Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The second the projector screen lit up, my name was sliced into three segments, hanging right in the middle of the conference room.

“No Prenuptial Agreement Signed; A Marriage Bought for Three Million-A Case of Fraud?” The bolded headline was as sharp as a blade. Below it was a screenshot of me tearing up the agreement on my wedding day, edited to look like an “emotional breakdown.”

The opposing investment director capped his pen, his tone polite but leaving no room for negotiation. “President Xu, if this public sentiment continues to ferment, our board of directors will lean toward suspending our cooperation.”

Cold sweat coated my palms, but I slowly straightened my back. Last night, that unknown number had messaged: “The more you resist, the more I want to see how you’ll clean up the mess.” Today, they had delivered the knife right to my face.

Cheng Xubai turned his head and whispered, “I’ll handle the talk regarding legal risk isolation.”

“I’ll go first,” I interrupted him. I stood up and connected my tablet directly to the large screen. “Three minutes. Listen to what I have to say before you decide whether to pull out or not.”

The conference room fell silent. Someone cleared their throat; a chair shifted slightly.

“First, the ‘three-million-dollar debt’ cited in this article has already been formally filed and accepted by the court. The evidence includes forged bank statements and linked accounts. Second, no transfer of marital property exists between Lu Jingchuan and me. Since the prenuptial agreement was never signed, it is legally invalid. Third, regarding the public opinion attack launched by the Lu Family against our company, we submitted an application for evidence preservation last night.” I clicked on the receipt number. “I am now giving you verifiable milestones for the uncertainty you’re worried about: within seven working days, we will receive the first batch of evidence from the platforms.”

Someone from the other side frowned. “How can you guarantee there won’t be more leaks or exposés in the future?”

I looked at him. “I can’t guarantee others won’t spread rumors, but I can guarantee that I will track down the person responsible for every single one and hold them publicly accountable. You are investing in a project, not my ex.”

Cheng Xubai took over, his speaking pace steady. “We can add a clause to the contract regarding ‘Supplementary Information Disclosure Obligations Triggered by Major Negative Public Sentiment.’ If our side breaches this, we will accept a phased buy-back clause. The risks are transparent, and the costs are calculable.”

The investment director stared at me for a few seconds before finally uncapping his pen again. “Give us twenty-four hours.”

Only after the door closed did my shoulders finally slump, feeling as if I had just been fished out of water. Cheng Xubai handed me a bottle of warm water. He didn’t say “you did well,” but instead noted, “You used the third set of talking points I gave you last night, but you changed the order.”

“Yeah.” I twisted the cap open and gave a small smile. “In the past, I always thought about explaining whether I was a good person first. Today, I led with evidence and consequences.”

He looked at me, the tension in his eyes slowly relaxing. “That is what growth looks like.”

I took two sips of water, but my throat was still dry. “Did you find the source of the text message?”

“The technical team just got back to me.” He handed over his phone, showing a string of tracking paths on the screen. “Overseas jump servers-it’s common. What’s actually useful is the payment account. It went through the outsourcing fees of ‘Haiyue Communications.’ This company started doing brand PR for the Lu Group last year.”

The old suspense finally found a place to land. I stared at the company name; surprisingly, my chest didn’t hurt as much as I expected. It was like a thorn that had been stuck for a long time-I had finally felt the tip of it.

“So it’s not some mystery person,” I said. “It’s them.”

“The current evidence points that way.” Cheng Xubai paused. “There’s one more thing. Your mother contacted me this morning. She wanted to meet me privately, but I declined.”

I looked up. “What did she want with you?”

“To ask you to drop the lawsuit in exchange for a ‘dignified settlement.'” He spoke the word “dignified” very softly, yet it felt like a sharp rap on the table.

My knuckles tightened, but I didn’t respond. Just then, my phone vibrated. The caller ID read: “Mom.”

I answered and put it on speaker.

“Nianhe, are you with that Lawyer Cheng right now?” Her voice was low, as if she was afraid of being overheard. “People are gossiping all outside your father’s hospital room. Do you have to make such a scene of our family?”

“I’m not the one making a scene.”

“You’re talking back now?” Her breathing grew ragged. “The Lu Family is willing to provide a sum of money, enough for your father’s follow-up treatment. Take down those things online and stop pursuing this. When a woman reaches this age, she should leave herself some leeway-”
I cut the call, and the screen went black. The glass of the conference room reflected my face-exhausted, but no longer hollow.

Cheng Xubai didn’t try to persuade me otherwise. He only asked, “Are you going to the hospital? I’ll go with you.”

“Yes.” I put away my tablet. “This time, I’ll be the one to do the talking.”

The smell of disinfectant in the hospital corridor was strong enough to make my eyes sting. My mother was standing by the ward door, clutching a printed “Settlement Intent Agreement.” She rushed toward me the moment she saw me.

“You’re finally here.” She shoved the paper into my hands. “Sign it, and we can start the process this afternoon. The Lu Family said they won’t pursue what happened at the wedding anymore-”

“Pursue?” I let out a short laugh, my voice sounding strangely cold to my own ears. “They forged debts and threatened to delay a scheduled surgery, and now it’s their turn to talk about ‘pursuing’ things?”

“Don’t be so harsh,” she whispered, her eyes rimmed with red. “The thing I’ve feared most my whole life is losing face. Do you really have to turn our family into a laughingstock in front of everyone?”

“You’re afraid of losing face, but I’m afraid of losing my life.” I looked at her. “Since my early twenties, I’ve been the one covering for this family-covering the debts, the emotions, the reputation. I covered for us until I nearly married a con artist. Mom, if you want to sign this paper, sign it yourself. I won’t.”

Her hand trembled, and the paper fluttered to the floor. “How did you become like this?”

I bent down to pick up the agreement and tore it down the middle right in front of her. The sound of the paper ripping was crisp, causing several family members in the corridor to look over.

“I haven’t changed.” I stuffed the two halves back into her hand. “I’m just finally done acting.”

Inside the ward, my father was propped up against the bed. His face was still pale, but his eyes were clear. Seeing me, he lifted a hand. I took it; his palm was only slightly warm, but his grip was steady.

“Do what you have to do,” he said, his voice raspy and every word slow. “Don’t worry about me.”

My throat tightened instantly. I nodded, hard.

By the time I left the ward, it was already dark outside. In the mirror of the elevator, Cheng Xubai and I stood side by side, neither of us speaking first. It wasn’t until we reached the parking lot that he spoke up.

“Nianhe, there’s something I need to say upfront. The evidence battle from here on out will get even dirtier. Out of habit, I might try to shield you from some of the information.”

I stopped in my tracks. “That’s exactly why we always used to have misunderstandings. When you make decisions for me, I start to suspect you’re trying to control me.”

He fell silent for two seconds before nodding. “Then you set the rules.”

I raised my hand and placed the car keys back into his palm. “First, any information related to the case must be shared with me, whether it’s good or bad. Second, I make the final call on any decisions involving me. Third-” I looked at him. “Let’s not rush to define this as love, but let’s not avoid it either. We stand side by side, but with boundaries.”

He tightened his grip on the keys, and the cold hardness in his eyes finally softened. “Deal.”

Just as I was about to get into the car, my phone rang. It wasn’t a text, but a call from a local courier. He said there was an urgent delivery for me at the underground garage security office.

The manila envelope was thin, with no sender listed on the seal. Inside was only a black USB drive and a sticky note. The handwriting was slanted, as if written in a great hurry:

“You think the wedding day was everything? The three million was just the shell. Tonight at 10:00 PM, Old Factory North Gate, come alone. If you’re ten minutes late, all the recordings get deleted.”

It was signed with a single letter: L.

I stared at the note, a chill creeping up my spine inch by inch. Cheng Xubai reached out to take it, but I instinctively pulled back.

His brow furrowed immediately. “You aren’t actually planning to go alone, are you?”

I squeezed the USB drive in my palm, its metal edges digging painfully into my skin, but my heartbeat gradually steadied.

“I’m not going to shoulder everything alone anymore,” I said, looking up at him. “But this time, I want to be the one to open the door.”

The digital clock at the end of the garage jumped to 21:12, the red numbers crawling forward like a countdown.