narrow red

Kuangzheng watched Baochan jumping and spinning on the ice. He was a very good skater. He had kung fu. No matter on the stage or on the ice, he was equally dazzling. People around looked at him, whistled and slapped him.

Zhang Rong watched with him, and the two chatted from time to time, and they talked about charity, "I donate 500 million to Tsinghua every year to support needy students," Zhang Rong said, "just like the school helped me back then."

Rich people have some charitable expenditures. The money is not much, but it can increase the popularity and social recognition of the company. It can be regarded as a kind of advertising expenses, and it can also avoid taxes. "How long have you donated?" Kuang Zheng asked.

"I can't remember clearly," Zhang Rong thought for a while, "Not long ago, maybe seven or eight years ago. Donations were not so much before."

It's been seven or eight years, and it hasn't been long?Kuang Zheng glanced at him, it might be fresh snow, or an angelic bloom on the ice, he was in a good mood: "Let me make a trust plan for you."

Zhang Rong was taken aback, and smiled: "Aren't you not doing my business?"

"It's not a business either," Kuang Zheng said, "it's a gift."

Zhang Rong laughed loudly: "I donate to the students, you donate to me?" He waved his hand, "No, the donated money doesn't have to be too clear."

Kuang Zheng thought he was being polite: "Tomorrow, ask your secretary to give me a detailed list of the company's expenses."

"Really not," Zhang Rong said, "The donation is not an act of the company, it is my personal donation."

Speaking of this, Kuangzheng was surprised. A personal donation means that the company does not get any benefit from the expenditure. Whether Zhang Rong is hypocritical or snobbish, at least he is sincere in doing charity.

"500 million a year," Kuang Zheng calculated the account for him, "20 years is 8000 million, if you are willing to take out 6 million at one time to make a trust, managed by professionals, calculated according to the annualized rate of return of 500, every year The trust income can reach [-] million."

Zhang Rong really didn't think about charity, so he couldn't help showing a surprised expression.

"After the trust is established, you only need to distribute the trust income according to the agreement every year," Kuang Zheng told him, "The 8000 million will exist for a long time, even if you go bankrupt or die, it will still continue."

Zhang Rong was persuaded that a mere 8000 million yuan would still be able to help those in need after his death, so he immediately made a decision: "Okay, no problem!"

"Then Wan Rongzhen will take over this job," Kuang Zheng said calmly, "I don't need your service fee."

"Thanks," Zhang Rong didn't say much, just called out, "Brother."

Kuang Zheng smiled. The recent incident with Fang Chengcheng gave him a new understanding of wealth. In the past, he longed for wealth and pursued it, as if it was a dead thing, and once he got it, he would once and for all.But now he knows that wealth is alive, it will choose its owner, and it will abandon others. It is not easy to keep it for a long time.

On the ice, Baochan raised his left leg backwards, trying to do a somewhat difficult one-foot spin, but maybe he didn't grasp the speed well, so he threw it halfway and fell hard.

Kuang Zheng stood up vigorously and shouted, "Baochan!"

It was just a fall, but his reaction was so big, Zhang Rong watched him run towards the ice with his butt hanging in the snow, slipped step by step and rushed to Baochan's side, and helped him back.

"Are you all right?" Zhang Rong went up to meet him.

"It's okay," Baozhan laughed wildly, "I just fell off my ass!"

Butt pier, a word I haven’t heard for many years, it comes from the mouth of Boss Bao of Ruyizhou, Zhang Rong is a little unbelievable for this popular man who is surrounded by many big shots. When I came out, my expression changed: "Hello...Mr. Kang."

Mr. Kang?Zhang Rong has the impression that Ruyizhou's regular customers are quite old, and they come to join every time there is a play.

"Sorry..." Baochan said in a low voice, "I really can't go, we have rules... Yes, please forgive me."

Zhang Rong noticed Kuangzheng's expression, which was angry and ferocious. After Baochan cut off the call, he even said, "He calls again, let's call the police."

"Mr. Kuang," Zhang Rong couldn't help asking, "Can you help me?"

"No need," Baochan limped and smiled at him, "Please sing a concert, if you don't go, you'll be fine."

Please go to the house to sing an opera. Zhang Rong understood it as soon as he heard it, and didn't say anything else.

Before breaking up, Zhang Rong reciprocated and provided Kuang Zheng with a piece of information: In 2009, Union Credit Bank of Switzerland established a corporate university at the foot of St. The Asia-Pacific region is open for registration, and at the end of the month there will be a two-week leadership training course for the second generation of rich people.

Zhang Rong has connections and can recommend Wanrong Zhenhui to the past.

This kind of opportunity cannot be missed. The training class is about learning, and more about expanding the circle. Among the students in the same period, there are top rich successors from Japan, South Korea, Southeast Asia, and even Australia, which means a circle of friends all over the world. And business opportunities, but also to get in touch with the old European family management experience, no one does not flock to it.

"Thank you," Kuang Zheng stretched out his hand to Zhang Rong, "Brother."

"You're welcome." Zhang Rong held him. This was their second handshake after Youqin consulted with the salon last time. The two people who should have become partners, went round and round, and finally turned hostility into friendship here.

Kuangzheng helped Baochan to the parking lot, and asked worriedly: "Your legs are like this, can you go on stage tomorrow?"

"Legs are fine," Baochan said embarrassedly, "butt hurts."

"The root of the tail?" Kuangzheng was afraid that he would drop his tailbone, and he would suffer for it.

"No," Baochan snorted, "ass."

Buttie, why is this kid so cute, Kuangzheng took the opportunity of holding him and hugged him: "I'll rub it for you when I go back, push half a bottle of safflower oil, and make sure you come on stage tomorrow as it is."

"Farewell," Baochan's cheekbones turned red, "give me the oil, and I'll rub it myself."

This little old man, Kuang Zheng teased him: "As the saying goes, one's own buttocks can't be rubbed by oneself."

"How can there be such a sentence..." Baochan muttered, leaning half on his body, the two of them left a long string of footprints on the gradually melting snow.

The next day was Monday, Kuangzheng went to the company to arrange the Swiss training class first, then went upstairs into the office, took out his mobile phone and opened the address book, there was only one person in front of Baochan's name - Bai Yinwu.

He took a deep breath, clicked on the call, put the phone to his ear, one, two, three times, the dial tone sounded for a long time, and it was answered with a tired voice: "Hello."

It was Lao Bai's voice, Kuang Zheng recognized it, but it was much hoarse and dull: "It's me."

They haven't been in touch for a long time, Bai Yinwu was silent for a moment, with the same smile as before: "You boy, you still know how to call me!"

When he said "you boy", Kuangzheng's heart trembled, he didn't expect it, and he was so excited when he heard the master's voice again: "What's the matter, Lao Bai," he asked with concern, "Are you tired?"

He called him Lao Bai, not Boss Bai, and Bai Yinwu immediately knew that they were still the same as before, trusting each other, and having a deep friendship: "It's okay," he cheered up, "a bunch of bad things."

"It's just right," Kuang Zheng said, "I have a training class going to Switzerland. I will bring a group of second-generation students there for two weeks. Come with me and relax."

It was justifiable to arrange paid leave for him. Bai Yinwu understood, but refused: "You guys go, there are a few big projects recently, I can't leave."

"There's nothing you can't get away from," Kuang Zheng sneered. Duan Xiaojun said that the head office sent an administrative director to distribute his powers, "Isn't there a freelancer, let him bear it."

Bai Yinwu laughed, and while laughing, he coughed twice: "That kind of person can't stand up to a fart," he became serious, "The investment banking department is my painstaking effort, and the person who should stand up here is me, and I am the only one who can do it." Hold it up."

Kuang Zheng raised his eyebrows, Bai Yinwu has not changed, he is still the steel-framed, uncompromising guy in the past, but it is different now, the investment banking department is not his alone, it belongs to Wanrong, it belongs to the intriguing board of directors, it is a victim, It's the battlefield, it's not that he can turn the tide by risking his life.

"You did a good job, kid." Bai Yinwu changed the subject, "You didn't disgrace me, an old bastard."

"Hey," Kuang Zheng said, regardless of age, "what are you talking about, who is an old man, you are in your prime!"

Bai Yinwu let out a long breath, coughed again: "I'm getting old," these words, he only said to Kuang Zheng, "After you left, I'm getting old faster."

Kuangzheng's eyes suddenly became hot: "Old Bai, you wait for me," he lowered his voice, saying that he had never said anything to anyone, "You wait for me to make a show, come here, Wanrong Zhenhui belongs to both of us !"

Bai Yinwu didn't make a statement right away, there was a continuous blank in the receiver, and he spoke again, "Kendrick, you are still young, and you can't see through many things."

Kuang Zheng was not convinced, there was nothing he couldn't see through, in the business field, he always believed in Caesar's words, "I have come, I have seen, I have conquered", he has a lot of reasons to say, but there are people on Bai Yinwu's side Come on, I had to hang up the phone in a hurry.

Clutching the mobile phone, Kuang Zheng called Feng Kuan and asked for Du Maomao's contact information. Feng Kuan was taken aback for a moment, and joked with him: "Why are you so handsome, you changed your mind?"

"Fuck you," there is no leeway in the matter of men and women, "I will run a trust."

Feng Kuan curled his lips: "Don't you have her cell phone number?"

"Deleted," Kuang Zheng said confidently, "give me the office number."

Feng Kuan stopped talking nonsense, gave him Du Maomao's phone number, and reminded him: "Suppress your bad temper."

"Got it." Kuang Zheng cut off the call and called Du Maomao directly.

The other side picked it up in a very professional tone: "Hello, Wanrong Trust, Du Maomao."

Like her, Kuangzheng puts the company first: "Wanrong Zhenhui, Kuangzheng."

The other side was stunned for a long time, and said in disbelief, "Mr. Kuang... hello."

Kuang Zheng went straight to the point without dragging his feet: "I have a charitable trust, and I want to trouble Manager Du."

Du Maomao could hear what he meant, so he pretended to be relaxed and said, "Okay," and then changed into a questioning tone, "Individual or company?"

"personal."

"financial consultant?"

"Wan Rong Zhen Hui."

"Beneficiary?"

"One hundred poor students submitted by Tsinghua University every year."

"Type and amount of entrusted assets?"

"Monetary funds, 8000 million yuan."

"Duration?"

"Permanent," Kuang Zheng answered fluently, "It cannot be changed."

"What about the scope of investment?"

"Stable bank wealth management products, treasury bonds, financial bonds, central bank bills, and AA-rated bonds."

Professionally you come and go, they are evenly matched, Du Maomao finally couldn't help it, and asked in a low voice: "Why don't you let Feng Kuan contact me?"

"There's nothing to hide in the first place," Kuang Zheng said frankly, "I like to go straight."

"Understood," Du Maomao said, "wait for my reply."

Hanging up the phone, Kuang was leaning back on the comfortable executive chair. The office was very quiet. He couldn't help raising his right hand and smelling the safflower oil on his fingertips. Laughed.