Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX: THE MEASURE OF A MAN
Throughout the entire ordeal, Mr. Chen had remained remarkably quiet. The security personnel had helped him to a plush leather chair in the VIP lounge area, placing his carved wooden cane gently in his hands. He watched his daughter systematically dismantle the young man who had assaulted him.
“Eleanor,” Mr. Chen finally spoke. His voice was raspy, aged, but carried a profound, quiet strength that commanded the room even more effectively than his daughter’s fury.
Eleanor immediately stopped her tirade and rushed to his side, her demeanor softening instantly. “Yes, Baba. Are you in pain? The ambulance is two minutes away.”
“I am fine,” the old man said gently, patting her hand. He slowly stood up, refusing the assistance of the guards. He leaned heavily on his cane and walked over to where Liam was standing, surrounded by security, looking like a hollowed-out shell of a human being.
Liam couldn’t look the old man in the eye. He kept his gaze fixed on his own expensive, Italian leather shoes, which now felt entirely absurd.
“Young man,” Mr. Chen said quietly.
Liam slowly raised his head, tears of humiliation and regret streaming down his face.
“You look at a man’s clothes and you think you know his worth,” Mr. Chen said, his tone devoid of malice, but heavy with sorrowful wisdom. “You look at a shiny car and you think it makes you powerful. True power does not need to announce itself by pushing others down. True wealth is not measured by the things you can buy, but by the things you cannot lose.”
Mr. Chen reached out and gently tapped his wooden cane against Liam’s chest, right over his heart.
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“You are very poor inside,” the old man whispered. “And until you fix that, no amount of money will ever make you rich.”
Mr. Chen turned away, looking back at his daughter. “Let us go home, Eleanor. I am tired of this place. The cars are beautiful, but the company is lacking.”
