The air in the temporary command center three floors beneath the Li Corporation tower was as taut as the pressure hull of a deep-sea submersible. The cold light from three massive screens cast an eerie pall. The numbers on the countdown timer ticked remorselessly – most of the 48 hours Li Chenyuan had publicly promised for the first phase of the "Firefly Flicker" fix had bled away. On the left screen, the data flow through the temporary "Firefly Flicker" conduit flickered like dying fireflies, a dense weave of yellow delay warnings and red disconnection points. The arguments from the tech team were muffled but fierce.
"This frayed rope won't hold under real fire!" an engineer yelled, jabbing a finger at the screen.
"But it's the only path we've got!" Chen Yan retorted, dark circles under his eyes, slamming his hand on the table in a burst of adrenaline. "The problem is the underlying verification mechanism! That archaic 'loop re-check' is suicide code under high concurrency! It's flogging the same data packet to death!"
Amidst the vortex of argument, Su Xiaolan sat curled on her little yellow duck cushion, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the worn edge of the washed, flattened chip bag. Her gaze pierced the clamor, locking onto a greyed-out label deep within the architecture diagram: "Cold Backup Repository." This slumbering temple lost in the abyss housed Hoffmann's most pristine core data and algorithm logs. Physically isolated. Access locked down. Access logs went straight to Li Chenyuan himself.
An idea struck like lightning.
She stood. The movement was small, yet the cacophony plummeted. All eyes snapped to her.
"The root is the 'historical baggage' of the verification mechanism. It can't adapt to Flicker's 'asynchronous pulse'." Su Xiaolan's voice was clear as a sonar ping. "To fix it, I need the 'original verification algorithm logs' from the 'Cold Backup'." Her gaze swept past the others, fixing directly on the silent, abyssal-steel silhouette of Li Chenyuan at the main console. "Only there is the original 'workaround' for this core defect documented."
The words "Cold Backup" dropped like a stone. Absolute silence fell. The air congealed, thick enough to wring water from. That was Li Chenyuan's final line of defense, a nuclear-level risk. Panic rippled silently as gazes darted between Su Xiaolan and the statue-like figure.
Li Chenyuan turned slowly.
His face was expressionless. Eyes like the abyss swept the room before settling, unwavering, on Su Xiaolan. No questions. No reports. His gaze penetrated the professional certainty and desperate resolve beneath her calm.
In the next heartbeat, he drew a thumbnail-sized encryption key chip from his inner pocket, its surface shimmering with an abyssal blue light. With precision, he tossed it towards Wang Jing behind Su Xiaolan.
"Access granted." Li Chenyuan's voice was low, cutting through all barriers. "Wang Jing, full assistance to Assistant Su. Highest priority. Bypass all protocols. Full authority."
"Full authority." The words detonated like thunder. Chen Yan sucked in a breath. Engineers gaped. Wang Jing caught the weighty blue chip, fingers trembling faintly, a flash of fervent awe in his eyes replaced instantly by steely resolve. "Understood, Mr. Li!" Li Chenyuan's gaze locked with Su Xiaolan's, transmitting the unspoken message: The key to the deep-sea fortress is yours.
Meanwhile, City Outskirts - Shared Office Building, 3rd Floor...
Wang Jing, leading a crack team, ghosted into a room labeled "Stardust Tech Consulting." It was unnervingly empty, save for a few black servers humming softly in the corner.
"Search!" Wang Jing commanded in a low voice.
Clues surfaced quickly: Unique stellar trajectory markers hidden in the server firmware; shredded express delivery fragments in the trash bin, traceable to an overseas shell company linked to Gu Yu; the meeting room identified as the source of the 29th-floor surveillance was deserted, equipment remotely wiped clean. But inside a network port socket, a line of nearly transparent fluorescent writing was discovered:
"WhaleSong-7"
A high-definition close-up shot back to the command center instantly.
Su Xiaolan, immersed in the virtual environment accessing the sealed logs via the chip key, froze.
Time stopped.
Color drained from her face, leaving it paper-white. Her pupils contracted to pinpricks. An icy dread shot up her spine, freezing her scalp. Breath hitched. Her heart felt seized by a cold fist, then slammed violently against her ribs. A roar filled her ears.
"Impossible..." she whispered, the sound dry as sandpaper. "That codename... it should have been buried with... that..." A depth charge of terror and sealed pain exploded in her mind, shards tearing at her soul. Had F.LK's past finally caught up?
Li Chenyuan instantly sensed her violent shift. He strode forward, his strong arm steadying her as she swayed, his palm warm and anchoring like a ship's anchor. "Xiaolan?" His voice was deep, steady, eyes locked on her panicked ones. "What is this?"
Su Xiaolan squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the storm, her voice trembling: "A... ghost that should be gone... It represents..." Her throat tightened, the words choked by fear and profound guilt.
Wang Jing's encrypted comms crackled in, his tone grave: "Mr. Li, the source of the media pressure points to media outlets controlled by the Chairman. The Chairman... has just made a statement to key financial media."
The right giant screen instantly flashed with bold headlines:
[BREAKING! Li Patriarch Questions Project Management, Cites Assistant Su Xiaolan's Lack of Experience as Risk!]
[INSIDER: Li Senior Dissatisfied, May Intervene!]
The abyssal pressure intensified tenfold!
Li Chenyuan's face turned to glacial ice, jaw clenched. He released Su Xiaolan, turning to face the screens. Picking up the comms unit, his voice was calm as reading maritime law, yet laced with desperate resolve:
"Notify all departments and media: Phase One results of Firefly Flicker will be publicly demonstrated in 36 hours. The results will speak."
The command was iron. The command center atmosphere turned lethally tense. It was an all-in gamble.
The War Room Shifts - Li Corp Tower Top R&D Lab
After twelve sleepless hours of extreme stress testing, Firefly Flicker had barely survived its first demonstration. The data curve was imperfect, but enough to temporarily silence external doubts. The moment the final test data was confirmed uploaded, Li Chenyuan decisively moved the core battlefield here – more private, more secure, better for thorough validation and optimization.
The lab's chill lingered, the air still tinged with the ozone smell of data overload. On the screens, the green Firefly Flicker data stream had stabilized, but the fleeting crimson flashes and the ghost signals lurking beneath "system maintenance processes" were like poisoned barbs, deeply embedded in Su Xiaolan and Li Chenyuan's nerves.
"'DeepSea Echo'... variant..." Su Xiaolan stared at the red-highlighted log, fingertips icy, voice trembling slightly from the ordeal. "Gu Yu... he is connected to 'WhaleSong'! He got traces of the Cold Backup access!" The dark memories associated with that codename coiled around her thoughts like abyssal tentacles.
Li Chenyuan's gaze was glacial. He didn't press Su Xiaolan about "WhaleSong" – now wasn't the time. He snatched up the internal comms, his voice like ice-tempered steel:
"Wang Jing! Mobilize the tech team immediately! Full scan of all Cold Backup access logs! Focus on the trigger point and permission source of that anomalous process! Isolate all related servers for deep security audit. And," he paused, his tone laced with lethal intent, "find out who planted a backdoor this deep in the system core! I want names, access records, everything!"
The commands were concise, precise, carrying the fury of a leviathan whose domain had been violated. He turned to Su Xiaolan, his gaze holding no blame, only absolute protection and resolve: "Cold Backup access suspended. The Firefly Flicker demonstration proceeds as scheduled." He had to use results to silence the external noise and his father's pressure first.
"But..." Su Xiaolan looked anxiously at the screen, "this backdoor..."
"It's our bait now," Li Chenyuan cut her off, a flash of icy calculation in his eyes. "Since they couldn't resist sticking a claw out, let's see if they dare do it again." He leaned down, hands braced on the console on either side of her, enveloping her in his presence. His voice lowered, imbued with absolute command: "You focus on the repair and optimization. Ensure the demo succeeds. Tracking and countermeasures are mine."
He was too close. His warm breath brushed her ear, both calming and undeniably commanding. Su Xiaolan looked at his near profile, the lines hard yet utterly focused. The churning fear subsided strangely. She took a deep breath, nodded firmly: "Okay." They were warships lashed together now. They had to fight side-by-side.
Just then, Li Chenyuan's encrypted comms emitted a low hum. Wang Jing's voice came through, carrying a barely perceptible strain:
"Mr. Li, an external consultant has requested an urgent meeting. Insists on seeing you and Assistant Su. Identifies as from 'StarShield International Security Consultants'. Emphasizes – 'it concerns deep water'." Wang Jing paused, then clearly articulated the name: "The visitor is Lu Xingze."
"Lu Xingze?"
The name was like a rusted old key, jamming abruptly into the deepest lock of Su Xiaolan's memory. Her fingers tightened unconsciously on the chip bag's edge, the aluminum foil emitting a faint crinkle.
Time seemed to rewind seven years. Backstage at the dimly lit Global Security Geek Challenge. She'd just used the "F.LK" account to hack into the finals system to debug a critical vulnerability when an unexpected, shrieking alarm triggered. The organizers' searchlights swept the narrow corridor like probes. At the last possible second, it was Lu Xingze – her gentle, reliable senior back then – who shoved her into a cluttered utility closet, standing casually in the doorway. When security questioned him, he smiled warmly, pointing to dust on his white shirt cuff: "Apologies, just helping my junior find an earring she dropped in the corner. Got a bit messy." He handed her a water bottle to calm her nerves. On its cap, a tiny whale he'd casually etched was clearly visible in the low light.
That dust-streaked, gentle smile. That little whale on the bottle cap... They had been rare, warm anchors in her turbulent youth. He knew her "F.LK" identity. He'd shielded her in that dangerous moment. But later, she chose to sink fully into the "Su Xiaolan" salted fish life, deliberately severing ties with that world – and with him.
How was he here? At the eye of this storm? Under the banner of "StarShield International"? "Concerning deep water"... How much did he know? About WhaleSong? About Gu Yu? Or... about everything she was doing now?
A wave of indescribable complexity – a mix of old acquaintance's flutter, fear of the past being dredged up, and deep suspicion of the timing – instantly seized her.
Li Chenyuan's brow furrowed like frozen rock. He keenly sensed Su Xiaolan's sudden rigidity beside him, the turmoil in her eyes. This name clearly held profound, non-casual significance for her.
"Delay it." Li Chenyuan spoke into the comms, his voice a cold blade, brooking no argument. He had immediate fires to fight – the technical crisis, his father's gambit.
But he knew. This "Lu Xingze," bearing the "deep water" tag and clearly sharing a significant past with Su Xiaolan, was like a stone cast into the deep. The ripples would inevitably stir these already treacherous undercurrents. The storm had just gained another unpredictable variable.