Two days later, Zhao Wei had everything arranged.
Not a word had leaked. Huang Min still thought he was untouchable.
Perfect.
At breakfast, Xiao An was unusually quiet, pushing his toast around the plate.
Zhao Wei set his coffee down. "What's wrong?"
"They're holding a charity art show at school," Xiao An mumbled. "Huang Min is one of the sponsors. He's… going to be there."
Zhao Wei's mind shifted instantly. A public event. Cameras. Reporters. Min in front of an audience he wanted to impress.
That was the stage.
"You're going to participate?" Zhao Wei asked.
The boy hesitated. "I made a painting. I didn't want him to see it. But if I skip, everyone will know it's because of him."
Zhao Wei studied him for a moment. "Then we make sure you show up — and he regrets showing his face."
---
In the office later that morning, Gao Fang leaned over Zhao Wei's desk.
"Please tell me you're not dragging the kid into this."
"I'm not," Zhao Wei said evenly. "He's already in it. I'm just changing the ending."
He pulled up a document on his laptop — a customs clearance form from Chen Guo's files. The kind of paper most people ignored.
But this one had Min's signature alongside the approval of a port official… who'd been arrested for bribery the following year.
It was a quiet bomb.
"We 'donate' this to the press as part of a larger 'anonymous leak' on corruption in the shipping industry," Zhao Wei said. "Then we let them find Min's name themselves."
"And the art show?"
"It's the bait. Min will be smiling for cameras while his empire starts to burn."
---
The day of the event, the school gym was transformed into a gallery. Strings of lights hung overhead, and student paintings lined the walls. The smell of fresh paint mingled with the faint sweetness of donated pastries.
Zhao Wei arrived with Xiao An, both dressed in dark suits. They drew stares — some curious, some cautious.
Near the entrance, Huang Min was already working the crowd, shaking hands with parents, his smile thin and polished.
When he spotted them, his eyes lit with that false warmth. "Zhao Wei. And the boy. How… brave of you to come."
Xiao An's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away. "My painting is over there," he said, and walked off.
Min turned back to Zhao Wei. "I must say, I didn't expect you to keep him here after… everything."
"You underestimate my patience," Zhao Wei replied, his voice cool. "Enjoy the evening, Min. It might not last."
---
Halfway through the event, the first ripple hit.
One of the reporters — supposedly covering the charity — got a message on her phone. She froze, stared at the screen, then began whispering urgently to her photographer.
By the time Min took the stage for his sponsor's speech, three journalists had already left the room. Zhao Wei caught the flicker of confusion in Min's eyes.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Min began, "it is my great honor to support these young artists—"
The doors at the back opened. Another reporter entered, camera rolling, heading straight for Min.
---
In the corner, Xiao An's painting caught the light — a lone fishing boat in a storm, its sails torn, but still upright against the waves. The small plaque below read: "Holding On."
Parents stopped to look. Whispers started.
Someone asked the boy what it meant.
Xiao An simply said, "It's about surviving people who try to sink you."
Zhao Wei heard it and felt a quiet surge of pride. The kid didn't even realize he'd just stolen Min's audience without trying.
---
By the time the speech ended, Min's phone was buzzing nonstop. His smile was gone, his handshake quick and distracted.
Zhao Wei didn't approach him again. There was no need.
When they left the gym, Xiao An glanced up. "He looked… scared."
"He should be," Zhao Wei said, guiding him to the car. "Scared people make mistakes. And we're going to be ready when he does."