For when you're broken

Two

Leo barely slept that night. He lay on the old couch in their cramped apartment, staring at the cracked ceiling. The zeros in his bank account didn’t feel real yet.

Early in the morning, a black Mercedes pulled up in front of the old apartment building. Leo was already standing on the sidewalk, with his worn-out delivery bag slung over his shoulder one last time.

A middle-aged man in a tailored charcoal suit stepped out and opened the back door himself.

“Young Master Zhang,” he said with a bow. “I am Mr. Chen — your grandfather’s legal counsel.”

Leo hesitated. “Call me Leo.”

Mr. Chen’s eyes flickered for a moment, before he nodded. “As you wish… Leo.”

---

The ride into the city was silent except for the faint hum of the engine. Leo watched the familiar streets flicker by: noodle stalls opening for breakfast, shop shutters rolling up, students hurrying in their uniforms. He had delivered to all these places. No one knew that with a single phone call, he could buy out this whole street now — every stall, every shop.

The car stopped in front of a shiny glass and steel building. A small sign at the entrance read “Zhang & Li Holdings”.

Inside, the marble floors were so smooth they made his footsteps quiet, and the whole place felt rich and powerful, like he was stepping into a different world.

They rode the elevator to the top floor, passing many gleaming, mahogany-paneled doors. Mr. Chen took him into a private meeting room with a view of the city. A fresh pot of tea was waiting on the table, giving off steam.

“Sit,” Mr. Chen said, gesturing to a high-backed leather chair.

Leo lowered himself slowly. His hands felt heavy.

Mr. Chen placed a slim leather folder in front of him. The embossed dragon crest on its cover matched the one on his black card.

“Your grandfather left explicit instructions,” Mr. Chen began. His voice was calm, but his eyes watched Leo like a hawk. “The Zhang Family Group is now yours to command. You are the sole heir — every share, every asset, every decision.”

Leo flipped the folder open. Neat columns of figures. Names of subsidiaries. Numbers that made no sense — too many digits, too many zeros.

“What does the company… do?” Leo asked.

Mr. Chen allowed himself the ghost of a smile. “In short? We engineer the cities your generation will live in. The Zhang Group is the majority stakeholder in the Green Core Initiative — sustainable mega-projects: renewable power grids, urban water purification, smart waste systems, green skyscrapers. We build clean cities for polluted metropolises.”

He poured tea for Leo with steady hands. “We also hold strategic stakes in environmental AI companies, advanced recycling technologies, and carbon capture networks. While others chased quick real estate profits, your grandfather invested in the future of urban life.”

Leo let out a soft whistle. “So… it’s all real?”

Mr. Chen’s smile vanished. “Very real, Young Master. But with it comes responsibility — and enemies. These projects touch politics, energy monopolies, old construction tycoons. Many will not be pleased you’re at the helm.”

Leo closed the folder, his thoughts racing. In the corner of the glass, he caught his reflection: the same tired eyes, but now he had to stay focused.

Mr. Chen cleared his throat. “There is one more thing. The media caught wind last night. The card, the restaurant — it was seen. There’s already speculation about who you are.”

Leo’s jaw clenched. “So they know?”

“Not everything. But enough to draw attention. The largest business network requested an interview — Private, but live. It’s the best chance to show you’re real… and that you’re ready.”

Leo leaned back. “And if I say no?”

Mr. Chen didn’t flinch. “Then they’ll plot to ruin your image in the media and across the continent — even before you make your public appearance as the new owner of the Zhang Group. Better to let the wolves see your teeth.”

An hour later, Leo sat under studio lights, a microphone clipped to his collar. With cameras pointed at his face. He hadn’t had time to change — just a fresh shirt, the cheapest in his closet, but ironed flat. He refused the stylists. Let them see the delivery boy who owned the future.

Across from him, the anchor adjusted her earpiece and smiled with all her perfect teeth.

“Mr. Zhang — or should I say, “Young Master Zhang,” she began, her voice honey-smooth for the millions watching. “This is quite the revelation. From a food delivery man… to the heir of Asia’s most promising urban tech empire. How does it feel?”

Leo met her gaze. “Heavy,” he said simply. “And overdue.”

She leaned in, scent of expensive perfume drifting across the desk. “Your rise has stunned the market. But the bigger question — what will you do with the Zhang Family Group? People wonder if you have experience.”

“I know what it’s like to have nothing,” Leo said, with a low and clear voice. “That's an experience no business or school teaches. My grandfather wanted someone who understands the people living in the cities we build. I won’t disappoint him.”

A murmur in the studio. The anchor shifted — she hadn’t expected that answer.

“Interesting. And about your personal life… you’ve been seen with the Li family — your wife’s family. Rumor is they own a significant stake in Lin Dynasty Group. Should we expect a collaboration?”

For a heartbeat, Leo’s jaw twitched. He thought of Sophia’s mother’s greasy hand on his sleeve.

“I believe in family,” he said slowly. “But business should be clean. If there’s value, if there’s trust — then yes. Otherwise, we stand alone.”

The anchor’s eyebrows arched. “That sounds like a challenge.”

Leo gave a thin smile. “It’s a promise.”

She flipped her notes. “Last question — do you have anything to say to the people watching? The ones who probably called you worthless just yesterday? or thought you would amount to nothing”

He leaned forward. “Never let the world decide your worth. Make them regret they ever tried.”

The red light on the camera faded. The anchor exhaled, eyes wide— she had expected a trembling rich kid, not this steel-nerved heir.

Off-stage, Mr. Chen gave a nod. “Well done.”

Leo stood. The studio lights seemed warmer now. His phone buzzed in his pocket — a new message from Sophia: “I just watched your interview, we need to talk.”