After the Divorce, My Ex-Wife Suddenly Became an Alpha - Chapter 27
Chapter 27: Cheer for Her
When everyone in the room turned to look at him in unison, the balding man froze, feeling a chill scrape coldly across his scalp like a blade. Sweat prickled on his back.
“Vice Principal Chi wants to sit here,” the shareholder beside him spoke up with a tone like he’d just won the lottery, slapping the back of the chair hard. “Aren’t you going to move and give up your seat?”
The balding man cursed inwardly at how sly the other was. If he was so eager, why didn’t he give up his seat? But Chi Yuejing’s smiling gaze was fixed directly on his face. She hadn’t said a word—just stood there with arms crossed, calmly waiting.
She was standing up for Gu Jinxiao.
The realization made the balding man’s heart jolt. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. But with everyone in the room silently watching, he had no choice but to slowly stand and force out a strangled, “You… please, have a seat.”
Before he could finish the sentence, the bootlicking shareholder next to him had already shoved him aside.
Caught off guard, the balding man could only watch as the chair that was rightfully his got dragged in front of Chi Yuejing, and then, as if it had always been his to give, the other man graciously invited her to sit.
This time, Chi Yuejing didn’t decline. With the same pleasant smile, she took the chair and slid it a bit toward the corner before settling into it gracefully.
“I’m terribly sorry for holding everyone up. Please, carry on,” she said politely.
Everyone gave polite chuckles, and the atmosphere lightened. Nobody seemed to notice—or care—that someone had been left without a seat.
The balding man awkwardly stood at the edge of the room. Since there were no spare chairs, after giving up his own, he could only shrink into a corner uncomfortably. What made it worse was that no one suggested getting another chair—not even Gu Chengye, who sat at the head of the table, fully engaged in conversation with Gu Jinxiao.
Holding up the Starcross approval document, Gu Chengye wore an expression perfectly balanced between concern and reluctance.
“Little sister, the main reason we asked you here today is about the military’s transportation fees. The cost far exceeds our usual standards, and I’m afraid it’s going to be hard to approve.”
The meaning was clear: this was a rejection. But Gu Jinxiao had expected as much. She replied in an even tone, “The scale of this order is massive. I did consider using the company’s own fleet, but the capacity simply isn’t enough. That’s why I had to turn to the military’s starships to ensure safe transport of the raw ore.”
“Makes sense,” Gu Chengye nodded. “But that’s not how business works. With the cost of transport this high, our margins will be far too low. And if the military starts treating this as precedent, we could end up on the losing end in the future.”
As the conversation shifted to profit, the shareholders began chiming in.
They might show Gu Jinxiao some respect on other matters, but when it came to money—especially their money—there was no room for compromise.
“Miss Gu, you’d better reconsider. Business isn’t charity. If we don’t care about profit, is Gu Group just supposed to be a nonprofit now?”
“No matter what, the company’s profits must come first!”
Gu Jinxiao listened quietly and took a sip from her thermos. Her calm composure made Gu Chengye suspicious. Was she confident, or just bluffing?
He raised a hand to silence the room. “Since Aunt appointed me as General Manager, I have to live up to that trust,” he said carefully. “But Xiao Jin, this goes beyond typical authority. If you insist on paying at this rate, I think you should give everyone here a guarantee.”
“What kind of guarantee?” she asked.
“If you spend this much, you’d better earn it back.” Gu Chengye smiled. “Since you’re insisting on this premium transport, I expect you to bring in even more profit in return.”
It was a trap. Everyone in the room understood the profit margins of ore shipments. With the transport fee alone exceeding projections, there was no way to reach high profits—not with processing losses, labor, and other costs.
But Gu Jinxiao didn’t argue. She simply nodded. “All right.”
Gu Chengye hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. Elated, he added, “Just to be clear, this isn’t me being difficult—you agreed. But talk is cheap. Since all our shareholders are here, why not make it official and sign a pledge?”
He continued, “A typical raw ore contract nets about 30% profit. That’s the industry standard. Let’s just go with that—it’s not unreasonable, right?”
Gu Jinxiao smiled faintly. Neither agreeing nor refusing.
“You’ve really thought this through,” she said coolly. “In that case, let me ask—if I manage to earn more than 30%, is there a reward?”
Gu Chengye thought she was just being prideful. He had reviewed the Starcross contract thoroughly—standard Wusi ore, and even with processing, there was no way it’d exceed 30%. Thinking this might be his moment to prove himself to Aunt Gu, he asked, “What do you want?”
Looking directly at his flushed face, Gu Jinxiao said each word with care:
“I want Starcross.”
The room fell silent.
Gu Chengye blinked, puzzled. “I… don’t understand.”
Starcross was already her responsibility. Why bring it up now?
Gu Jinxiao calmly clarified, “If I succeed, I want Starcross to operate independently, no longer part of Gu Group. Its orders and profits will no longer be shared.”
“What do you mean? Are you saying you want to leave the company and go solo?” a shareholder exclaimed.
“Miss Gu, Gu Group is a unified entity. You can’t just declare independence like this. Does Madam Gu even know?” another senior executive said more gently. “Without Gu Group’s backing, Starcross won’t survive in the market.”
After all, Gu Group’s reach in the energy sector was unmatched.
While the room buzzed with arguments, Gu Chengye remained silent, weighing her intent. Starcross was a small company with only a few hundred employees. If she truly wanted to leave because of overconfidence… it might not be a bad outcome for him.
“Very well,” he said decisively. “Let’s go with your terms.”
Without delay, he rang for the secretary to draft the agreement.
When the papers were brought in, he personally handed the pen to Gu Jinxiao.
She signed without hesitation—her handwriting elegant and bold, just like her.
Gu Chengye then invited the most senior family member present to act as a witness and signed his name after. One copy went to Legal for filing.
“I look forward to your stellar performance,” he said with a smile.
After all, no matter the outcome, this move of hers had essentially forfeited any claim to the Gu Group succession.
Was she too confident—or just naive?
The meeting ended. Gu Jinxiao didn’t linger. She left with Chi Yuejing, leaving only her graceful figure behind.
Gu Chengye watched her go, then turned to a few familiar shareholders. “…There’s still some business we need to discuss. Do you all have a moment?”
“….”
Five days later, at the Outer Galaxy Flight Terminal
A massive interstellar cruise ship hovered in the port like a blue whale on the ocean surface. It was prepped for long-distance travel, waiting for passengers.
Among the crowd, Gu Jinxiao leaned against a railing, watching the view. She wore a soft beige French-style dress, dressed like she was heading on vacation.
Beside her stood Chi Yuejing, also dressed for travel, carrying a suitcase. She shifted slightly, shielding Gu Jinxiao from the bustling crowd so no one would bump into her.
“You don’t need to come with me,” Gu Jinxiao said softly, glancing back.
Sunlight streamed through the transparent dome above the terminal. She squinted slightly, her long lashes catching the golden light in little flickers.
Chi Yuejing stepped forward, quietly blocking the sun with her body. “N92 Mining Planet is near the insectoid border in the outer systems. For safety reasons, I have to go with you.”
More than that, she simply couldn’t bear to let her go alone.
After signing the agreement, Gu Jinxiao had decided to personally oversee the mining operation and escort the ores back on the military ship. Upon hearing this, Chi Yuejing didn’t hesitate for a second—she insisted on coming along.
Because of the long distance, they chose a large commercial cruiser with access to civilian jump lanes—faster and more efficient than small private crafts.
After scanning their tickets at the checkpoint, they boarded with the crowd. The glass dome slowly opened above, revealing the vast blue cosmos.
No matter how many times she’d seen it, Gu Jinxiao still felt awed by that endless blue and the blazing nebulae above. Under such a vast sky, people felt so small, like a fleeting spark in the void.
But this time, she wasn’t alone.
Noticing her silence, Chi Yuejing thought the steps might be difficult to climb. She switched her suitcase to the other hand and reached out with her right hand, smiling: “It’s fine. I’ll walk with you.”
The familiar warmth in her palm soothed her heart like an invisible balm. Gu Jinxiao pursed her lips—she wasn’t sure where this shift in her emotions came from, but as the sky fully opened, she held onto that hand and stepped forward.
The towering ramp connected them to the ship. In the flurry of passengers, few noticed the black planetary car hidden in a shade structure below the dock. Several alert men stood outside, clearly guarding something.
A moment later, a sharp-eyed man returned and knocked on the car window.
“Sir, the mercenary group heading to Planet Patrick has departed. Our ‘cargo’ is aboard.”
There was a brief silence in the car, then a barely audible reply: “Understood.”
Inside, Director Ados of the Inquiries Department rolled the window back up. In the dim light, his gray eyes shimmered with dark intent. Between his fingers, a glinting star-gold coin spun silently.
It had been delivered overnight by the Zeng family—payment for smuggling out a troublesome junior from the capital unnoticed.
He fiddled with the coin briefly, then tossed it aside into the console like junk. Then he carefully pulled out a sealed encrypted communicator and dialed its only contact.