Chapter 8 | Broken Bridge

The storm hadn't stopped.

It was just more covert.

Three days after the press conference.

Shenzhou Capital's stock price appeared stable.

Public opinion was gradually calming down.

But the real killer move was never in the open.

—

4 PM.

The CFO walked into Lu Chenzhou's office, pale-faced.

"Mr. Lu, the bank has given us a last-minute notice—"

"The second credit line for our C7 project is suspended."

The air froze instantly.

"The reason?" Lu Chenzhou asked calmly.

"Adjustment to the risk assessment."

"Shengyuan provided a new market report."

Shen Zhiyi stood beside him, her heart sinking.

What did the suspension of credit mean?

It meant a break in the cash flow.

C7 was a capital-intensive project.

Even a month's delay in funding would cripple construction.

"And," the CFO's voice tightened, "one of our core investors just requested an early buyback."

This was no coincidence.

This was an ambush.

Lu Chenzhou was silent for three seconds.

“The amount?”

“Two billion.”

The air seemed to be sucked out.

Shen Zhiyi could almost hear her own heartbeat.

Two billion.

That’s not a small amount.

“What are the trigger conditions for the buyback clause?”

“The stock price fluctuation exceeds the warning line.”

Lu Chenzhou nodded slightly.

No emotion.

“Prepare a working capital plan.”

“Mr. Lu… if the other party insists, our cash flow can only last three weeks.”

Three weeks.

This wasn’t a business war.

It was a broken bridge.

—

Evening.

The office lights were still on.

Shen Zhiyi didn’t leave.

She sat on the sofa, watching Lu Chenzhou review documents on his computer.

His expression was calm.

No panic.

But she knew.

He was calculating every step.

“Is it Sheng Yuan?”

She asked softly.

“Hmm.”

“How did they do that?”

“They colluded with the bank’s assessment department to amplify market risks.”

“Then they suppressed the stock price in the secondary market.”

He spoke calmly.

Like describing the weather.

“Do you have a countermeasure?”

He stopped pointing.

Two seconds of silence.

“Yes.”

“What’s the cost?”

He looked up at her.

“Pledge all my personal shares.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Lu Chenzhou!”

“That’s the fastest way.”

“What if it fails?”

“I lose control.”

The air suddenly turned cold.

Losing control.

What does that mean?

It means Chenzhou Capital might be swallowed up.

It means handing over ten years of planning.

It means—

Their future will also be shaken.

She walked over.

“Is there another way?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“You withdraw.”

She froze. “If you announce your withdrawal from C7.”

“The project positioning will change to a purely commercial complex.”

“The risk level will decrease.”

“Bank credit lines will be restored.”

She looked at him.

Her chest ached.

So, her opponent's real goal was to force him to choose between his career and her.

“Which would you choose?”

She asked softly.

He asked almost without hesitation.

“You.”

Her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

“Lu Chenzhou.”

“Yes.”

“Don't use me as a fallback.”

He was silent.

She continued:

“You prepared this land for me.”

“So that I would have a stage.”

“Not so that I would become your weakness.”

The air was silent.

He slowly stood up.

He walked to her.

“Shen Zhiyi.”

“I'm not choosing between you and my career.”

“I'm choosing my future.”

“Without you, my career has no meaning.”

Her heart pounded.

“But if you lose the company.”

“You’ll regret it.”

He looked at her.

His gaze was deep.

“The only thing I’ve ever regretted.”

“It was not stopping you ten years ago.”

“The rest, I can handle.”

She suddenly understood.

This wasn’t an impulsive decision.

It was his conscious choice.

—

One in the morning.

The phone rang.

It was Chairman Sheng Yuan calling personally.

Lu Chenzhou put it on speakerphone.

The other person’s voice was steady.

“Chenzhou, stop.”

“You can’t save C7.”

“The bank won’t give you any more time.”

“As long as that female designer withdraws.”

“Everything will be back to normal.”

Shen Zhiyi stood beside him.

Her fingers tightened slightly.

Lu Chenzhou’s tone was cold.

“You underestimate her.”

The other person chuckled.

“I’m just exploiting human nature.”

“Everyone will protect themselves.”

The air was silent.

Lu Chenzhou spoke slowly.

“Then you made a wrong bet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve already submitted the share pledge application.”

“The funds will arrive before the market opens tomorrow morning.”

There was a second of silence on the other end of the line.

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe.”

His voice was calm.

“But I won’t back down.”

Beep—

The call ended.

Shen Zhiyi looked at him.

“You really did it?”

“Yes.”

“The risk is too great.”

“I know.”

“What if we fail?”

He chuckled softly.

“Then we’ll start from scratch.”

The air suddenly fell silent.

She looked at him.

Suddenly she walked over.

She hugged him tightly.

“Lu Chenzhou.”

“Hmm?”

“If you fall this time.”

“I’ll be with you.”

He chuckled softly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The city lights outside the window remained unchanged.

The storm was at its deepest point.

But at this moment,

she suddenly understood.

The truly fatal risk wasn't money.

It wasn't the stock price.

It was—

whether they were still standing together.

And now,

the answer was clear.