The guests—shrewd and perceptive people all—rose one after another, offering polite excuses to take their leave. In the blink of an eye, the once-bustling living room was left empty save for the Lin family and a scene of utter disarray. Zhou Yawen seemed to age ten years in an instant. She stared at Lin Yin, being led away, then turned her gaze to Lin Wan, standing calmly at the center of the room—her expression eerily serene. Her lips trembled, but no words emerged. Lin Zhenye rubbed his temples wearily, then looked at Lin Wan. His eyes held a complex tangle of emotions: lingering anger, the humiliation of having been manipulated, profound disappointment in Lin Yin—and, faintly, almost imperceptibly, astonishment and scrutiny. This daughter he had long overlooked—even dismissed—had not only demonstrated terrifying academic brilliance but also, without fanfare, orchestrated an elaborate scheme that had turned Lin Yin’s carefully laid trap back upon her with ruthless, total precision. Where had such cunning and capability come from? How had she uncovered those incriminating pieces of evidence? Lin Wan met his gaze unflinchingly. She bent down, gathered up the genuine—but utterly inconsequential—'confidential documents' scattered on the floor, neatly stacked them, and placed them on the coffee table. "Dad," she said, her voice still calm, "these are obsolete draft proposals from expired Group projects—I picked them up just to study the formatting of business plans. As for the real core files, I imagine my access level isn’t high enough to reach them." She paused, then added: "Of course, if the family needs it, I can offer some algorithm-based suggestions for strengthening information security—such as upgrading internal communication encryption or implementing anomaly-detection systems for critical data access." Lin Zhenye’s pupils contracted slightly. Lin Yin was placed under house arrest. All her bank accounts were frozen; her electronic devices confiscated. Beyond basic necessities, she was cut off from all external contact. Lin Zhenye acted swiftly and decisively, launching an internal purge: anyone who’d had close ties to Lin Yin—or might be implicated—was investigated or reassigned from key positions. A heavy, oppressive silence settled over the Lin household. Zhou Yawen fell gravely ill, her spirit shattered; she spent her days in tears, uncertain whether she wept for her foster daughter’s betrayal—or for the sudden, catastrophic collapse of her family. Lin Wan’s life, however, appeared utterly unchanged. She continued her studies diligently, preparing for the upcoming selection rounds of the International Science Olympiads. Simultaneously, she began studying Lin Group’s business structure and financial reports in greater depth. Occasionally, she visited Lin Zhenye’s study—not to curry favor, but to ask pointed questions about business strategy. Her inquiries were incisive, cutting straight to the heart of matters; her analyses—especially regarding investment risks and opportunities in emerging tech fields—were often startlingly original, even to Lin Zhenye himself. Watching this increasingly unfamiliar daughter, Lin Zhenye felt his inner balance violently sway. Guilt? Yes—some. But not much. What dominated instead was wariness—and, reluctantly, a dawning, urgent recognition of extraordinary talent. Beneath its polished exterior, Lin Group was riddled with problems: stagnant growth in traditional businesses, failed attempts at transformation, and a cash flow stretched perilously thin. Lin Yin’s betrayal dealt yet another blow, eroding confidence among key partners. Lin Wan seized this moment. After the International Mathematical Olympiad (IMO), she delivered on expectations—winning gold and returning home in triumph. Almost simultaneously, a small-scale, algorithm-driven investment she’d quietly piloted earlier yielded an unimaginably massive return.

Walking Against the Light

The gentle, golden morning light atop the mountain stretched long and healing, tenderly cradling every trace of ambiguity and budding affection. Side by side at the mountain’s windy peak, they watched endless gilded clouds drift slowly across the sky. The breeze whispered softly; time stood still in perfect serenity. In this moment, there was no workplace restraint or hesitant probing, no gossiping whispers from others, no suppressed jealousy or tangled emotional push-and-pull—only two hearts, finally laid bare and pressed tightly together. The descent remained just as gentle and steady. Their fingers stayed interlaced, as always. Lin Yushen kept Shen Xingye safely shielded in front of him, his pace relaxed and unhurried. Their disciplined, athletic physiques—honed through years of rigorous self-care—became even more apparent on the downhill path: stable stamina, steady breathing—even walking the entire route at a leisurely pace, neither showed the slightest sign of fatigue. They chatted and laughed all the way down, hands never parting. Sunlight spilled onto their clasped knuckles, warm and radiant. Neither mentioned the truth lying beneath this gentle calm—that unseen currents were already surging, and a storm loomed just beyond the horizon. After lunch, Lin Yushen safely escorted Shen Xingye home. He watched the boy walk into his residential complex, his slender, clean silhouette fading gradually from view—until it vanished completely. Only then did the man whose eyes had just moments before brimmed with tender warmth settle into quiet stillness. The weekend’s mild sunlight streamed through the car window, yet failed entirely to warm Lin Yushen’s rapidly cooling heart. The mountain-top tenderness, the heat of their joined palms, the bright, sparkling joy in the boy’s eyes—all remained vivid in his senses. Yet within mere minutes, that warmth was brutally submerged beneath a towering wave of icy reality. He didn’t drive off immediately. Instead, he sat motionless inside the car, its black body hidden beneath the shade of the neighborhood’s trees. The sealed cabin shut out all external noise—and trapped within it all the suffocating weight he had nowhere to release. His phone vibrated persistently in his palm, its screen flashing on and off repeatedly—again and again. It was the landline number from the Lin family’s ancestral residence. He’d been avoiding this call for three full days. In the corporate world, no matter how severe the project flaws or how intractable the business crises, he’d always remained composed, methodical, fully in control. But this time, the crisis struck at the very roots of his family—layer upon layer of collapse, pressing down until he could barely breathe. Lin Group specialized in high-end infrastructure and urban supporting projects. Recently, major municipal policy shifts—combined with collective price hikes from upstream material suppliers and the abrupt withdrawal of overseas capital partners—had collided like successive hammer blows, shattering the Group’s previously stable cash flow. At this week’s board meeting, the CFO had handed over the coldest set of financial statements imaginable—in front of all shareholders. Massive quarterly losses. Multiple ongoing construction projects forced to halt. A cliff-like plunge in bank account balances. Liquid assets on hand would not last beyond month-end. Even more devastating: several long-term investor partners, sensing trouble, had suspended new funding and tightened cooperation terms. Rumors spread rapidly across industry circles—everyone whispering that the Lin family’s foundations were crumbling, their downfall imminent. Last night, subcontractors from two flagship projects staged a joint work stoppage and protest, blocking the Group’s main entrance to demand overdue payments. Chaos erupted; public sentiment teetered on the edge of escalation. An empire built over decades of deep industry roots—suddenly, overnight, battered by gales, trembling on the brink of collapse. His fingertips brushed the heated phone screen. Lin Yushen’s gaze darkened. At last, he pressed 'Answer' and murmured lowly, "Hello." From the other end came an elderly, authoritative voice—no pleasantries, no preamble, only blunt, heavy words: "Yushen, how long do you plan to hide?" "You know better than anyone what shape the company is in now."

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