The top floor of the Junyue Hotel, the presidential suite's study, was shrouded in an almost suffocating darkness. Below, the banquet hall was alive with clinking glasses, laughter, and chatter, but up here, there was only the subtle hum of the air conditioner—a sharp contrast to the clamor downstairs. The city of Yun's skyline gleamed like a river of stars beneath the night sky, but the cold light of the city could not reach this room, leaving it untouched by warmth.
Lu Chengxiao sat behind the black ebony desk, his face concealed in shadow, his expression as cold as ice. He had just returned from the banquet. His sharp, tailored black suit remained unchanged, his shoulders squared, merging seamlessly into the surrounding dimness—he belonged to this quiet, brooding space.
The room was unlit, save for the cool glow of a curved screen before him, outlining the sharp lines of his profile.
Knock, knock.
Two soft raps shattered the stillness in the air.
"Enter."
His voice was deep and steady, betraying no emotion.
The door creaked open quietly, and his assistant, Qin Feng, slipped in, placing a tablet on the desk with a respectful motion before stepping aside to stand in silence. He knew better than to speak unnecessarily. To his boss, superfluous words were just another mistake waiting to happen.
Lu Chengxiao's gaze slowly shifted from the window, landing on the tablet. He didn't reach for it immediately but raised his left hand, his wrist adorned with a string of sandalwood beads. He absentmindedly slid his thumb across them, the faint scent of incense filling the air.
Once, twice.
It was a habit of his, a prelude to a storm. The silence before the chaos.
Qin Feng watched, understanding exactly what this meant—his boss was preparing for something, laying the groundwork for another calculated move.
After a moment, Lu Chengxiao finally reached out and took the tablet. On the screen, a surveillance video played in a loop, showing the center of the banquet hall. There, the woman named Shen Qingqian could be seen. The video was slowed ten times its normal speed.
The footage showed her "accidentally" colliding with a guest, then spilling an entire glass of red wine, expertly soaking the expensive Versace suit of Gu Jingming.
Every detail—the wobble in her steps, the angle of her body, the timing of her wrist movement—was calculated, almost too precise for a mere accident.
To anyone else, this might seem like a clumsy mishap. But to Lu Chengxiao, a man whose very instinct was to read between the lines, every chaotic moment on the screen was perfectly orchestrated.
Only fools would believe in coincidence.
His fingertip tapped lightly on the screen, freezing the image at the moment when Shen Qingqian collapsed to the floor, her eyes looking up at Gu Jingming.
Her face was pale, tear tracks still visible, looking fragile. But her eyes—those eyes weren't just full of fear. There was hatred in them, cold and sharp, hidden beneath the mask of meekness.
A small, barely audible chuckle escaped his lips.
"Interesting."
He swiped to the next screen, which displayed the background information that Qin Feng had hastily gathered.
Name: Shen Qingqian
Age: 23
Hometown: Yun City
Last five years' record: Waitress, Barista, Convenience store cashier… scattered, low-tier, and entirely unremarkable.
Her resume was as clean as it was bland.
But Lu Chengxiao's eyes ignored the fluff. He focused on the bottom of the page—there, bolded and highlighted in red:
—Daughter of Shen Mingshan, the former Chairman of Shen Jewelry, the sole survivor of the Shen family's bankruptcy five years ago.
So that's who she was.
The little princess of the Shen family, once held in the palm of their hands.
The business war five years ago had been ruthless, and the Gu family had played a dirty game—there were likely secrets buried beneath it all. But now, Shen Qingqian, the last bloodline of the Shen family, had returned to the heart of power in such a manner. Not by crying for help, not by accusing, but by setting a trap with her own hands. At the very banquet celebrating her enemy's victory, she'd used a glass of red wine to rip open old wounds.
And that arrogant fool, Gu Jingming, had fallen for it.
Lu Chengxiao's gaze darkened.
He had assumed it would take some maneuvering to stir this stagnant game.
But she had walked straight into the trap. She hadn't just stood before the enemy; she'd cleverly concealed her sharp edge beneath an innocent façade, waiting for the right moment to strike.
Perfect.
There was no better pawn.
She had the motive, the courage, and the looks to disarm any man's guard. She was the sharpest, most invisible blade aimed at Gu Jingming's heart.
And all Lu Chengxiao had to do was give her a nudge. Just enough to guide the blade to the heart.
He put down the tablet, standing up and walking to the other side of the study. There, on a wooden chessboard, the black and white pieces were locked in a tense standoff.
He picked up a black piece, running his thumb across it for a moment. Then his eyes drifted back to the window, as if looking through the neon-lit haze, seeing the girl somewhere in the city, fighting alone.
Shen Qingqian…
You think you're the hunter, but you have no idea—you've already walked into someone else's game.
No matter.
Your enemy is the same as mine.
Clack.
The black piece landed with a crisp sound, echoing in the quiet room like a clock tolling.
The piece settled firmly in the center of the board.
"An interesting pawn," he murmured, his voice calm, but carrying an undercurrent of immense power.
"You've walked into the game all on your own."