Reborn in Tokyo: From Heiress to Global Tycoon

Chapter 343 Blood Transfusion

After he finished speaking, the air in the room seemed to freeze.

Longdao heard his own heartbeat suddenly become very loud. The weight of those words had gone beyond mere politeness, and could not be encompassed by ordinary business terms.

Sumitomo Honke handed over a noose—one end around his own neck, and the other end to the girl in light purple who was visiting.

Do you feel humiliated?

Longdao didn't realize it. The Sumitomo zaibatsu is now riddled with problems, all thanks to those people from the Hakusui-kai.

They are just a bunch of businessmen who use the Sumitomo name but have no shame and are only after profit.

The Saionji family is currently enjoying great power and influence, and they share the same ethnicity as the Sumitomo family. The girl before them is incredibly capable; one might say it's not such a bad thing that the Sumitomo family could become the Saionji family's "dogs."

Mitsui, who was in a similar situation to Sumitomo, was also tormented by the Nikikai. If Sumitomo hadn't joined the Saionji family now, they might have ended up in the same boat as Mitsui.

Thinking of this, Longdao looked at his father's face again, which seemed quite humiliated—wait a minute, how could his father not understand a principle that he himself could comprehend…

Oh, right, right, if I don't show some pain at this moment, how will the other party feel that Sumitomo has paid a great price?

He tried to clench his teeth, but he looked more like he was constipated.

Xiu Yi across from him moved. He reached out, picked up the red envelope, and pulled out the document inside.

He read through them one by one, and when he got to the last page, his gaze lingered on the signature area for three seconds—there were two signatures there, one for "Sumitomo Yoshio" and the other for "Saionji Shuichi".

Below the signature area is the stamp area, and Sumitomo's square seal has already been affixed.

He nodded after reading it and handed the document to Satsuki.

Satsuki took the document. She moved slowly, her fingers gripping the edge of the document as she turned the pages one by one.

Longdao noticed that her smile seemed to be getting brighter and brighter.

Then she closed the file and gently placed it on the coffee table, pressing it down on top of the washi paper sheet.

“Mr. Sumitomo should be aware of this,” Satsuki said. “Once this authorization takes effect, the ‘blood type’ of the Sumitomo Group’s manufacturing industry will change—for the first time, the blood of the Saionji family will flow into their foreign trade settlement channels.”

Yoshifu straightened his back a little.

"Rather than letting the short-sighted Hakusuikai group completely ruin Sumitomo, I would rather accept a complete overhaul."

Satsuki tilted her head slightly, her gaze falling on Yoshio's face.

Her posture became more casual, and she tilted her head slightly.

"Even if this means," Satsuki continued, her speech a beat slower than before, "that Sumitomo's influence in the manufacturing sector will shift from 'dominance' to 'advice'?"

Fangfu fell silent.

The silence lasted a long time.

Changdelongdao could hear the rustling of the wind through the Nandina domestica in the courtyard, the tinkling of wind chimes in the distance, and the long, drawn-out cry of a crow as it swept across the sky from east to west.

Then Yoshio spoke. His voice was deep, as if squeezed from the bottom of his chest, each word heavy and clear.

"A family name that has lasted for four hundred years cannot be ruined by a group of bankers who only know how to do accounting. It is enough that the Saionji family can preserve the Sumitomo name."

He looked into Satsuki's eyes.

"The Chinese people should prioritize the continuation of their family name."

After he said that, the air in the room seemed to loosen.

Longdao sensed it. It was a very subtle change, like a taut string suddenly being loosened; although it was still vibrating, it was no longer in danger of breaking.

He looked at his father—Yoshio's shoulders slumped slightly. He looked across at the other side—Shuichi's fingers stopped on his knees, no longer tapping; Satsuki's hand moved from the edge of the teacup and rested on the documents.

Shuichi took over the conversation.

"Saionji family has accepted the collaboration. Specific details will be handled directly by the Department of Commerce and the president of the Sumitomo Group's manufacturing division."

He glanced at Longdao. His gaze lingered for half a second before shifting away.

"Young Master Longdao is welcome to come to Tokyo at any time if needed."

This is a polite way of saying something, a way for an elder to be courteous to a younger person.

But Longdao understood the unspoken meaning—the words "need" implied possibility; the words "at any time" implied an open door.

The other party made no promise, but that was more useful than a promise.

This is a thread that, from today onwards, is tied between him and the Saionji family.

Satsuki added softly.

"The technical review by Hakusui is expected to continue for another two to three weeks. During this period, Murata, the executive director of Sumitomo Chemical, can conduct a trial transaction—using a letter of credit from Saionji Corporation to complete the first overseas settlement."

She paused for a moment. "The initial limit will be capped at five million US dollars. The documentation requirements and review process will be handled directly between the Commercial Department and Managing Director Murata. If all goes well—" a slight smile played on her lips, "subsequent limits can be gradually increased."

Fangfu nodded slightly.

He didn't say anything more, reached out and pushed the red envelope back to the center of the table, then stood up, his movements slow but steady.

Ryudo stood up, and the two bowed to Shuichi and Satsuki again—this time the angle of the bow was five degrees shallower than when they entered.

Shuichi did not stand up. He simply bowed slightly and gently pressed his right hand on his knee as a return gesture.

Satsuki didn't stand up either. She simply raised her eyes and watched the two walk towards the shoji gate.

Her gaze did not linger on Fangfu, but instead fell on Longdao's back—it lingered for two seconds, then shifted to the red berries of the Nandina domestica outside the window.

Fujita was waiting outside the door. He opened the shoji door, stepped aside to let him pass, and remained as respectful as ever.

As he crossed the courtyard, Longdao slowed his pace somewhat compared to when he arrived.

This time, he had the mind to appreciate the Saionji family's garden. His gaze swept over the white sand of the dry landscape garden again; the rake marks were still neat, but the wet marks on the surface of the flying stone seemed to be deeper—or perhaps the light had changed, and the angle of the shadows cast was different.

When he reached the top of the stone steps, he couldn't help but look back.

He didn't mention that matter after all. For some reason, he felt a sense of relief, but also a touch of regret.

The shoji doors to the reception room were closed. Warm yellow light shone through the paper doors, casting two blurry shadows—one sitting, the other turned to the side, as if they were talking.

The shadow was still, frozen behind that thin layer of washi paper.

"Father," Longdao turned around and asked in a low voice. There was a slight tremor in his voice that he himself didn't realize. "How much do you think... they'll believe?"

Fangfu was already descending the stone steps. His leather shoes tapped on the stone slabs, once, twice, with a steady rhythm.

Hearing Longdao's question, he stopped, but did not turn around.

"Yoshio's realization is real." Ryudo heard his father say—no, Yoshio was repeating what Satsuki had just said.

No, that's not right. Yoshio was answering another question, one that Takado hadn't asked aloud.

"But not all the presidents of the manufacturing companies in the Sumitomo Group are willing to jump ship with their parent companies."

Longdao was stunned. He stood at the top of the stone steps, watching his father's back as he walked down step by step.

The sunlight cast a long shadow of Fangfu onto the stone pavement, its edges slightly distorted.

"So she needs to use Sumitomo Chemical's test order first," Yoshio continued, his voice slightly muffled by the wind but still clear. "When the first letter of credit is issued, Hakusui will definitely be furious. The angrier they are, the clearer the manufacturing company presidents will be—they have no way out."

Ryūdō stood still, his gaze sweeping across the courtyard, past the closed shoji door, and landing in the direction of the reception room.

He couldn't see anything except the warm yellow glow cast by the washi lantern and the faint, deepening twilight at the edge of the glow.

"But with this," Yoshio's voice came from below the stone steps, tinged with weariness, "the Sumitomo family is now completely tied down."

Longdao suddenly understood many things.

"..."

He took a step down the stone steps and walked to his father's side.

The two walked one after the other toward the car parked on the side of the road.

The car door closed. The engine started. The car slowly drove away.

In the rearview mirror, the lattice wooden door of the Saionji family gradually shrank, eventually becoming a blurry dark brown square, embedded in the courtyard background as dusk deepened.

The outline of the stone lantern is still visible, and moss stretches out in the shadows.

Ryudo turned his gaze back to his father sitting beside him. Yoshio had his eyes closed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on his knees in a slow rhythm, as if he were counting something.

The car drove onto the Capital Expressway and merged into the evening traffic.

The Tokyo skyline began to emerge in the distance, the glass curtain walls of the high-rise buildings reflecting the afterglow of the setting sun, and golden-red spots of light flowing across the car windows.

Longdao did not speak again.

He simply looked out the window, watching the light and shadows shatter, reform, and shatter again on the glass.

Starting today, the blood type of the Sumitomo family will change.