It was eleven fifty when Zhang Keqin's car arrived at Nanshan Coffee. Nanshan Coffee was a famous local Western restaurant; in terms of both service and prestige, it ranked among the top three in Changjing's Western dining scene, a favorite haunt for those with a touch of bourgeois sentimentality and ample funds.

It was also a place where some young dandies liked to show off after picking up girls. Zhang Keqin raised his arm, glanced at his watch, and hesitated slightly.

Then, with a soft sigh, he stepped out of the car. Zhao Min rushed forward to shield the door, having already exited before Zhang Keqin did.

"Boss, it's not time yet!" Zhao Min said this very quietly. Zhang Keqin was extremely punctual, never early nor late.

It was still a few minutes shy of twelve o'clock. "I know!" Zhang Keqin's tone was flat, and he even glanced at Zhao Min, which caused a fresh jolt of anxiety in the subordinate.

"When family meets, what does a few minutes early or late matter?" Zhang Keqin left those words hanging and walked inside. Zhao Min’s face went instantly pale before he quickly followed in his wake.

Zhang Keqin’s statement was clearly telling him that he was there to meet his son, and there was no harm in concluding the meeting slightly sooner. Meeting his son—how could that comparison be made to meeting anyone else?

"Sir, may I ask if you have a reservation!" The host at the door did not recognize Zhang Keqin. Then again, they would never have expected the esteemed Provincial Party Secretary to suddenly show up there.

It was like seeing a Party Secretary riding a public bus in later years, or a Secretary showing up for a job interview, only to remain unrecognized. "Check if Zhang Yang has a reservation!" Zhang Keqin murmured, glancing inside again almost involuntarily as he spoke.

He hoped to see Zhang Yang’s figure inside. After all these years, this was the first time Zhang Yang had agreed to meet him.

His son, whom he usually only saw in photographs, would finally be met in the flesh. At this moment, even as a regional leader, the top official of the Provincial Party Committee, his heart was filled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

After watching for a moment, an unnatural look of disappointment flickered across Zhang Keqin's face. He had not seen Zhang Yang in the main hall.

"Sir, Mr. Zhang does have a reservation.

Please, follow me!" The host quickly returned and respectfully informed Zhang Keqin. Zhang Keqin nodded and followed the host forward, with Zhao Min and the guard trailing behind.

The host led them to the second floor, to an area marked as the VIP Lounge, before stopping. Two people were already standing by the door: Long Feng and Qu Meilan were both there, observing him as Zhang Keqin approached.

"Sir, this is the room Mr. Zhang reserved!" The host said softly, slightly bowing with a smile.

Nanshan Coffee was an asset of the Wu family; more precisely, it was something Wu Zhiguo had established himself in the early days. Wu Zhiguo was the ultimate proprietor here.

Zhang Yang was Wu Zhiguo's savior. Arranging a luxurious VIP suite for Zhang Yang here was not the slightest bit difficult.

If Zhang Yang wished it, Wu Zhiguo would have gladly gifted him the entire Nanshan Coffee. "I see!" Zhang Keqin's tone remained utterly level, revealing nothing of his emotions.

However, just before stepping inside, he instinctively tugged at his collar. Zhao Min, with his sharp eyes, noticed the gesture.

Zhao Min understood: Zhang Keqin was still somewhat nervous; otherwise, he wouldn't have made that unconscious motion of adjusting his collar. He hadn't seen his leader exhibit such tension in a very long time.

Gently pushing the door open, Zhang Keqin immediately saw one person sitting inside. The person seated was the very Zhang Yang he had seen countless times in photographs, now fully grown.

Zhang Keqin stepped in. The guard was about to follow, but Zhao Min grabbed him, pulling him back.

Zhao Min subtly shook his head at the guard, then pulled the door shut, before quietly observing Long Feng and Qu Meilan, who hadn't moved an inch. After a few glances, Zhao Min sighed inwardly.

The guard’s performance was not even comparable to Zhang Yang’s own bodyguard. This guard had been assigned from the Security Regiment—he was quite capable and utterly dependable—but he lacked judgment.

Didn't he realize the gravity of the occasion? He had actually intended to follow inside.

If he had truly followed, Zhao Min guaranteed, he would have been unceremoniously thrown out, likely by an enraged Zhang Keqin himself. In the private room, Zhang Yang’s heartbeat had quickened from the moment Zhang Keqin arrived outside the door.

It was a natural acceleration; at that time, he had even felt an urge to flee the room entirely. The moment Zhang Keqin stepped inside, that feeling surged back, stronger than before.

Zhang Yang squeezed the chair beneath him until the wood creaked, barely managing to control his emotions. This wave of negative emotion arose naturally within his body, leaving Zhang Yang helpless against it.

Zhang Keqin sat down opposite Zhang Yang and studied him closely. This was his son, whom he hadn't looked at face-to-face like this in many years.

Since the rift between them formed, Zhang Yang hadn't regarded him as a father at all, but rather as an enemy. This was the one regret in the otherwise flawlessly smooth career of Zhang Keqin.

"You've grown up," After a moment, Zhang Keqin spoke first, letting out a quiet sigh as he did so. Hearing this, a wave of inexplicable annoyance washed over Zhang Yang.

If he hadn't been actively fighting it, he might have already left the room. "Get to the point.

I don't have much time; I have something important in ten minutes." Controlling the turmoil inside, Zhang Yang spoke slowly, though his voice trembled slightly. Zhang Keqin froze for a beat, then a look of helplessness crossed his face.

This was not the father-son reunion he had envisioned, or rather, not the outcome he desired. Zhang Yang had agreed to meet him, yet he faced his father like a stranger, perhaps even worse than a stranger.

"Your mother, back then..." "Bang!" Zhang Yang's hand suddenly slammed down on the table. The fine hardwood table cracked and shattered under the impact, a sound that traveled even to those outside the door.

Zhang Keqin’s guard reacted instantly, lunging toward the door. But as he reached the threshold, an arm blocked him.

Long Feng, who had been standing by the door moments before, had somehow appeared directly in his path. The guard blinked in surprise and tried to throw Long Feng aside.

However, as his hand shot out, it was he who ended up being thrown. "Calm down, everyone, calm down!" Zhao Min shouted urgently, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

He desperately wanted to rush in and see what had transpired inside. But he knew clearly that controlling the situation right now was paramount; otherwise, this rare opportunity for a father-son meeting would end in disaster.

"I don't want to hear about the past, and I don't want to listen to it!" Inside the room, Zhang Yang forced the words out one by one, his eyes turning bloodshot. Memories flooded his mind: a beautiful woman playing with him when he was small, a woman who was kind and wonderful to him.

In these memories, only the woman existed; the younger Zhang Keqin always appeared briefly and left just as quickly. These recollections helped Zhang Yang understand: his physical body's early childhood was spent almost entirely with his mother.

Zhang Keqin was always busy then, constantly traveling, arguably neglecting both mother and son. It was no wonder he reacted so strongly after his mother's death.

"Fine, I won't speak of it!" Zhang Keqin slumped back into his seat, entirely stripped of the demeanor of a superior. All that remained was a deep ache, mixed with regret, and astonishment at the sheer power Zhang Yang possessed to smash the table.

He never knew his son had become so formidable. "If you came only for that matter, you can leave now.

If you have anything else to discuss, please say it quickly," The table was ruined, but the chairs remained. Zhang Yang sat down again and spoke softly.

Smashing the table had been an instinctive reaction born of necessity. The negative emotions inside him had peaked; if he hadn't found an outlet, he might have done something unimaginable even to himself.

Smashing the table was wrong, but it had managed to dissipate some of Zhang Yang's emotional intensity, allowing him to remain composed enough to face Zhang Keqin. Zhang Yang himself felt quite conflicted at that moment.

Only when directly confronting Zhang Keqin did he truly grasp the magnitude of the resentment his body held toward the man. If he hadn't struck the table to vent, he would have gone mad—a passive madness, an insanity brought on by instinct that he didn't want.

It was like suffering an epileptic seizure. "I need to ask you for a favor!" Zhang Keqin looked up.

His emotions had stabilized somewhat now, and he spoke quietly from his seat. "What is it?" Zhang Yang’s reply was simple.

As long as the topic didn't turn to his mother, he could control himself and face Zhang Keqin directly. But this was him now.

The previous 'Zhang Yang' likely wouldn't even have agreed to the meeting, let alone managed this face-to-face conversation. ………… "Calm down, everyone!

Xiao Wang, I guarantee you, the Chief inside will be fine!" Zhao Min stood with both arms outstretched, mediating between the guard and Long Feng, shouting loudly. Calm had returned to the private room, but outside the door, the atmosphere was tense and volatile.

The guard, Xiao Wang, after being thrown, had scrambled up and launched another attack on Long Feng, only to be thrown down again. Even Qu Meilan had stepped forward, ready to discipline the guard.

The guard was formidable, but Qu Meilan was a master of internal energy, by no means inferior to this battle-hardened security officer. "Secretary Zhao, we must request immediate backup.

I am responsible for the Chief's safety!" The guard stared coldly at Long Feng, finally understanding that he was no match for this man, who was clearly superior to him. Saying that, he reached for a communicator on his person.

However, before he could utter a word into it, his wrist twisted sharply, and the device clattered to the floor. Qu Meilan swiftly moved forward, snatched up the communicator, and returned to stand beside Long Feng.