The cold dread that had settled in Zhǐ Ruò's stomach refused to dissipate. Lì Chen's absence was a gaping hole in her carefully constructed defenses, a chink in her armor that Bai Song would undoubtedly exploit. She glanced at the financial documents scattered across her desk, the intricate web of deceit they revealed a stark contrast to the sleek, modern lines of her office. The subsidiary, once a symbol of her ambition, was now a loaded gun pointed squarely at her family's legacy.
She rose, her movements deliberate despite the turmoil raging within. She needed to project strength, to radiate an aura of invincibility, even if it was a carefully constructed facade. She walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the city sprawling beneath her. The glittering skyline, usually a source of pride, now felt like a mocking reminder of the power she was fighting against. Power built on corruption, on exploitation, on secrets buried deep within the foundations of this very city.
Her phone buzzed. It was the private investigator, a man known only as 'Mr. Chen'. She answered immediately. "Have you found anything?"
"I have," his voice was a low, gravelly murmur. "The information regarding your grandfather, Hé Qīng… it's sensitive. I suggest we meet in person."
Zhǐ Ruò felt a knot tighten in her chest. "And Bai Song?"
"He's been… busy. Extremely busy. He's been meeting with individuals known for their… specialized skills. Let's just say discretion isn't their strong suit."
"Assassins," Zhǐ Ruò breathed, the word hanging heavy in the air.
"Possible. Or… enforcers. Men who make problems disappear." He paused. "I suggest you take precautions, Ms. Hé. Bai Song is playing for keeps."
"I understand. Meet me at the usual place in an hour." She hung up, her mind racing. She needed to act, and fast. She couldn't afford to wait for Lì Chen, to wallow in her doubts and fears. She had to protect herself, her family, and the people who depended on her.
She contacted her head of security, a stoic ex-military man named Zhao. "Zhao, I need you to double the security detail at my apartment and at Hé Corporation headquarters. I also want a personal bodyguard assigned to me, around the clock."
"Understood, Ms. Hé. We anticipated this possibility. Additional personnel are already en route." Zhao's efficiency was a reassuring balm to her frayed nerves.
As she waited for Mr. Chen, Zhǐ Ruò reviewed the evidence she had gathered against Bai Song. The shell corporations, the offshore accounts, the documented instances of bribery and extortion – it was a mountain of incriminating evidence, enough to bury him for good. But she needed to be careful. Bai Song was a cornered animal, and a cornered animal was always the most dangerous.
Mr. Chen arrived promptly at the appointed time, a dimly lit tea house in a secluded corner of the city. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and anticipation. He slid into the booth opposite her, his eyes scanning the room before settling on her.
"The information regarding your grandfather is… complicated," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hé Qīng was a powerful man, but he had his weaknesses. Years ago, he had an affair with a young woman, a singer at a local cabaret. The affair lasted for several months, and Hé Qīng lavished her with gifts and money."
Zhǐ Ruò listened intently, her heart pounding in her chest.
"When the affair ended, the woman demanded a large sum of money to keep silent. Hé Qīng paid her, but the money mysteriously disappeared shortly after. The woman vanished without a trace. There were rumors of foul play, but nothing was ever proven."
"And Bai Song knows about this?" Zhǐ Ruò asked, her voice trembling.
"He knows. He has documents, photographs, even witness statements. It's enough to cause serious damage to your family's reputation."
Zhǐ Ruò closed her eyes, feeling the weight of her family's past crushing down on her. She had thought she was fighting against Bai Song, but she was also fighting against the ghosts of her ancestors.
"What about the woman?" she asked. "Can you find her?"
Mr. Chen shook his head. "I've tried. She disappeared without a trace. It's as if she never existed."
Zhǐ Ruò felt a surge of anger, directed at Bai Song, at her grandfather, at the entire corrupt system that had allowed this to happen. She would not be a victim. She would not allow her family's legacy to be tarnished. She would fight back, with every weapon at her disposal.
"I want you to leak the information about Bai Song's illicit activities to the media," she said, her voice cold and resolute. "I want his empire to crumble, his reputation to be destroyed. I want him to suffer the same humiliation and disgrace that he is threatening to inflict on my family."
Mr. Chen nodded. "It will be done. But be warned, Ms. Hé. This will escalate things. Bai Song will not take this lying down."
"I know," Zhǐ Ruò said, her eyes hardening. "I'm counting on it."
As Mr. Chen left, Zhǐ Ruò pulled out her phone and dialed Lì Chen's number again. Still no answer. Her anxiety spiked. Where could he be? Was he safe? Was he involved in this mess? The doubts gnawed at her, threatening to consume her.
She decided to take a chance. She drove to Lì Chen's studio, a dilapidated warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The building was dark and deserted. She cautiously entered, her bodyguard, a hulking figure named Jiang, close behind.
The air inside was thick with the scent of paint and turpentine. The studio was a chaotic mess of canvases, sculptures, and discarded materials. Zhǐ Ruò called out Lì Chen's name, but there was no response.
As she walked deeper into the studio, she noticed something strange. A section of the floor was covered in a thick layer of plastic sheeting. And on the plastic sheeting, there were drops of blood. Fresh blood.
Zhǐ Ruò's blood ran cold. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. Had Bai Song gotten to Lì Chen? Was this the reason for his absence? Had her involvement in this mess put him in danger?
She frantically searched the studio, her heart pounding in her chest. She found a hidden room behind a large canvas. Inside, she discovered a collection of weapons – knives, guns, even a crossbow. And on a table, she saw a photograph. It was a photograph of Bai Song, his face crossed out with a thick red marker.
Zhǐ Ruò stared at the photograph, her mind reeling. What was Lì Chen involved in? Was he a vigilante? A mercenary? A killer?
Suddenly, she heard a noise behind her. She turned around, her hand instinctively reaching for the gun she had recently started carrying. Standing in the doorway was Lì Chen, his face pale and drawn. He was holding a blood-soaked rag in his hand.
"Zhǐ Ruò," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You shouldn't be here."
"What's going on, Lì Chen?" she demanded, her voice trembling. "What are you involved in? Who are you?"
He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and regret. "I can't tell you," he said. "It's too dangerous. For both of us."
"Dangerous?" Zhǐ Ruò scoffed. "You think this isn't dangerous? Bai Song is trying to blackmail me, he's sending assassins after me, and you're standing here covered in blood, telling me it's too dangerous to tell me what's going on?"
Lì Chen hesitated, his gaze flickering between Zhǐ Ruò and Jiang. He knew he couldn't keep her in the dark any longer. He took a deep breath. "Alright," he said. "I'll tell you everything. But you have to promise me, no matter what I say, you won't run."
Zhǐ Ruò stared at him, her heart pounding. She was about to enter a world she never knew existed, a world of shadows and secrets, a world where nothing was as it seemed. And she had a feeling that once she crossed that threshold, there would be no turning back. She steeled herself. "I promise," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lì Chen began to speak, his voice low and measured, and as he spoke, Zhǐ Ruò realized that the game she was playing with Bai Song was far more complex and dangerous than she had ever imagined. It was a game of shadows, a game where the lines between good and evil were blurred, and a game where the only way to survive was to be willing to embrace the darkness.