The city never slept, but that night, it seemed to tremble with anticipation. The press conference had made headlines everywhere. Screens in cafes, newsstands at every corner, and the feeds of thousands of social media users blazed with images of Qin Yue standing beside Han Jin, her words echoing like fire through the digital veins of the metropolis.
Some admired her courage. Some doubted her sincerity. Others ridiculed her for daring to stand so boldly when, in their eyes, she was still nothing but a poor girl chasing a rich man's power.
But one thing was clear: no one was ignoring her anymore.
And that was something Lin Jia could not forgive.
---
Lin Jia's Calculations
In her luxurious penthouse, Lin Jia stood before the massive glass windows, staring down at the glittering lights below. A half-empty glass of wine dangled between her fingers, the deep red liquid catching the reflection of her manicured nails.
On the table behind her lay a pile of shredded documents — the remains of her frustration after watching Qin Yue steal the spotlight at the press conference.
"She was supposed to break," Lin Jia hissed under her breath, her voice trembling with rage. "She was supposed to crumble under the pressure. Not rise."
Her phone buzzed, and she turned sharply, picking it up.
"It's done," came a male voice on the other side. "The financial documents were leaked as you requested. By tomorrow morning, every outlet in the city will question the legitimacy of her position — and yours as well, President Han."
Lin Jia's lips curved into a cold smile. "Good. Make sure the rumors spread beyond the office. I want the shareholders panicking. I want them questioning him. If Qin Yue becomes the reason Han Jin's empire falters, even he won't be able to protect her."
She ended the call, her heart beating faster with exhilaration. This was her last card, the one she had been holding back until the perfect moment.
Let's see how much fire that little girl can handle when the entire empire burns around her.
---
Qin Yue's Uneasy Morning
The next morning, Qin Yue sat at her desk in Han Jin's office, trying to drown herself in work. She had thought that after her speech at the press conference, things would feel lighter, easier.
But they didn't.
The whispers outside the office walls were quieter now, yes, but they hadn't stopped. And the stares still pierced her when she passed through the lobby, reminding her with every step that people didn't forgive so easily.
Her phone buzzed with a new message. It was Qing Feng.
Qing Feng: Yue, are you okay? I saw the news. Everyone at my office is talking about you.
Qin Yue's heart twisted. Her best friend's worry was genuine, but it reminded her just how public her life had become.
She typed quickly: I'm fine. Really. Don't worry about me.
But even as she sent it, she knew it wasn't true.
---
The Media Attack
By noon, the storm arrived.
The first email came from a business magazine. Then another from a financial news site. And then another, and another — all filled with the same questions.
"President Han, are you aware of the irregularities in your company's budget reports?"
"Is it true that a large sum of company funds has been redirected to cover expenses for your assistant, Qin Yue?"
"Do you deny that favoritism and mismanagement are taking place under your leadership?"
Han Jin's assistant burst into the office, his face pale. "President Han, it's everywhere. The media is accusing us of misusing funds. They're saying Qin Yue's employment is costing the company millions. Shareholders are already demanding explanations."
Qin Yue's blood ran cold.
She looked at Han Jin, her lips parting in shock. "Han Jin, I swear, I—"
But he silenced her with a sharp glance, his eyes hard. "I know. This isn't you. This is someone else's game."
---
Han Jin's Wrath
He stood, his presence radiating power and fury. "Lin Jia."
Her name fell from his lips like poison, and Qin Yue flinched at the venom in his tone.
Han Jin slammed a file onto the desk, his voice low and dangerous. "She thinks she can strike me by striking you. But she's forgotten who I am."
Qin Yue's throat tightened. "What if the shareholders believe it? What if they think I'm—"
He turned to her suddenly, closing the space between them. His eyes burned into hers, fierce and unwavering.
"Look at me, Qin Yue."
She hesitated, but obeyed.
His voice softened, but it carried the weight of steel. "You are not weak. You are not their scapegoat. And I will not allow anyone — not Lin Jia, not the media, not the world — to paint you as one. Do you understand?"
Her lips trembled, but she nodded. "I… I understand."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken promises. Then Han Jin turned sharply to his assistant.
"Prepare the legal team. I want every false claim torn apart before sundown. And call a board meeting. If the shareholders want answers, they'll get them — from me."
---
The Boardroom
By afternoon, the company's boardroom was filled with tension. Shareholders sat stiffly in their seats, their faces grim as the accusations continued to spread online.
Lin Jia was there, of course, dressed elegantly, her expression carefully schooled into one of concern.
"President Han," one of the senior shareholders began, "we need to address these rumors. If it's true that funds have been misallocated—"
"It's not true," Han Jin cut him off coldly. "Every cent in this company is accounted for. The accusations are fabricated."
Another shareholder frowned. "And yet, the evidence seems convincing. Perhaps it would be best to distance yourself from the source of the rumors — your assistant."
All eyes turned to Qin Yue.
Her breath caught, her hands clenching in her lap. The weight of their judgment pressed down on her, threatening to crush her newfound resolve.
Lin Jia's lips curved in the faintest smile.
This was her moment.
---
Qin Yue's Trial
"Perhaps," Lin Jia's voice rang sweetly across the room, "the issue isn't the company itself, but the… influence surrounding it. Sometimes, emotions cloud judgment, don't they, President Han?"
The subtle barb pierced like a dagger.
Qin Yue's cheeks flushed with shame and anger, but she forced herself to sit taller. She couldn't crumble now — not when every eye in the room was waiting for her to break.
Han Jin's glare could have burned through steel. "Careful, Lin Jia."
She tilted her head innocently. "I only mean that perhaps Miss Qin is… unsuited for such a position. For her sake, and for the company's, maybe it would be best if she stepped down quietly."
The board murmured in agreement. The pressure around Qin Yue thickened until her lungs ached.
Her mind screamed at her to give in, to run, to escape the crushing humiliation.
But then she remembered the whispers in the office. The cruel notes. The way Lin Jia had smiled when she thought Qin Yue was breaking.
She remembered the fire she had found at the press conference.
And she realized she couldn't let that fire die now.
Not here. Not in front of Lin Jia.