Chapter 12: If Money Is Needed, I Can Find a Way

The driver escorted Wang Yang and Jiang Liangliang to the airport. After another heartfelt farewell, the two once again entered the terminal.

The security check was much like those back home, and the first-class treatment was similarly familiar.

When it was time to board, they walked straight into first class.

With an eye mask on, Wang Yang gradually drifted into sleep, lulled by the gentle turbulence of the flight.

The deal with Mijias was far from easy, and although his body wasn’t physically exhausted, the mental strain had left him somewhat weary.

...

After twelve hours of continuous turbulence, the flight landed precisely on schedule at Qingcheng International Airport.

Stepping out of the arrival hall, Wang Yang glanced up at the bright sunlit sky where fluffy white clouds drifted slowly on the breeze, and his spirits lifted considerably.

Now, all that remained was for the fighter jet’s empty shell to be transported over, so he could begin repairs.

“Brother Yang, the car is here. Let’s get going,” Jiang Liangliang said, dragging her luggage and checking her phone for updates.

Wang Yang nodded, confirming the taxi details with her before stepping into the vehicle and closing his eyes to rest once more.

The journey back to the company was safe and smooth. No more than five minutes after sitting down in his office, there was a knock on the door.

Without looking up, Wang Yang heard the door open, followed by Liang Yuzhu’s voice: “You’re back...”

“Mm, back,” Wang Yang replied, finally lifting his gaze to watch Liang Yuzhu enter and settle onto the sofa.

She wore a neutral, loose gray sweatshirt and a pair of faded jeans, her feet clad in cheap sneakers that looked like they’d been picked up from some street stall.

Her attire was unchanged from when he last saw her a year ago—simple, clean, utterly unassuming for the owner of a livestream company that pulled in hundreds of thousands per event.

Wang Yang said nothing, respecting that her choice of clothing was her own.

Besides, Liang Yuzhu didn’t need to go out to meet with clients or brand representatives.

“This deal went smoothly,” Wang Yang said, standing and getting straight to the point.

Liang Yuzhu nodded lightly, lifting her clear eyes to glance at him discreetly. “Good. Oh, by the way, how much money is left in the company’s account now?”

“Why? Do you need funds for something?” Wang Yang asked, crossing one leg over the other on the sofa.

Liang Yuzhu shook her head quickly. “No, no, I don’t need money at the moment.”

“It’s just… the loan repayment starts next month, and I’m worried the company’s balance won’t be enough for the first installment,” she added.

Wang Yang nodded thoughtfully.

He’d considered this issue before but hadn’t settled on a solution yet.

After all, just purchasing the fighter jet alone cost $5.2 million—about 36 million Kyushu currency.

After the initial deposit and the prepaid shipping fees, the company now had 17.8 million left in the account.

That sum was insufficient to cover the remaining payment once the fighter jet shell arrived at port; there was still a shortfall.

He was currently fretting over how to handle the remaining funds.

As for livestreaming, he hadn’t considered it lately. After the recent black hat incident, he’d put that on hold. The company’s PR team had managed the fallout well; no negative news was visible online, and the impact was minimal.

But Wang Yang knew this was only because he hadn’t resumed streaming or sales. He was certain that if he did, those old troublemakers would flood his livestream, spamming questions about when the F22 fighter jet would arrive—they were ready to pay.

They’d distract the audience, turning the stream into a meme fest demanding he deliver the jet immediately, ensuring the event would lose money instead of making it.

Better to wait until the F22 was fully repaired and ready to launch, then livestream and completely confound those trolls and whoever was orchestrating this behind the scenes.

If livestreaming to raise funds wasn’t feasible, he’d have to resort to the simplest and most straightforward method of raising money.

However, Wang Yang had no intention of revealing this to Liang Yuzhu just yet.

“I’ll figure out the money. You don’t need to worry—just cooperate with me when the time comes,” he said.

Liang Yuzhu exhaled deeply, clearly relieved to have that burden lifted. “Okay, you’ll handle it. Just let me know when you do.”

“Well…” Liang Yuzhu hesitated, avoiding his gaze as if she wanted to say something but held back.

Wang Yang was taken aback. “What is it? President Liang, do you have any other concerns or questions?”

“It’s just… will we need to invest more money into the project later? If so, can you come up with a plan? If you can’t, I can try to think of something to help,” Liang Yuzhu said.

Wang Yang paused before smiling. “Don’t worry. This project will indeed require a lot of funds later, but I’ll find a way. If I really can’t think of a solution, I’ll tell you.”

“Good. Make sure to tell me in advance—I’ll need time to prepare,” she said, pressing her thin lips together and nervously clenching her fists.

“I promise I will.”

“All right, then I’ll take my leave. You focus on your work. If anything comes up, let me know immediately.”

“Also, even if the project doesn’t make as much money as expected, that’s fine. If the risks are too high, we can lower our expected returns. I can accept making less,” Liang Yuzhu added earnestly.

Wang Yang considered this, nodding firmly.

After seeing Liang Yuzhu off, he sank into the boss’s chair, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and exhaled deeply, her words echoing in his mind.

From her demeanor, it was clear this young president was truly afraid of losses.

Every sentence she spoke steered away from losing money, emphasizing over and over that losing money would be catastrophic.

Wang Yang understood this well.

If the F22 fighter jet repair project failed, it wouldn’t just mean all the initial efforts were wasted—it would saddle Liang Yuzhu with a massive debt.

A debt she would never be able to repay in her lifetime.

But with the system guarantee in hand, how could he possibly lose money?

A fully repaired F22 fighter jet would be worth at least a billion in the market. Once it was fixed, even if he lowered the price slightly, buyers would line up instantly.

Perhaps this would even open the door to government connections.

Surely, Kyushu would be interested in a fully operational, technologically advanced F22 fighter jet.

Lost in thought, another knock came at the door.

Jiang Liangliang entered, clutching a thick stack of documents. “Brother Yang, I found the warehouse you asked for. When shall we go take a look?”

Just the words he was waiting for, Wang Yang rose immediately, grabbed his car keys, and headed toward the office door. “Let’s go now.”