The digital dashboard in Liang Chen's private office at Dragon Crest Manor glowed with a soft, steady hum. It was late, past midnight, but he was still there, lost in the intricate dance of data that flowed through Horizon Tech's vast computer networks. He liked to keep an eye on things himself, long after most of his security team had gone home. It wasn't about not trusting them completely; it was about his own deep need to be in control, to know every pulse and beat of his company's digital heart.
Tonight, as he scanned the complex lines of code and the real-time numbers showing how everything was working, a tiny red flicker caught his eye. It was an anomaly. Not a huge, screaming alarm, not a total system crash. It was much, much smaller than that. Think of it like a single, quiet cough in a perfectly silent room. A tiny surge of data, almost invisible, jumping from a secure, internal server to an unknown address outside the company. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, maybe just a fraction of a second, before the numbers smoothly went back to normal. Most people wouldn't have even noticed it. Even his highly paid security team, experienced as they were, might have missed it in the endless stream of data they dealt with every day. But Liang Chen wasn't "most people." His mind, sharp and trained by years of hard work, and with a natural habit of noticing every tiny detail, picked up on it.
He leaned forward, his fingers flying over the keyboard, pulling up old records, checking times and dates. The data that had moved was quickly hidden, like a secret message, and the outside address it went to was instantly masked. It was gone, like a ghost in the machine, leaving no clear trace. He flagged it right away, sending an urgent message to Mr. Chen, his head of security. The message was short and clear: "Look into unusual micro-burst transfer, Server 7, 02:33:45 AM. Find out where it went."
Liang Chen sat back, a slight frown forming between his eyebrows. A worrying feeling started to grow deep inside him, like a small knot tightening. It wasn't a clear thought yet, not logic. It was more of a gut feeling, a cold prickle of discomfort that whispered something was very wrong. He had poured his entire life into Horizon Tech, learning every single detail, understanding its complicated digital systems better than anyone. This tiny blip just felt… off. It was like a very faint tremor before an earthquake, too small for most people to feel, but enough to make the most sensitive equipment vibrate.
The next morning, Mr. Chen, a man whose tired eyes showed he worked long hours and dealt with endless security threats, came to report back. "Mr. Liang, we've looked into it," he said, holding a tablet. "It seems to be just a leftover network leak from a regular software update we did last night. It's a small, known bug. Nothing to worry about. We've fixed it." He sounded calm, trying to reassure Liang Chen.
Liang Chen listened carefully, his eyes fixed on Mr. Chen's face, searching for any hint of doubt. He saw none. "Are you absolutely sure it's just a bug?" Liang Chen asked, his voice even, not showing any of the worry he felt inside. "The address looked unusually hidden for a simple leak."
Mr. Chen nodded firmly. "Completely normal for that kind of update's temporary data echo. Our systems caught it and fixed it right away. It's truly nothing to worry about, sir. Our networks are safe."
Liang Chen simply nodded, dismissing him with a short wave of his hand. "Very well." But the uneasy feeling didn't go away. The explanation felt too simple, too quick, too neat. A "non-issue." Yet, his instincts screamed that something was wrong. He trusted his team, mostly. But he trusted his own gut more than anyone else's. This feeling, this quiet warning, was a whisper of something darker, something more planned than just a simple computer bug.
The pressure he was already living under was huge. His grandfather's constant push for him to become president, the endless corporate spying from rivals, the suffocating atmosphere of ambition and suspicion within Dragon Crest Manor – it was a never-ending battle that drained him every day. Now, this. This tiny, almost invisible glitch added a new layer of stress, a quiet hum of worry that vibrated just under the surface of his already jam-packed schedule. It was like a new string had been added to a musical instrument, pulled tight and ready to snap at any moment.
He knew his cousins, Liang Zhe (who was abroad but still a dangerous threat) and Liang Zixin (who worked as a director of a subsidiary company and was always looking for ways to hurt him), would jump on any sign of weakness. They were always watching, always ready to use any small problem against him. Yang Dailu, Liang Zixin's mother, was a master at pulling strings from the shadows of the manor. He couldn't afford a single mistake, especially with the 20% company share riding on his marriage by 25. This seemingly small anomaly could be a test, a probe, a first step in a bigger attack. He felt a chill, a deep sense of vulnerability that he rarely let himself feel.
That evening, during dinner at Dragon Crest Manor, the conversation mostly revolved around the latest business news, Liang Zhe's recent success abroad, and Wang Xiu's usual attempts to subtly push Liang Chen towards a politically good marriage. Liang Chen played his part, offering smart ideas, smiling when he needed to. But inside, his mind was still stuck on the anomaly. He was surrounded by his family, by wealth, by power, yet he felt completely alone in this quiet, growing battle. Who could he truly trust? Who could he even talk to about this nagging fear?
He thought about his trusted secretary, Wu Tianyu, who was brilliant at handling any task, and his loyal bodyguard cum driver, Xu Zemin, who protected him at all times. They were reliable, but this was a different kind of threat, a digital one that might require a different kind of mind.
He found himself thinking about CipherTruth again. Her fierce intelligence, her strong belief in ethics. She was an outsider, an online opponent, but her mind was pure, not tainted by money or power games. He wondered, just for a moment, if she would have seen it. If she would have dismissed it as just a "routine bug." The thought was quickly pushed away. She was an idealist, probably too busy with her academic work at Shanghai University to understand the messy world of corporate security. But the thought, however brief, showed a growing, hidden trust in her sharp mind.
Later, needing to clear his head from the day's stress and the lingering unease, Liang Chen decided to meet his friends, Zhang Ming and Kang Hao, at Moonlit Gardens, his usual spot. It was a bar and restaurant with a calm atmosphere, a rare place where he could unwind. As Xu Zemin drove him there, Liang Chen stared out the window, his mind still working. He didn't know what the glitch was. He didn't know where it came from. But he knew, with a deep certainty that settled heavy in his bones, that it was not a "non-issue." It was the first whisper of a storm, a tiny crack in the strong walls of Horizon Tech. And he, Liang Chen, was the only one who had truly heard it. The fight for his company, and perhaps for his family's legacy, was just beginning, and he felt a chilling feeling that it would be a very lonely one.