Old case
That text message mentioning her father's name was like a cold, venomous snake, coiling around Jiang Mo's neck, sending a chill down her spine even in her warm apartment. Her father, Jiang Weiguo, the middle school history teacher she always remembered as gentle, even somewhat timid—what "old case" did he have? She had never heard her parents mention it. The sender had precisely targeted the weakest, most untouchable link in her defenses.
The panic lasted only a moment, quickly replaced by a stronger anger. They had crossed the line. Utterly, without any moral boundaries. She gripped her phone tightly, her knuckles turning white from the force, her chest heaving. The neon lights of the city outside the window distorted into defiant spots of light in her eyes.
She took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. She didn't immediately reply to the text message, nor did she call her parents back home to verify. She needed information, needed to determine whether this was a real threat or just another psychological tactic. But in any case, the name "Mingyan Capital" was now inextricably linked to the red line of "touching family."
The next day, Jiang Mo was unusually late, arriving ten minutes late. When she entered the lab, the recording was about to begin. She was dressed in a black suit, her face somewhat pale, but her eyes were unusually sharp, like ice tempered by fire. She didn't even greet Researcher Zhou and the others as usual, going straight to her workstation and silently beginning to check the equipment.
Shen Zhiyan glanced at her from the control area, his gaze lingering for a moment on her pale face, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly. He didn't speak, but simply began the routine pre-recording instructions. His voice echoed through the laboratory through the loudspeakers, steady, clear, and as reliable as ever, but to Jiang Mo at this moment, it carried an indescribable, complex feeling.
Throughout the morning, she was in a state of high efficiency yet detachment. She completed all operations flawlessly, collecting data accurately, and even quickly resolved a minor technical problem encountered by a colleague during a team collaboration. However, the "keep away" aura emanating from her made Researcher Zhou, who had intended to lighten the mood with a joke, swallow his words.
During her lunch break, instead of going to the rest area, she walked alone to the sky bridge outside the laboratory building. The winter wind was biting, causing the hem of her coat to flutter. She needed the cold air to keep herself awake.
Footsteps came from the other end of the corridor. Shen Zhiyan walked over with two cups of hot drinks and handed one to her. It was a latte made by the central coffee machine, with a crooked leaf shape on top.
"Low temperatures will accelerate heat loss and affect the stability of operations in the afternoon," he explained as he handed her the coffee, his gaze falling on her cheeks, which were reddened by the wind.
Jiang Mo didn't refuse and took it; the warmth of the paper cup seeped through her gloves. "Thank you," she said, her voice a little hoarse.
The two stood side by side before the railing, watching the cars below flow like models. Silence spread in the cold wind, but it was no longer the tacit understanding they once shared; instead, it was filled with unspoken questions and wariness.
"Your trading today had a standard deviation 15 percent higher than usual," Shen Zhiyan suddenly spoke, his tone purely data-driven. "While still within acceptable limits, the fluctuations are abnormal. Have you encountered a new... source of interference?"
Jiang Mo's heart tightened suddenly. He noticed, and with such precision. She lowered her head and took a sip of coffee; the scalding liquid slid down her throat, bringing a brief moment of comfort.
"I guess so," she replied vaguely, without looking at him. "Some...personal matters."
Shen Zhiyan didn't press the matter further. He simply stood there silently, like a silent mountain, resisting the cold wind. This respectful lack of questioning, however, made Jiang Mo feel inexplicably irritated at that moment.
Just then, Xiao Chen, carrying several documents and hunching his shoulders, ran over from the other end of the corridor. When he saw them, he paused for a moment, then quickly greeted them: "Teacher Shen, Ms. Jiang, you're here too? It's so cold outside."
"Send documents?" Shen Zhiyan asked.
“Yes,” Xiao Chen nodded, clutching the document tighter. “It’s a follow-up evaluation report on the previous donation from ‘Mingyan Capital.’ The director asked me to bring it to you for review.” After he finished speaking, he realized that he might have mentioned a name he shouldn’t have, and glanced at Jiang Mo somewhat nervously.
The four characters "Mingyan Capital" pierced the fragile tranquility of the corridor like a needle.
Jiang Mo tightened her grip on the coffee cup, but didn't say anything.
Shen Zhiyan's expression remained unchanged; he simply said to Xiao Chen, "Put it in my office."
Feeling like he'd been granted a pardon, Xiao Chen quickly slipped away.
Only the two of them remained on the corridor. The atmosphere, however, was even more tense than before.
“That foundation,” Jiang Mo finally spoke, her voice trembling slightly in the cold wind. She turned her head and looked directly at Shen Zhiyan, “and 'Mingyan Capital'…”
She paused deliberately, observing his reaction. The cold wind tousled her hair, but her gaze remained fixed on him.
"Is this how they always treat business partners... first showing goodwill, then threatening the other party's family after being rejected?"
Her questions were highly targeted—specific actions that directly linked her to "Mingyan Capital": overtures (an endorsement invitation), rejection, and threats against her family.
Shen Zhiyan met her gaze, his eyes behind his glasses as deep as an ancient well. He remained silent for longer than usual, as if calculating some complex probability.
“When capital encounters resistance,” he finally began, his voice low and clear, “pressure is a common tactic. But with family…”
He paused noticeably here, his brows furrowing slightly; this was the first time Jiang Mo had seen a hint of disapproval on his face.
"This does not conform to the most basic rules of game theory," he said.
His response did not deny that Mingyan Capital might be involved in the threats, nor did it deny that "exerting pressure" is a common tactic. However, he clearly drew a line—"targeting family members" is crossing the line.
These words, like a pebble thrown into a frozen lake, created complex ripples in Jiang Mo's heart. Was he expressing his personal disapproval? Or was he implying that he was unrelated to this behavior?
During the afternoon's recording, Jiang Mo forced herself to stay focused. She couldn't afford to collapse, and she couldn't let her parents back home be implicated because of her. She needed strength, she needed allies, and she also needed to... figure out which side Shen Zhiyan was on in this game.
After finishing work, she didn't try to communicate with Shen Zhiyan again and left directly. Back in her apartment, she locked the door, drew all the curtains, and completely isolated herself from the outside world. She sat on the living room carpet, leaning against the sofa, her face illuminated only by the dim light from her phone screen in the darkness.
She opened her chat window with Linda, hovered her finger over the screen for a long time, and finally typed a line:
"Linda, do two things for me. First, find out what exactly happened in my father's so-called 'old case' at all costs, and be quick about it. Second, compile all the solid evidence we have regarding the other side's online trolls and marketing accounts' illegal operations, and back it up to a safe place."
She could no longer remain on the defensive. The enemy had extended their attack to her family; she had to bare her fangs.
The message was sent successfully. Jiang Mo tossed her phone aside, hugged her knees, and buried her face in them. In the darkness, she felt an unprecedented loneliness and exhaustion.
After an unknown amount of time, her private cell phone, the one known to only a select few, suddenly rang. It wasn't a text message, it was a call. The name flashing on the screen almost took her breath away—
Shen Zhiyan.
He had never dialed that number.
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