Chapter 142: Our Current Peace Is Because Someone Is Carrying the Burden for Us

Chapter 142: Chapter 142: Our Current Peace Is Because Someone Is Carrying the Burden for Us

Rian Sinclair lowered her head slightly. Giving away those three hundred billion was well worth it. After all, money was just paper that could be earned back eventually, not to mention she still had the black card provided by the system.

However, she only had one life. Who could guarantee she wouldn’t end up being ganged up on in the future? It was always best to leave herself an out.

Seeing her expression, the old man couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "I’ll thank you right here then, little girl."

Rian smiled and shook her head. "Sir, we are in an equal partnership. There’s no such thing as one person taking advantage of the other. This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, so there’s no need for thanks."

The old man smiled and nodded at her correction. Sometime later, Ronan Ford returned to the office. By then, Rian was already engaged in a conversation with the old man about public affairs.

"I heard you have an entertainment company under your belt."

Rian paused slightly mid-sip. "Yes, sir."

The old man chuckled softly. "No need to be nervous. The higher-ups received the documents regarding your variety show. Your ideas are quite bold!"

Rian smiled shyly.

"But that industry really does need a good cleaning," the old man continued.

She nodded in agreement. It seemed the official government directives would be issued shortly. However, she had already purged her company the moment she took over.

"You are entirely right, sir. The current entertainment industry is far from being as clean as it appears on the surface."

She meant every word of it. The entertainment circle was incredibly lucrative, with average salaries far exceeding those of technical personnel and scientists. Today’s industry was rife with transactional relationships exchanging favors and bodies, nowhere near as pure as it had been for the previous generations.

A look of melancholy crossed the old man’s face. He picked up the teacup from the table and took a sip. "You did the right thing, Young Miss Sinclair.

"Too many people in the entertainment industry engage in dirty transactions to secure resources, gain traffic, and ultimately rake in massive profits. Yet, despite acquiring so much wealth, they still break the law and evade taxes.

"Why do you think that is?"

Listening to the old man, Rian recalled that she used to wonder the exact same thing. They earned so much, and taxes were just a fraction of it—not even half. Why were they so unwilling to pay when they would still have plenty left over? Later, she understood. The sums they amassed were so astronomical that even the tax percentage amounted to an enormous fortune. They couldn’t bear to part with it, so they devised every possible method to evade paying.

"Human greed is a bottomless pit," Rian said. "Not everyone possesses legal awareness or the willingness to abide by the law. Tax evasion is something you either do zero times, or countless times."

The old man laughed softly and waved a hand. Ronan stepped closer. "Ronan, let’s roll out that directive gradually. We can’t afford to chill the hearts of the others."

Ronan gave a quiet murmur of assent. Rian sat upright to the side as the old man continued, "Young Miss Sinclair, do you know how difficult things used to be in the past?"

Rian nodded solemnly. How could she not know? The predecessors had carved out a bloody path with their very lives. The peace they enjoyed today was only possible because others had carried the heavy burden forward on their behalf.

In the past, they had nothing and suffered endless humiliation from foreign nations. It was the previous generations who, with their bare hands, had slowly pieced together a magnificent blueprint. Her generation only needed to add color to that canvas, building upon the foundation that had already been laid. Hearing the old man speak of these things made her even more acutely aware of the hardships their forebears had endured.

"Sir, we are well aware of the struggles of our predecessors. The days of the past will never repeat themselves. Today, we will break free from foreign shackles. No longer will our inventions be controlled by foreign powers."

Rian knew her words sounded a bit boastful, but that was exactly the direction she intended to take in the future. If an invention needed funding, she would throw money at it. If a theory required brilliant minds, she would gather them. The days when Veridia was oppressed would never return; Veridia would only grow stronger and better.

The old man fell silent for a moment before a smile broke across his face. He nodded. "The future of Veridia will be placed in the hands of you young people. The nation’s continued development will rely entirely on your generation."

He spoke lightly, but a lump formed in Rian’s throat. "Sir, you and your peers must stick around to enjoy the great nation we build."

The old man let out a hearty laugh. "Let’s not dwell on this. I heard my grandson mention you before. I had some impression of you back then, but my official duties got in the way and I never found the time to meet you. Seeing you today... you possess a boldness rarely found in modern youth. It is truly commendable."

Flustered by his praise, Rian smiled sheepishly. "You flatter me, sir. I only crossed paths with Young Master Shaw once before because of the matter concerning The Tipsy Abode."

The old man paused for a long moment. "We really troubled you with his grandfather’s affairs."

Rian shook her head. "It was no trouble at all, sir. Since I acquired The Tipsy Abode, it was only natural for me to lend a hand."

The old man’s gaze grew even kinder. He pulled Ronan over.

"This young man is Ronan Ford. His grandfather is an old comrade-in-arms of mine. He currently serves as a commander in The Eastern Sector. You’re both young and should have plenty to talk about. Once Connor Shaw finishes his work and returns, you youngsters should go out and have some fun together."

Rian caught the underlying meaning in the old man’s words and smiled.

"I’ve exchanged a few words with Commander Ford. He is insightful and knowledgeable—a rare find for a friend. Once Young Master Shaw is back, it would be lovely for us young people to get together and make friends."

The old man didn’t press the matter further. "You can get in touch when the time comes. I’m just an old man; I won’t interfere anymore."

Watching Rian converse so fluently with the old man, Ronan couldn’t help but feel a twinge of admiration. The old man, equally surprised by her vision and erudition, couldn’t resist asking, "May I ask who you studied under, Young Miss Sinclair?"

Rian gently set down her teacup. "My mentor, Julian Sinclair."

Hearing that name, the old man froze mid-sip. He slowly lowered his teacup and stared at her for a long time before finally speaking.

"No wonder. A student taught by Julian Sinclair naturally possesses impeccable knowledge, cultivation, and bearing. He taught you well! He truly lives up to the title of a peerless scholar of the nation he was crowned with in his youth."

Rian was completely unaware of this. While she lived with her mentor, she could tell he was no ordinary man, but she never understood why he had ended up in a remote little village in Basilia. Perhaps it was the doing of the higher-ups back then, or maybe his brilliance had threatened someone else’s interests, leading to his suppression.

She knew far too little about his past. She had never known that he had been hailed as an unparalleled national treasure. His status in Kyoro must have been considerable. So why did he remain in Sinclair Village until the day he died?

Looking back on the days they spent together, she recalled that he had never been willing to talk about his past. Whenever the topic came up, he would merely laugh it off. Therefore, she was genuinely surprised that the old man knew him.

"You knew my mentor, sir?"