Zhang Jian rose to his full height.
He had inherited Zhang Tengfei's sharp features, but not his frame. Taller than both his father and Zhang Fu, he carried himself with a quiet, contained intensity that made people instinctively measure their words around him.
He walked into the living room and sat beside his mother.
Zhu Ning immediately poured him a cup of hot tea, her movements attentive, almost reverent.
"There's no need to remind me, Uncle Xiaopeng," Zhang Jian said calmly. "My contacts inside the company already informed me that Father intends to transfer me to the main headquarters. Possibly within this year."
Zhang Xiaopeng's brows lifted.
"When that happens," Zhang Jian continued, voice steady, "I'll make sure everyone sees the difference between Zhang Fu and me. I'll create a situation where Father has no choice but to appoint me as successor—for the sake of the company."
"That's my son!" Zhu Ning beamed.
