The fallout from the attempted theft still lingered like smoke over the city.
It had been three days since the failed heist on Eversage's research facility — three days since Malcolm Veyra's hired specialists had vanished into police custody or gone underground, and three days since Titan Skincare's boardrooms had descended into chaos.
The news cycle wouldn't stop talking. Security leaks, corporate espionage, whispers of lawsuits — Eversage's name was everywhere, and with it came a storm of attention. Most of it was positive. The company had come out of the attack not just intact but stronger, their reputation burnished by the fact that someone had thought their formula worth stealing.
Jason stood before the tall windows of his office that morning, watching the city stretch and breathe below. His phone buzzed with messages, and Natalie's voice echoed somewhere down the hall as she dealt with reporters. But his mind was already moving beyond this battle. The war wasn't over. It had barely begun.
And far from his tower of glass and steel, another war council was being held.
The Son family's ancestral compound lay on the city's eastern edge, where modern skylines bled into ancient courtyards. The great hall was older than most of the skyscrapers in Yun territory — a sprawling chamber of carved wood and painted screens, where generations of decisions had shaped the family's destiny.
Now, the air in that hall hummed with tension.
"Unacceptable," barked an elder with snow-white hair, his cane striking the polished floor. "Absolutely unacceptable! To tie the blood of the Son family to an outsider — a common merchant boy — is an insult to everything we stand for!"
Another voice joined in, sharper, colder. "It is madness. He is not of the old blood. He brings no alliances, no prestige. What does he offer us?"
Murmurs rippled through the semicircle of seated elders. Dozens had gathered — some in person, others through live holo-projection — all summoned by Patriarch Son Xianzu himself. Seated on the raised dais at the head of the chamber, Xianzu listened with eyes closed, hands folded over the head of his cane.
He had expected this storm. He had invited it.
"Enough," he said finally, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. The hall fell into silence. "You've all spoken your piece. Now hear mine: the engagement between my granddaughter, Son Liying, and Jason Yun will not be dissolved."
The words struck like thunder.
"You would defy the council's will?" one elder demanded.
"I would uphold my own," Xianzu said calmly, opening his eyes. They were pale and ancient and tired, but they still burned with authority. "The engagement was not arranged in haste. It is strategic, deliberate, and binding. The Yun family's blood runs deep in this city's veins, and Jason Yun is more than the name you dismiss. He is building something — something powerful. I intend for that power to be tied to ours."
A few elders fell silent, unwilling to challenge the patriarch outright. Others exchanged dark glances.
And then a voice spoke — smooth, measured, and cold.
"Then, Patriarch, surely you would agree that power must be proven."
All eyes turned to the speaker. A tall man in dark robes rose from his seat near the center of the hall. His presence seemed to still the air around him — sharp-featured, silver-haired, with a foxlike cunning in his eyes.
"Elder Son Haoren," murmured someone.
Xianzu regarded him quietly. "Speak your mind."
Haoren clasped his hands behind his back. "I will not question your decision, Patriarch. If you believe the boy is worthy of the Son name, so be it. But surely you understand our concern. Jason Yun has yet to prove that worth — not in our world. He may have built his little enterprises, but those are pebbles compared to the mountains our family moves."
Murmurs of agreement stirred again.
Haoren continued, his tone respectful but his words laced with challenge. "So I propose this: if Jason Yun is to stand beside Son Liying, let him prove that he deserves to stand at all. Give him a project. A true test of ability. Something that will show this council whether he is the kind of man who builds legacies… or one who hides behind borrowed names."
Xianzu's fingers tightened slightly on his cane. He understood the ploy. Haoren wasn't just testing Jason — he was trying to humiliate him, to push him into failure before the wedding could ever happen. Yet the elder's logic was sound, and the murmured agreement growing around the room told him resistance might fracture the council further.
"And what," Xianzu asked quietly, "would this test entail?"
Haoren's lips curved into the faintest smile. "We can discuss specifics later. For now, I propose only the principle — that Jason Yun will receive no direct help from Liying or the main family. If he is truly worthy, he should succeed by his own strength."
The room buzzed with approval. Even those who supported the engagement nodded along. It was, after all, a fair demand.
Xianzu sighed softly. He had fought many battles to hold this family together. Sometimes, even a patriarch had to yield ground to win the war.
"Very well," he said at last. "Your proposal is accepted."
The sound of the patriarch's agreement rippled through the room like a signal. Some elders exhaled in relief. Others exchanged knowing glances, pleased that their skepticism had been validated.
Only Haoren's expression remained unchanged — the faint smile still playing at the edges of his lips. He bowed with exaggerated respect. "Then it's settled. I shall have my aides draft the preliminary outlines for the project. We will ensure the terms are… worthy of the Son family's reputation."
Xianzu studied him for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. "Do so. But remember, Haoren — this is not a game. If Jason Yun succeeds, he is to be treated as one of our own."
Haoren's eyes gleamed. "Of course, Patriarch. If he succeeds."
The meeting adjourned shortly after, elders rising one by one and filing out into the courtyard beyond the great hall. Servants scurried to open doors and guide them to their waiting transports. Conversations flared and faded in the crisp evening air — whispers of doubt, of curiosity, of simmering resentment.
But Haoren did not join them immediately.
He lingered by the carved pillars of the hall, his hands folded behind his back, watching as the others departed. A shadow moved beside him — a younger man in a fitted suit, carrying a small data slate.
"Elder," the man said quietly, "shall I prepare the initial terms of the project?"
"Yes," Haoren murmured. "But not too easy. The boy needs to fail — and fail publicly. A setback behind closed doors means nothing. But humiliation before the eyes of the council? That leaves a stain that never washes away."
The man hesitated. "And if he succeeds?"
Haoren's gaze shifted toward the distant skyline beyond the estate walls. "Then perhaps he is worth our attention after all. But I doubt it. This Jason Yun has been shielded by luck and money. Strip those away, and you'll see what he truly is."
The aide nodded and turned to leave, but Haoren spoke again, softer this time, almost to himself.
"There is more at stake here than a marriage," he murmured. "Foreign interests are watching this family. If this engagement weakens us, I will not let the Son name be dragged into ruin. Not by some upstart merchant boy."
Later that evening, the great hall was quiet again — save for the soft rustle of silk as a servant knelt before the patriarch's dais.
"She has arrived, Patriarch."
"Send her in."
The doors opened, and Son Liying stepped into the chamber. Her presence was the kind that bent rooms around her — poised, composed, eyes sharp beneath the fall of her dark hair. Yet tonight, there was a flicker of tension in her movements. She had been summoned without warning, and that alone told her this was no ordinary conversation.
"Grandfather," she said, bowing respectfully.
"Liying." Son Xianzu gestured for her to rise. "You've heard about the council meeting?"
"I have," she replied carefully. "They want to test him."
"They do," Xianzu confirmed. "And I have agreed."
She looked up sharply. "Grandfather—"
"It was not a decision I made lightly," he said, holding up a hand. "But refusing would have fractured the council. And that would have hurt us far more than a test will hurt Jason."
Liying's lips pressed into a thin line. "They want him to fail."
"Some of them do," Xianzu admitted. "Haoren most of all. But others are simply… cautious. They see the boy as unproven. And in truth, they are not wrong."
Silence stretched between them. Finally, Liying exhaled slowly. "What will this test be?"
"They have not finalized the details," he said. "But I suspect it will be difficult. Likely something tied to business — a venture that will force him to navigate politics, finance, and competition. Perhaps even something meant to pit him against his rivals."
Liying's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then they underestimate him."
A faint smile touched the patriarch's lips. "Do they?"
She met his gaze without flinching. "Jason Yun is many things, Grandfather. Reckless. Stubborn. Arrogant at times. But he is not weak. And he does not bend easily."
Xianzu studied her for a long moment. "You speak of him with conviction."
"Because I know him," she said simply. "And I believe in him."
The old man chuckled softly. "Then perhaps this test will serve a purpose after all. It will silence his critics… or expose his flaws."
He rose slowly from his seat, leaning heavily on his cane. "Prepare yourself, Liying. In the coming weeks, there will be noise — from the council, from outsiders, perhaps even from within your own branch of the family. But through it all, you must remain steady."
"I understand."
"And one more thing," he said, his voice gentler now. "Do not help him."
Liying blinked. "Grandfather—"
"This is his battle," Xianzu said firmly. "If he wins with your hand guiding his every step, the victory will mean nothing. Let him fight it. Let him rise — or fall — by his own strength."
After a moment, she nodded. "Very well."
The patriarch turned away, gazing out the open balcony toward the city beyond. "The Son family has weathered many storms, Liying. This may yet be another. But something tells me… this storm will decide far more than a marriage."
That night, as the estate's lanterns flickered to life and the elders dispersed into the shadows of their waiting cars, two futures were being written in silence.
One, in the calculating mind of Son Haoren, who was already drafting the first threads of Jason Yun's "test."
And the other, in the unwavering heart of Son Liying, who believed — more than ever — that Jason would not just pass that test, but redefine what the Son family thought possible.
The winds were shifting again. And somewhere in the city below, Jason Yun had no idea that his next trial had already begun.