The rain tapped against the massive glass windows of Xu Corporation like restless fingers on a war drum. It was the kind of downpour that didn't wash things clean, but instead unearthed what had been hidden beneath the surface—grime, secrets, and resolve.
Han Jiayan sat quietly in the boardroom, an untouched coffee cooling beside his hand. The board meeting had ended an hour ago, but he hadn't moved. Not because he didn't want to—but because his mind was elsewhere, chewing through lines of code and contracts like a machine running five simulations at once.
He pulled out his personal tablet—completely separate from company tech—and began scanning a set of data packets he'd duplicated off the Xu Corporation internal systems. A breadcrumb trail left by that ghost subcontractor. Not just financial anomalies—encryption protocols. Sloppy ones. Amateurs had tried to cover their tracks. They didn't know someone like him would be looking.
And that was their first mistake.
His fingers flew across the screen. Algorithms danced beneath his touch. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips—the first real one in days. There was beauty in systems. In clean logic. In truth hidden behind a firewall.
Xinyue had given him a position.
Now, he was building a weapon.
---
Meanwhile, in her private lounge, Xinyue studied the new developments with a sharp frown. The burned contract Jiayan had lured out was now being linked to a branch office under the Qin family—a shell company filtered through two provinces, under three dummy CEOs.
And Qin Liang's name kept resurfacing.
She tapped her nails on the edge of the tablet. The Qin Family was starting to act like a cornered animal—rash, desperate, and dangerous.
She wasn't worried.
She was furious.
The engagement they once flaunted like a crown jewel was now a chain he tried to wrap around her future.
He wanted to show her she could never truly escape.
She would remind him that she never belonged to him in the first place.
---
8:43 PM — Jiayan's Apartment
Jiayan was working on a multi-screen rig now, cables running like vines over his desk. He barely noticed the knock.
It came again.
He opened the door to a man in a charcoal-gray coat, umbrella neatly folded by his side. His face was forgettable, but his eyes weren't. Too calm.
"I represent a private syndicate," the man said without preamble. "You've touched something you shouldn't have. We suggest you stop digging."
Jiayan didn't speak. He let the silence become a rope.
The man reached into his coat and pulled out a photo. It was Xinyue—taken today. A coffee shop. No security in sight.
Jiayan's jaw didn't tighten. He didn't flinch.
But something behind his eyes went cold.
"You're threatening me to protect her?" Jiayan asked quietly.
The man offered a professional smile. "We're giving you a choice."
Jiayan took the photo gently, stared at it for a beat, then tore it cleanly in two.
"Then here's mine," he said. "Next time you show up uninvited, I'll make sure no algorithm on Earth can unscramble your face."
He shut the door.
Locked it.
Then sat down.
And opened a folder labeled "Project Widow."
His fingers typed fast now. Not just tracking data—but countermeasures. Misdirections. Code traps.
It wasn't about obeying anymore. It was about protecting.
And if someone thought Han Jiayan was just a naïve boy in love—they were about to learn that some lambs bite.
Hard.
---
Later that night —
Atop a roof where rain fell like whispers, Zhao Yelin called Jiayan.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
"You sound like you just found out you're Batman."
"I'm more of a hybrid between Iron Man and your favorite malware."
"I don't like this, Jiayan."
"I know."
"But you're going to do it anyway."
"Yeah."
"…Don't die."
He smiled softly.
"Not planning to."
---
Back at Xu Corporation, Xinyue received an encrypted message on her private line.
A video feed.
Jiayan, sitting in his apartment, cross-referencing Qin Liang's contracts with offshore banking data.
The subject line read:
"Target: Confirmed. Decryption Underway."
She didn't know whether to be impressed… or terrified.
But one thing was certain—
Her husband was waking up.
And the world wasn't ready for it.
---