He was determined not to be the passive party any longer; Lin Jian’s way of speaking always left him feeling out of sorts.

“If I may speak personally, the question is multifaceted; things cannot be judged solely by right or wrong. Good and evil, justice or injustice, all depend on perspective. My doctoral thesis was on the nature of good and evil in humanity—it caused quite a stir at the time. But honestly, my position dictates that contemplating such matters is a waste of time. Of course, as a hobby or diversion, it’s fine. But during work hours, I never dwell on philosophical questions.”

Xiao Tianci glanced at Fang Meng and the pilot in the front seats—both acted as if they hadn’t heard a thing. Apparently, only he found this conversation remarkable.

“You mentioned your doctoral thesis. Come to think of it, I never really asked you about yourself. Tell me more,” he demanded. In truth, he knew very little about the Xiao family’s Chief Steward, and there were many things he was still in the dark about.

Lin Jian replied with his usual precision, “I began studying multiple languages at age three. At four, I learned management from my grandfather. Soon after, I was sent to the Royal Management Academy in Britain for foundational studies. Between the ages of ten and twenty, I was free to choose my disciplines—earned a Master’s in Physics from Cambridge at thirteen, a PhD in Philosophy from Harvard at fifteen, and a Doctorate in Economic Management from MIT at eighteen. The next two years were spent traveling the world, honing my language skills and various life abilities. After twenty, I passed the family’s tests and was allowed to return to the Xiao family for work.”

Xiao Tianci regarded him as if he’d just encountered a monster. “So you went to Cambridge for physics, Harvard for philosophy, MIT for economics and management… Are you insane? A pile of doctorates and master’s degrees—my god, are you even human?”

Lin Jian remained unperturbed. “Those were my choices. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed studying languages the most.”

Though not a genius, Xiao Tianci prided himself on not being stupid. Back in his school days, he had only ever devoted half his energy to studies—the other half always scheming how to make money. He knew, even if he put in his all, his academic achievements would never be outstanding. Yet in business, he possessed an indescribable confidence. He looked at Lin Jian, perplexed. “So what were you thinking, studying all that?”

“I simply drew lots and went with whatever came up.”

“Heavens…” Xiao Tianci collapsed heavily into his seat and muttered, “Now I get it. There really is something to that saying—there’s no difference between a genius and a madman. Justice? What justice? There’s no such thing anymore…”

As he sat musing, Lin Jian interrupted, “Boss, we’ve been flying over Las Vegas for over an hour now. Perhaps you should decide on our next destination?” Had any outsider witnessed this scene, they might have shaken their heads and muttered, “Two lunatics.”

Where to go? Yin’er was back to work these days—best to stay away for now. Nothing had been settled here yet; going back would only bring trouble home.

Just as Xiao Tianci was about to speak, a voice sounded beside his ear: “Kid, you’re in trouble now. Better deal with it first.”

Xiao Tianci slowly turned to look at the ever-waiting Chief Steward, then glanced at King Kong in front. He was certain neither had spoken to him; the voice seemed to exist for his ears alone.

They were still in mid-air. The hair on Xiao Tianci’s body stood on end. The voice was no hallucination—it sounded as if someone was whispering directly into his ear.

Though a staunch atheist, Xiao Tianci couldn’t help but shiver inwardly. “Could it be a ghost?”