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When Lu Yan pushed open the heavy door to the conference room, the lingering heat of the argument inside seemed to still be there. Several senior directors brushed past him with grim faces, their silence filled with resentment, yet also revealing a weariness that seemed to have settled down.
Two-thirds majority vote.
He won.
Although the process was difficult, with repeated verbal battles and rounds of data confrontations, the resolution to support Lin Ruoyin's independent operation of "Yin Sheng" was ultimately passed by a narrow majority.
A few days later, Lin Ruoyin moved into her studio on the second floor of an old-style building in Wutong District. The sign "Yin Sheng" was small and simply hung by the door.
The space wasn't large, with hardwood floors and white walls. The window facing the street overlooked a few sycamore trees with yellowing leaves. Sunlight streamed in unobstructed, and the air carried the scent of dust and old wood, as well as a fresh, unique aroma of her own.
At the same moment, on the top floor of the Mohe Building.
Xu Jia stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window of the office.
He had just finished a merger and acquisition meeting, where another promising technology company was added to the Mocore empire.
Money, praise, news of rivals' setbacks... everything happened with perfect precision, just as predicted.
However, a tremendous sense of emptiness washed over me like a tide.
Xu Jia frowned, his gaze fixed on the bustling traffic outside the window.
He has everything.
But he felt like he had nothing.
Just then, the office door was suddenly flung open with a loud bang, breaking the cold silence of the room.
Zhou Hui's urgent voice followed immediately: "Miss Lin, you can't—"
A figure rushed in like a whirlwind.
Xu Jia turned around from the window, and when his gaze fell on the intruder's face, his usual cold and stern expression faltered almost imperceptibly.
It's Lin Ruomeng.
Five years had passed, and she had shed her girlish naiveté. The features between her brows, which resembled Lin Ruoyin's, were even more distinct. But at this moment, what burned in those similar eyes was not the calm and restraint that her older sister usually possessed, but a raging, almost bursting, anger.
My memory was abruptly pulled back to a certain yellowish afternoon.
The spacious and bright living room was filled with the sweet aroma of tea and snacks.
Xu Jia was invited to Lin Ruoyin's home by her father. At that time, Lin Ruomeng was still a high school student. She curiously looked at him and secretly winked at her sister. Lin Ruoyin playfully slapped her hand, and she laughed and dodged away.
At this moment, Lin Ruomeng, who was standing in front of him, looked like an enraged little beast with her brows tightly furrowed.
Zhou Hui followed closely behind, his face showing difficulty: "Mr. Xu, Miss Lin insists on seeing you..."
Xu Jia raised his hand, indicating to Zhou Hui that it was alright.
His gaze returned to Lin Ruomeng's face, following Zhou Hui's form of address: "Miss Lin, is there something you need?"
"Miss Lin?" Lin Ruomeng smiled sarcastically, as if she had heard a joke. "Brother Xu Jia, or should I call you President Xu?"
She took a step forward, staring intently at Xu Jia, and demanded, "Just what kind of situation do you want to drive my sister to?!"
Xu Jia gently furrowed his brow.
Seeing that he didn't react further, Lin Ruomeng became even angrier and half-shouted, "Do you really want to see her die to be happy?!"
Xu Jia paused for a moment before asking, "What do you mean?"
Lin Ruoyin opened the photo album and held her phone up to Xu Jia, saying, "Look for yourself!"
Xu Jia's gaze unconsciously fell downwards.
In the photo, Lin Ruoyin lies on a hospital bed, her face as pale as paper. Her eyes are closed, one hand rests on the white sheet, and there is tape on the back of her hand. A transparent IV tube is connected to a hanging IV bag, and the medicine is slowly being injected into her bluish veins, drop by drop.
However, just recently, Zhou Hui reported to him that Lin Ruoyin had taken some of Lu's business and re-established a company in Wutong District...
Xu Jia stood motionless. His face was as still as a frozen lake, but upon closer inspection, one could see that his fingers, hanging at his sides, were trembling very slightly.
When was this photo taken?
"It was just a few weeks ago!" Lin Ruomeng's actions, even as she put her phone away, were filled with surging anger as she looked at Xu Jia and said, "It's all because of you that she got acute pneumonia from exhaustion!"
The moment Lin Ruomeng plunged the first knife into Xu Jia's body, she immediately followed up with another: "Why are you doing this? Revenge? But what are you retaliating against? Revenge that my sister married Lu Yan soon after breaking up with you?"
Xu Jia remained silent, which was taken as tacit agreement.
She took another step forward, looking like she had finally been able to vent her pent-up frustration: "You idiot! You madman! You blind man!"
Xu Jia: "..."
Lin Ruomeng: "My family was on the verge of bankruptcy at the time. My sister agreed to marry Lu Yan when she was desperate and wanted to save me from my life-threatening situation! Lu Yan also wanted to get rid of blind dates. They got together because they each got what they wanted, and they were just pretending to be husband and wife for the past five years."
After Lin Ruomeng finished speaking in a cathartic outburst, all that remained was heavy breathing and uncontrollable tears streaming down her face. She looked at Xu Jia, watching as shock, confusion, and fear crumbled little by little beneath the cold mask on his face.
Lin Ruomeng finally yelled at him, "You don't know anything at all, you idiot!"
Then he suddenly turned around, opened the door, and ran out.
The air in the office seemed frozen.
A suffocating silence spread.
After a long while, a muffled "bang" was heard.
Xu Jia's hand slipped and slammed heavily against the edge of the table. His head was lowered, and stray hairs fell across his forehead, obscuring his eyes. Only his tightly pursed, bloodless lips and his sudden, rapid, as if he were suffocating, breaths were visible.
Zhou Hui's heart skipped a beat, and he stood frozen a few steps away. He had never seen Xu Jia like this before. Like an expensive sculpture that had suddenly lost its soul, leaving only a cold and gorgeous empty shell.
Time seemed to stretch out infinitely, each second heavy and suffocating.
Then, Zhou Hui saw that Xu Jia's hand, which was bracing itself on the edge of the table, began to tremble uncontrollably. At first, it was just a slight spasm in his fingertips, but it quickly spread to his entire palm, causing the muscles in his forearm to twitch visibly. The ebony tabletop was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting his taut, pale knuckles and the prominent blue veins on the back of his hand.
He still didn't look up or make a sound.
But Zhou Hui could feel a silent, violent storm sweeping through, tearing apart, and destroying everything within this rigid shell. The logic of hatred that he had relied on for survival over the past five years, the revenge empire he had meticulously built, the cornerstone of the Ink Core's existence... all of it had been shattered in those few short minutes by Lin Ruomeng's tearful screams and the glaring photographs.
"So, you're retaliating by marrying Lu Yan soon after breaking up with my sister?"
He thought so.
No, no, he didn't think so.
He originally thought that Lin Ruoyin was doing it for his own good, and didn't want him to sacrifice his artistic ideals and go down the path of commercialization.
He had thought they were only separated temporarily.
But the news of her marriage to Lu Yan shattered his faith.
The day he heard the news, he thought his assumptions were a joke.
It turns out that all the countless things that I exhausted my energy and destroyed over the past five years were the real, utter joke.
"Clang—"
A sudden, sharp crack broke the silence.
It was Xu Jia's hand, which was supporting him on the edge of the table, that accidentally knocked over the white porcelain pen holder on the corner of the table, whether from exhaustion or violent trembling. The pen holder rolled to the ground and shattered into pieces, with fragments and the several expensive fountain pens inside scattered in a disheveled state.
The sound was like a switch.
Xu Jia suddenly sat up, his movements so abrupt he almost stumbled. He didn't look at Zhou Hui, nor at the mess on the ground, but stared blankly at a point in the void in front of him, his face a terrifying ashen white.
Then, without warning, he turned around, his steps unsteady yet swift, almost bursting open the door to the restroom inside the office.
"President Xu!" Zhou Hui finally reacted and quickly followed.
The bathroom door slammed shut in front of him, nearly hitting his nose.
A series of retching sounds came from inside.
The voice carried an intense pain that seemed to hollow out his internal organs, mixed with near-suffocating gasps and a burning hoarse sound in his throat.
Zhou Hui stood frozen outside the door. He listened to the continuous vomiting sounds inside, and his face turned pale.
He knew that all the pressure and pain that had been placed on the Lu family during this period had now rebounded, turning into blades that were slowly tearing Xu Jia's soul apart.
Inside the door, the vomiting gradually subsided, replaced by the abrupt and rapid sound of water being turned on and off, before falling silent again.
Water droplets from the loose faucet slammed against the bottom of the ceramic sink, producing a monotonous and hollow echo.
Zhou Hui stood outside the door. He could imagine the scene inside. Cold tiles, pale light, and a face devoid of all color and life reflected in the mirror. Xu Jia was probably leaning against the edge of the sink, water droplets dripping from his drooping hair, perhaps with a tremor he couldn't quite suppress.
It wasn't just the physical weakness caused by vomiting. It was the emptiness and chill left behind after the spiritual world had been uprooted.
I don't know how much time passed, maybe only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity.
The door was pulled open from the inside.
Xu Jia came out.
“President Xu…” Zhou Hui’s throat tightened, and he took half a step forward.
Xu Jia stood there for a long time before responding: "Zhou Hui."
“President Xu,” Zhou Hui replied immediately, his heart pounding.
“All actions against the Lu family,” he said slowly, each word tinged with exhaustion, “must cease immediately. Anything already underway, halt. Anything yet to be carried out, cancel.”
Zhou Hui replied in a deep voice, "Yes."
"Contact Lu's existing creditors in the name of Mohe. Discuss a debt restructuring plan. Mohe can provide transitional financing support on the most favorable terms. Don't let them know it's Mohe."
"Furthermore, provide all necessary assistance to Yin Sheng anonymously, using the name of a third-party organization." He paused, then added, almost inaudibly, "Don't let her know."
Zhou Hui wrote down all the instructions one by one: "Understood."
He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Mr. Xu, what are your plans for the rest of the evening? I was originally scheduled to meet with..."
"Cancel," Xu Jia interrupted him. "Cancel everything."
He picked up his coat, his movements slow and deliberate, as if all his strength had been drained.
“I need to leave for a few days.” He didn’t say where he was going, and Zhou Hui would never ask. “You handle the company matters. Don’t contact me unless absolutely necessary.”
“President Xu…” Zhou Hui looked at his pale profile, which was not only covered with fatigue, but also with a kind of… deathly aura.
He couldn't help but whisper, "I think you need to rest. Should I call the doctor...?"
"No need." Xu Jia shook his head, turned and walked to the door, opened it, and went out.
Zhou Hui stood there, listening to the footsteps gradually disappear at the end of the corridor, finally swallowed up by the ding-dong of the elevator.
Zhou Hui sighed softly.
He knew that from this moment on, everything would be different.
The war ended abruptly.
The man who started the war, utterly despondent, walked alone to his place of exile.
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