On the Day of the IPO, My Ex Asked If We Could Start Over - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

On the eighth day after Yunhe was founded, I landed my first major client.

Yongchuan Medical.

A traditional enterprise specializing in elderly rehabilitation equipment, it had beautiful financial reports and stable operations. Its only problem was an equity structure that was creatively chaotic. The founder, Old Master Zhou, was in his seventies, and none of his three children respected the others. Add to that a pile of veteran shareholders who had been given verbal promises in the early years, and every board meeting looked like a family dinner gone horribly wrong.

In the original book, this project was the catalyst for Zhou Qi’an’s rise.

He used this project to break into capital circles and, in the process, squeezed every last bit of utility out of the Female Lead.

This time, I sat down in front of Old Master Zhou first.

At first, the old man didn’t think much of me. He set his teacup on the table with a thud, his face long and grim. “You young consultants… the moment you open your mouths, it’s all rules, governance, and architecture. What do you know about family matters?”

I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I simply placed two documents I had prepared in advance before him.

The first was a list of execution deviations for every board resolution Yongchuan had passed in the last five years.

The second was a list of the seven most likely ‘landmines’ to explode during an IPO audit if they continued with their current style of proxy holdings by relatives, verbal promises, and whoever-is-unhappy-makes-a-scene management.

Old Master Zhou’s expression changed by the time he reached the third page.

Only then did I speak. “President Zhou, your biggest trouble right now isn’t that your children are disobedient.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s that no one is willing to speak plainly to you.”

He looked up at me.

“If you want to hand the company down, fine. But who gets management rights, who gets dividends, who retains voting power, how the veteran shareholders sign off, and whether they can go back on their word after signing-all of this must be codified into rules. It shouldn’t be a matter of whoever cries the loudest today gets a bigger piece of the pie.”

The meeting room fell silent for a few seconds.

I continued, “The capital market doesn’t care who resembles you the most, nor does it care who is the best at acting spoiled. It only recognizes rules.”

Old Master Zhou stared at me for a long time without saying a word.

I flipped to the third page and pointed it out to him. “What we’ve prepared for you isn’t a pretty PowerPoint; it’s a plan for clearing obstacles in shareholder relations. Specifically regarding communication with veteran shareholders, we’ve designed a separate mechanism. Which points must be discussed thoroughly, which signatures must leave a paper trail, and which family members must recuse themselves-everything is clearly defined.”

He frowned. “Communication with veteran shareholders?”

“Yes,” I said. “Too many companies get stuck here. It’s not that the business isn’t good enough; it’s that a group of people with voting rights have no idea what they’ve actually signed.”

As soon as I said that, the way Old Master Zhou looked at me finally changed.

It was no longer the look one gave a young girl.

It was the look one gave a person who could actually solve problems.

Before a final decision could be made, the meeting room door was pushed open.

Zhou Qi’an walked in, accompanied by He Yutang.

He was visibly stunned when he saw me. “Anhe? What are you doing here?”

I closed my folder. “Talking business.”

“Since when did you start your own business?”

“While you were busy coddling someone else.”

The atmosphere instantly turned awkward.

He Yutang looked at me with a faint, unreadable smile. “Miss Li, a project like this can’t be won with just a few pleasantries.”

“I know.” I looked at her. “That’s why I didn’t bring pleasantries. I brought a solution that will let the Old Master sleep tonight.”

Old Master Zhou made the call immediately. “Send the quote to my secretary. Yunhe will do a three-week trial run.”

Zhou Qi’an’s face darkened instantly.

I picked up my documents and stood up, giving him a small smile.

“President Zhou, excuse me.”

Snatching something away from the lead of a tragedy for the first time…

It felt pretty good.