Xu Duoduo never imagined she'd have anything to do with the words "ten billion." She earns 7,200 yuan a month, has 36,000 yuan in savings, and the most expensive thing she owns is the old bracelet on her wrist, worn smooth and shining. Then her father is hospitalized, and a lawyer hands her a power of attorney. In the chairman's signature box is her father's name, written with a flowing elegance that looks nothing like the three crooked characters she'd seen on her report cards.
Xu International: ten billion yuan in debt, three thousand employees, suppliers blocking the doors, an acquisition firm pushing down the price, and people on the board trying to sideline her.
Xu Duoduo: I can't read financial statements, but I can do the math. Who's spending too much, who's owed too much, who's slacking off: you don't need an MBA for that. You just need to look.
Gu Yanshen, the acquisition firm's CEO, takes one look at her and says, "You're shabbier than I expected." Xu Duoduo shoots back, "You dressed up this nicely to come to the ICU. Are you here to acquire the company or attend a funeral?"
Three months. If the company survives, she stays. If it dies, she leaves.
But nobody told her the hardest part wouldn't be the business battle. It would be opening the note her father hid in his desk drawer. It says: I'm sorry I left you to carry all this alone.
