The first person to break the silence did it by accident.
A junior analyst.
A private forum.
A single line typed too confidently.
Our recent stabilization model mirrors Lu Yanxi's advisory framework.
The post stayed up for six minutes.
That was enough.
Screenshots traveled faster than apologies ever could.
By morning, three institutions issued identical clarifications.
"No direct attribution."
"No formal confirmation."
"No comment."
It only made the question louder.
Why was her name dangerous now?
I found out while waiting for coffee.
Two people behind me were whispering—not conspiratorially, just thoughtfully.
"She doesn't attach herself to anything," one said.
"That's why it works," the other replied. "There's no ego to negotiate with."
I paid, thanked the barista, and stepped back into the street.
Being discussed like weather was… acceptable.
Gu Chengyi was summoned to a board he had once chaired.
Not to lead.
To explain.
"Is she involved?" someone asked carefully.
"No," he answered truthfully.
"Can she be?"
The pause was not long.
But it was fatal.
"No," he said again.
They nodded.
Decision made.
Gu Chengyi understood then that proximity without access was indistinguishable from absence.
Han Zhe's name appeared in a different context.
An article dissecting declining influence among legacy heirs used him as an example.
Not as a failure.
As a transition.
He closed the page without finishing it.
Some losses did not require analysis.
Shen Yu, for the first time, chose to speak.
Not publicly.
Not strategically.
He sent a message through a channel only I could recognize.
They're starting to ask the wrong questions.
I read it.
Didn't reply.
He understood.
Because the wrong questions were not my problem.
That evening, an invitation arrived marked confidential.
A closed summit.
No media.
No statements.
Just one line stood out.
Your silence has recalibrated us.
I considered it longer than the others.
Then declined.
Silence does not negotiate.
Later, alone, I opened the notebook again.
Not to write plans.
But to record a cost.
Power, once spoken aloud, becomes negotiable.
Freedom, once named, invites challenge.
I had paid enough.
Chapter One Hundred and Four closed with a quiet reckoning.
They had spoken my name.
And learned—
Some names are not meant to be used.
Only respected.