"Take it slow, Uncle, don’t rush. When my father took over the Grant Group from my grandfather, it was heavily in debt and on the brink of bankruptcy. Yet, my father managed to turn things around and save the Grant Group from disaster, leading it into a period of prosperity.

This story is still enthusiastically talked about by the current shareholders; they haven’t forgotten my father’s achievements. If you, Uncle, can turn an unprofitable, obscure subsidiary into a thriving business, the other Grant Group shareholders will naturally see your accomplishments. At that point, you can then plan your next steps, and Uncle Miles won’t be able to compete with you."

Shawn Grant doesn’t have any real skills; he just loves to show off.

Now, with a few words from South Grant, Shawn Grant seemed to envision his bright future at Aetherium.

The anger that was on his face just moments ago was now replaced with a broad smile as he looked at South Grant.

"When that day comes, South, rest assured, your uncle will not let you down."

South Grant didn’t take Shawn Grant’s words seriously; currently, Shawn Grant was just a pawn in her hand, a piece standing before South Grant.

Since she couldn’t confront Miles Grant directly, she would have to use Shawn Grant to battle him.

"As long as Uncle is fine, that’s all that matters. I just came by to check on you today. If you have time, have your assistant send me the information about the artists under Aetherium to my email. I’ll help you draft a development plan; if you find it feasible, you can use it."

Hearing this, Shawn Grant thought of how South Grant had previously advised him to avoid direct confrontations and plan carefully, and he felt that South Grant was someone with great ideas.

After all, sending a list of the Aetherium artists wouldn’t take much effort.

If her development plan was good, it would be beneficial for him.

"I’ll have my assistant send it over to you in a bit. You can see it tonight."

"Great, since that’s the case, I won’t bother you any longer, Uncle. I’ll go home and study for my exams."

When South Grant was heading back, she initially wanted to take a cab but then realized she didn’t have enough money in her pocket.

So, she found a bus stop and figured out a shorter route to take the bus back home.

It was rush hour, and the bus was crowded with no available seats, so South Grant, like the other passengers, held onto the handrail, swaying with the bus’s movements.

Just then, South Grant saw a hand reach out and grope a girl’s backside.

Followed by a sharp slap.

Those around thought a fight was about to break out and quickly stepped back.

South Grant looked up and saw a girl clutching a man’s collar.

The man’s face had a clear handprint; the girl didn’t seem to be letting go, as a second slap quickly followed, knocking the man’s glasses to the ground.

The documents he was holding fell and scattered everywhere.

South Grant looked at the man, noticing he was somewhat thin, very tall, but carried himself in a refined manner.

Faced with the girl’s slaps and the whispers and discussions from the surrounding crowd, he was utterly ashamed and angry.

As South Grant watched him, he seemed familiar as if she’d seen him somewhere before.

Her gaze then fell to the ground, where the prominent words on his scattered documents made her instantly recall his identity.