Wenhao found Ruifen in her painting room.
The space was filled with soft light and the scent of oil paints and turpentine. Canvases lined the walls, some finished, some abandoned. Ruifen stood in front of an easel, a brush in her hand, her back to the door. She was wearing a loose white shirt splattered with paint, and her hair was pulled back in a messy bun.
When she heard the door open, she turned and smiled. "Oh, you're back. Perfect timing. Let's have dinner together. I had the kitchen prepare your favorite."
Wenhao didn't move from the doorway. His face was hard. His voice was flat. "Where is the money, Ruifen?"
Ruifen's smile faltered. Her hand froze mid-stroke. "What are you talking about? What money?"
Wenhao walked closer, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. "The money from the investors. The dealers. The money that was supposed to go to the east side project. Where did it go?"
Ruifen set down her brush slowly. Her face was a mask of confusion. "You think I stole the money?"
"I don't know what to think. But the trail leads to you. Every single transaction points to your desk."
Ruifen let out a long, slow sigh. She walked to a small stool and sat down, her shoulders sagging. "You really think I stole the money? When I have everything? When I'm living peacefully, comfortably, with no wants or needs? Why would I risk everything for money I don't need?"
Wenhao's jaw tightened. "People do crazy things for money they don't need."
Ruifen looked up at him, her eyes tired and sad. "Wenhao, I've been handling the company for three years. Three years. I've done everything Father asked. I've attended every meeting. I've dealt with every dealer. But I don't have access to everything. I can only sign what Mr. Liang's assistant puts in front of me. I can only approve what he says is approved. For signatures and official documents, the assistant handles everything. I have no control over that. Do you understand?"
Wenhao's heart stopped beating for a moment. "Mr. William? Father's assistant?"
Ruifen nodded. "He's the one who brings me the documents. He's the one who tells me what needs to be signed. I never see the full picture. I just... trust him. Because Father trusted him."
Wenhao's hands curled into fists. "So Mr. William could be behind everything?"
Ruifen's eyes widened. "Could it be? Wenhao, if he's been manipulating the accounts this whole time..."
Wenhao ran a hand through his hair. "I can't say anything for sure yet. I need time. I need to look deeper."
Ruifen stood up and walked toward him. She placed a gentle hand on his arm. "We'll figure it out together. Don't worry. Let's have dinner first. You need to eat. You look exhausted."
Wenhao hesitated. His body was screaming for rest, for food, for a moment of peace. He nodded slowly. "Okay. Dinner. I'll freshen up first."
Ruifen smiled. "I'll have the table set."
Wenhao turned and walked out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind him. Ruifen's smile vanished. Her face hardened. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
"He's getting suspicious," she said into the receiver. "I need to get Wenhao out of my way. He's going to ruin everything."
There was a pause on the other end.
"I don't care how you do it," Ruifen hissed. "Just make sure he's not a problem anymore."
She hung up and stood in the middle of her painting room, surrounded by art she no longer cared about.
In his room, Wenhao sat on the edge of his bed. His phone was in his hand, the screen glowing softly. He had opened the old chat with Zhenlong.
Messages from four years ago. A lifetime ago.
Zhenlong's words stared back at him, frozen in time.
Where are you? Are you okay? Please call me. I'm worried.
Wenhao's eyes burned. He scrolled further.
I miss you. Please. Just let me know you're safe.
His thumb hovered over the screen. He wanted to type something. Anything. But his fingers wouldn't move.
What if Zhenlong had forgotten about him? What if he had moved on? What if he had found someone else, someone who hadn't disappeared without a word?
Wenhao's chest ached with a pain that four years had not dulled. He missed Zhenlong so much it felt like drowning. He missed his voice. His laugh. The way he looked at Wenhao like he was the only person in the world.
Tears slipped down his cheeks. He didn't wipe them away.
He lay back on the bed, his phone clutched to his chest, and let himself remember. The fireworks. The kiss. The way Zhenlong had said happy birthday one more time.
He fell asleep with tears still on his face, dreaming of a love he wasn't sure he would ever find again.
Wenhao worked through the night.
The coffee sat beside him in an ever-growing collection of empty cups. He had lost count after the fifth one. Maybe the sixth. The numbers on the screen blurred together as he sifted through transaction after transaction, searching for something, anything, that would make sense of the mess he had inherited.
But something was wrong.
The more coffee he drank, the sleepier he became. His eyelids grew heavy. His head started to droop. The words on the screen swam in and out of focus.
He tried to shake it off. He stood up and paced the room. He splashed cold water on his face. He drank another cup of coffee.
Nothing worked.
Sleep wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket, pulling him down, down, down. He didn't understand. He had never felt exhaustion like this. It was as if sleep itself had become a predator, hunting him.
He didn't remember closing his eyes.
He didn't remember lying down on the desk.
He just remembered darkness.
---
Wenhao woke with a jolt.
Sunlight streamed through the window, bright and unforgiving. He blinked and looked at the clock on the wall.
His heart stopped.
Four PM.
He had slept almost the entire day. Sixteen hours. Maybe more. He couldn't remember when he had fallen asleep. He couldn't remember anything after the sixth cup of coffee.
He scrambled to his feet. His head spun and he grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself. His body felt heavy, sluggish, as if he had been drugged.
He shook off the thought.
No. That was ridiculous. He had just been tired. Overworked. Stressed.
He hurried out of his room and down the stairs.
Ruifen was sitting in the living room, a cup of tea in her hands. When she saw him, her eyebrows rose in surprise.
"You've been home all day?" she asked. "I thought you left early for work. If I had known you were staying, I would have gone to the company myself. You should have told me you weren't going."
Wenhao shook his head, still trying to clear the fog from his brain. "I just slept the whole day. I didn't realize the time. I need to hurry back."
Ruifen smiled, soft and warm. "Don't stress yourself too much. Everything will be fine. You'll figure it out."
Wenhao nodded and forced a smile. He grabbed his coat and hurried out the door.
---
The company felt wrong the moment he walked in.
Employees stopped talking when they saw him. Their eyes darted away. Whispers filled the air like buzzing flies.
Wenhao walked toward his office, his heart pounding.
Mr. William appeared in front of him, his face pale and urgent. "Sir, what are you doing here? You should not be here."
Wenhao frowned. "What's going on? Why does everyone look at me like that?"
William glanced around nervously. "Sir, there's news about it on social media. The police will be here any minute. You need to leave. Now."
Wenhao's blood went cold. "What are you talking about? Why would the police come?"
Before William could answer, the front doors swung open.
Police officers flooded into the lobby. They moved with practiced efficiency, their uniforms crisp, their faces stern. One of them walked toward Wenhao, a document in his hand.
"Mr. Liang Wenhao?" the officer asked.
Wenhao's throat went dry. "Yes."
The officer held up the warrant. "You are under arrest for fraud, embezzlement, and financial misconduct in connection with the disappearance of funds from your company. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"
Wenhao stared at him. His mind was blank. His heart was racing. "I don't understand. I didn't do anything. I just got back. I've been trying to fix this."
The officer's face didn't change. "You can explain everything in court, sir. Please come with us."
Wenhao tried to protest but the officers were already moving around him. Hands gripped his arms. Someone spoke in his ear but he couldn't hear the words.
The lobby was full of witnesses. His employees. His colleagues. People who had once looked up to him.
Now they just watched in silence.
Wenhao caught a glimpse of himself in the glass doors as he was led out. His reflection was pale and hollow-eyed. A stranger. A criminal.
He hadn't done anything.
But no one was listening.
The police car doors closed behind him and the world outside grew distant.
He sat in the back seat and stared at his hands.
And for the first time in his life, he had no idea how to fix what was broken.