The Billionaire Businesswoman Searches for Her Lost Son: I acquire my mother’s billion-dollar enterprise

The room was still as Song Yazhi’s words faded, her calm yet commanding tone carrying an undeniable weight. Across from her, Song Ziwei’s eyes sparkled with intrigue as she turned toward her brother, Qin Yuan, who leaned back in his chair with the poise of a man who had seen storms and conquered them.

Song Yazhi’s gaze softened but held a sharp edge of determination. She had made up her mind the moment Lei Jun proposed the audacious billion-yuan bet. This wasn’t just about pride; it was an opportunity to elevate her son beyond the shadow of her legacy. She refused to let Qin Yuan carry only the title of “the richest woman’s son.” The world would know him by his own name, his own achievements.

“Xiao Yuan, your mother has never backed down from a challenge in her life,” Song Yazhi said, her lips curving into a slight smile that carried a glint of steel.

Qin Yuan exhaled softly, his own smile mirroring hers. He understood the meaning behind her words. “I get it, Mom. If this is what you want, I’ll follow through.”

“That’s the spirit.” Song Yazhi’s smile deepened, and without missing a beat, she picked up her phone and posted a response on Weibo. Her words radiated the confidence of someone accustomed to dominating the business world.

“Boss Lei, it seems you haven’t learned your lesson. Fine, let’s continue the billion-yuan bet. This time, our sons will take the stage. Let’s see who comes out on top.”

The post landed like a thunderclap. Within moments, it was shared, dissected, and commented on across every corner of the internet.

“The Iron Lady has spoken! This is going to be epic!”

“Renault vs. Qin Yuan! A battle of the second generation! Place your bets!”

“Wait, Qin Yuan? Isn’t he just a lucky guy riding on his mom’s coattails?”

The chatter online grew feverish, with speculation running wild. The skeptics were quick to dismiss Qin Yuan’s chances, but others, intrigued by his mysterious background, began to dig deeper.

Back at Courtyard No. 3 in Tan Palace, the family began winding down for the night. Qin Yuan, after a long day, excused himself to freshen up. In his absence, Song Yazhi’s mind turned to the challenge ahead. She gestured toward Song Ziwei, her voice firm yet thoughtful.

“Girl, Xiao Yuan mentioned his company abroad. Lingyin, wasn’t it? Look it up. I want to know exactly what we’re working with.”

“Yes, Mom,” Song Ziwei replied, already pulling out her phone. She entered the name into her networks, cross-referencing databases with practiced ease.

The minutes passed quietly until a sharp gasp escaped Ziwei’s lips.

“Mom! You won’t believe this!” Her voice trembled with disbelief.

Song Yazhi looked up from her book, her calm composure giving way to concern. “What is it, girl?” she asked, setting the book down as a servant adjusted the basin where she was soaking her feet.

Ziwei was frozen in her seat, her expression cycling between shock, astonishment, and awe. Her hands trembled as she thrust the phone toward her mother. “You have to see this for yourself.”

The same discovery was being made across the internet. Curious netizens, spurred by the drama of Lei Jun’s challenge, began digging into the enigmatic Lingyin Group. At first, the Chinese name caused confusion, delaying the search, but soon, the truth emerged—and it was explosive.

Lingyin Group, headquartered in California, was no ordinary company. Though it operated in near anonymity, its impact was staggering: its mobile phones commanded 60% of the market share in Africa.

The revelation hit the internet like a wildfire. Social media platforms were flooded with posts, each one amplifying the story.

“Lingyin: The King of Africa’s Mobile Phone Market!”

“The Billion-Yuan Bet: Lei Jun’s Robot Dog Faces the Unstoppable Qin Yuan!”

One by one, netizens unearthed details of Lingyin’s success. Its phones were affordable yet robust, perfectly tailored to the needs of the African market. The company’s dominance was unparalleled, earning it the moniker “King of Africa” in the mobile phone industry.

Back in the Tan Palace living room, Song Yazhi scanned the details on Ziwei’s phone, her expression shifting from surprise to pride. She placed the device down and leaned back, a triumphant smile playing on her lips.

“My son,” she murmured, her voice soft yet filled with unmistakable pride. “The world underestimated you.”

Meanwhile, netizens were reeling from the revelation.

“Oh my god, Qin Yuan is a beast!”

“This isn’t just a lucky guy—this is a business genius!”

“Mr. Lei might want to rethink that bet. Looks like the game is already over.”

Even as praise poured in, Lei Jun’s supporters scrambled to defend Renault. Some pointed to the innovative AI behind the robot dog project, while others argued that Lingyin’s focus on Africa wasn’t comparable to Renault’s high-tech aspirations.

But the numbers didn’t lie. Lingyin was a powerhouse, and its quiet success had suddenly become the loudest noise on the internet.

As the night deepened, Qin Yuan returned to the living room, toweling his hair dry. He glanced at the animated expressions on his mother and sisters’ faces.

“What did I miss?” he asked casually.

Song Yazhi smiled warmly, motioning for him to sit. “You didn’t tell us your company was this remarkable,” she said, pride evident in her voice.

Qin Yuan raised a brow. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Well, it does,” Song Yazhi replied, her tone turning playful but firm. “Because now, the world knows who you are.”

And as the Lingyin Group’s reputation soared, Qin Yuan felt a quiet satisfaction. The game had only just begun, but one thing was clear: Lei Jun’s gamble had woken a sleeping giant.