---
The afternoon sun poured into the study of Jingyun Imperial Estate, the rays softened by gauzy curtains.
The warm glow illuminated polished mahogany shelves, rows of neatly stacked files, and the faint steam curling from a half-drunk cup of black coffee.
Liang Yexuan sat behind his wide desk, a proposal open before him.
His pen tapped lightly against the edge of the paper.
He was dressed casually — a fitted charcoal knit sweater with its sleeves pushed to his forearms, and black lounge trousers that only sharpened the aura of control he carried no matter the attire.
His eyes scanned the document, but the numbers swam and blurred together.
His sharp brows drew slightly together.
He wasn't reading at all.
Instead, his mind drifted back — unbidden — to that morning.
— —
Her eyes.
Large and bright, brimming with mischief as she had spoken with conviction. "Here's the plan. I'll pretend I'm not giving him the sketch. That'll force their spy to act. I'll create a fake version of the sketch that looks like the original. I'll plant it somewhere easy to find—but with a hidden camera. Let's say like on my desk, I'll install a micro camera under the table's edge, angled to record the whole scene."
She was passionate, eyes glinting with mischief and justice.
She had then slapped her palm on her thigh with finality.
"And besides, I don't like being threatened. I'll teach Xu Mingze some manners."
— —
Liang Yexuan's lips pressed into a straight line.
That girl… clever, daring, even reckless.
She had also blurted out her dream of becoming a lawyer, her voice tinged with confidence.
A low, almost imperceptible breath escaped him.
His pen stopped tapping.
"What am I thinking…" he muttered. His voice was low, but sharp as though reprimanding himself.
He shook his head, forcing his eyes back to the page.
But his mind refused to obey.
Another image surfaced.
— —
Across the street, Lin Yue stood by the curb, one hand shielding her eyes as she waved at a casually dressed woman heading into the hospital.
She looked... softer somehow—calmer, quieter.
In her other hand, she clutched a sheet of paper, the edges fluttering in the breeze.
He couldn't see what it was, but the way she held it close to her chest stirred something strange in his chest.
— —
Why had she been there? Was she sick?
The memory pricked at him in an unfamiliar way, stirring an unease he disliked.
— —
Then another memory cut in — that day she'd accidentally entered his private elevator.
He had cornered her, meaning to teach her a lesson.
Yet he remembers the way she'd stammered, backing into the corner more, her hands instinctively coming to rest over her lower abdomen.
— —
His chair scraped back sharply.
He stood abruptly, the tension in his chest unbearable.
What are these thoughts? His brows furrowed. Why should I care if she's unwell? Why should I even remember?
Annoyed, he snatched the glass of water on his desk and downed half in one gulp.
Just as he was about to leave the office, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
His gaze darkened immediately.
This number was private. Hardly anyone had it. Very few had it.
He pulled it out, only to see the name flashing across the screen.
Su Meilin.
Liang Yexuan's brows drew into a deeper frown.
What does she want now?
His thumb hovered over decline.
Yet, for reasons he couldn't name, he didn't press it.
With a sigh of impatience, he accepted the call.
—
On the other end, sobs filled his ear. "Yexuan… Yexuan…" Su Meilin's voice cracked with desperation.
He narrowed his eyes and was about to hang up when her next words stopped him.
"Don't hang up! Please… I need your help."
His voice was cold, distant, utterly expressionless. "What is it."
Her sobs grew louder. "It's… it's my mother. She's missing."
He stilled. Missing?
"What do you mean," his tone dropped lower, sharp.
"I don't know!" Su Meilin's voice trembled. "I came to the hospital and found everyone searching for her. The doctors, the director, even the guards… apparently she was about to take the elevator but then she just disappeared. The cameras— they went dark for three seconds and when they came back… she was gone!"
Three seconds.
Liang Yexuan's jaw clenched.
Three seconds was all it took for a professional to act.
Clean, efficient.
He was silent for several moments.
Su Meilin held her breath on the other end, fear pooling in her chest.
The truth was, Liang Yexuan's dislike for her ran deep.
But her parents…
They had watched him grow up.
Despite everything, they had once treated him with kindness.
That could not be ignored.
Finally, he said coldly, "I'm coming."
And hung up.
—
At the hospital lobby near the elevator, Su Meilin froze, staring at her phone in disbelief.
Did… did he just say he was coming?
Personally?
Liang Yexuan, the aloof, untouchable Yexuan who ignored her calls and barely looked at her, had agreed.
Her heart fluttered, the warmth spreading in her chest so fast she nearly forgot why she'd called him in the first place.
They say you'll know if someone loves you in desperate moments… could it be?
Did Yexuan love her after all?
Quickly, she rummaged through her handbag, pulling out a small mirror.
She dabbed lipstick on her trembling lips, patted powder across her cheeks, and fixed her eyeliner with practiced speed.
—
The receptionist at the counter stared at her in shock.
Wasn't Young Miss crying her eyes out just seconds ago, like a grieving widow a few moments ago?
Now she was fixing her makeup?
And wait— hadn't she just said "Yexuan"… as in CEO Liang?
The receptionist's heart jumped.
She grabbed her phone, fingers flying over the hospital group chat.
—
Receptionist Liu: CEO Liang is coming here!!!
Nurse Chen: NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY
Nurse Xu: Are you serious? The CEO Liang???
Nurse Wang: Oh my god, he's too handsome to be real! If I see him I'll faint.
Dr. Zhao: Calm down everyone… he's not here for you.
Nurse Chen: IDC IDC, even a glimpse is worth a lifetime!!
Nurse Lin: Should I redo my lipstick?? Makeup??? Change my dress??? Oh my gosh!! Will he notice me?!?!!
—
But not far away, in a shadowed corridor few ever entered, the scene was starkly different.
A small, windowless room, dim and suffocating. The faint light of a single bulb flickered above the heavy door.
Two masked men stood guard, one leaning against the wall, the other speaking quietly into a phone.
His voice flowed smoothly in the foreign language.
"Omuwala waffe, ekirabo kyo kitusiddwa."
(Young Miss, your gift has been delivered.)
—
Somewhere in a courtyard, Jenny lounged gracefully under the shade of a tree, her legs crossed elegantly on a stone bench.
A tray of snacks and juice rested on the curved stone table beside her.
The late-afternoon breeze tugged at her soft hair as she laughed, her shoulders shaking lightly.
She imagined the scene — Li Yan screaming, begging, snakes slithering across her trembling body.
The thought alone sent waves of satisfaction through her.
If not for the risk of being seen, she would have gone in personally, to savor the terror with her own eyes.
She lifted her glass lazily and asked, "Ali atya?"
(How is she?)
The man glanced toward the door.
From inside came muffled sounds — the scrape of a chair knocked over, desperate fists pounding wood, hoarse shrieks that broke into sobs.
He smirked. "Akyaakaaba nga mpologoma eyazibwamu."
(She's still screaming like a trapped animal.)
Jenny's lips curved in cruel amusement. "Kale. Ate essawo ery'eddwaliro? Bakyali mu buzibu?"
(Good. And the hospital? Still in chaos?)
The man chuckled. "Yee. Balimu katemba nnyo. Tebamanya kiki ekibakwatidde. Twakimala mu ddakiika bbiri bokka."
(Yes. They're in a total mess. They don't know what hit them. We finished everything in just two seconds.)
Jenny threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing like crystal yet edged with venom. "Kale oli musajja wa maanyi nnyo ku baganzi ba muganda wange… empeera y'ono ngimuwa emirundi ebiri. Naye bw'ogwaako nga oyogedde ku muganda wange oba ku muganda waffe… amaaso go tegajja kulaba ng'enzige."
(You're truly one of the best of my brother's men… I'll double your reward. But if a single word escapes about this to my brother or cousin… your eyes will never see the light again.)
The man stiffened, his voice dropping immediately. "Tetujja kukola kyonna, Omuwala waffe."
(We won't dare, Young Miss.)
They knew better.
Even if the Young Master scolded her, the worst he would do was ignore it.
But Jenny's wrath… it was another level entirely.
To cross her was to beg for death.
Jenny's gaze sharpened as she swirled her juice lazily. "Muzzeemu mumuggale mu biseera byawamu. Mu makumi abiri oba abiri mu bbiri. Bwe banaba nga bamuzudde… mujje mu nsiko ne mubuggya ebisolo ebyo. Mumuleke mu kifo ekyo yekka."
(Keep her inside for another hour or two. When they're about to find her, clear out those slimy friends. Leave her there, broken.)
The man hesitated, then replied, "Kale, Omuwala waffe. Wadde ko nga wayise essaawa emu kati. Waddeko endala… ayinza okufa."
(Okay, Young Miss. It's already been an hour. Another hour… she may die.)
Jenny's laughter rang sharp and wild, echoing cruelly in the quiet courtyard. "Nze siwulira bingi. Y'ani afa oba ayinza okuwonya?"
(Who gives a shit? Whether she dies or survives is none of my concern.)
She hung up without waiting for more.
The two men exchanged glances.
One drew a zipper motion across his lips; the other sighed, his gaze drifting toward the door where the muffled, broken cries still sounded.
"Omukazi omwavu…" he muttered under his breath. Kiki ky'okoze okunyigiriza Omuwala Waffe Omuto?"
(Poor woman… What did you do to offend our Young Miss?)
From inside came another scream, raw and hoarse, rattling the silence of the corridor.
The men straightened, their expressions hardening.
Their orders were clear.
The afternoon sun outside shone bright, but in that dark corridor, time crawled with cruelty.
---