By morning, Zhao Wei had made up his mind.
Huang Min had crossed the line, and that meant there were no more rules.
He didn't eat breakfast. He didn't sit through the usual 8 a.m. shareholder briefing.
Instead, he was in the underground parking garage, stepping into the back of Gao Fang's car.
"Everything you asked for," Gao Fang said, sliding a leather folder across the seat. "Preliminary. I had to pull some strings — Min keeps his files sealed tight."
Zhao Wei flipped it open. The first page was a polished résumé — Ivy League, early rise through the shipping industry, sharp investment plays.
Too perfect.
---
"Skip the window dressing," Zhao Wei said.
Gao Fang turned to the marked pages. "Before all that, there was a small import firm in Guangdong. Min was listed as a silent partner. Six months later, the place collapsed under a customs fraud investigation. No one could pin anything on him — he'd pulled out his money just in time."
"Lucky timing," Zhao Wei muttered.
"Or planned timing." Gao Fang tapped another page. "Two years after that, there's a pattern — shell companies, short-term partnerships, sudden withdrawals right before the hammer falls. Always someone else takes the blame."
Zhao Wei studied the timeline. "He's been laundering his reputation as carefully as his money."
---
They pulled up to a warehouse district near the docks. Inside one of the units, an older man in oil-stained coveralls was waiting.
"This is Chen Guo," Gao Fang said. "Used to work for Min's Guangdong firm. Lost his job when it collapsed. Hasn't spoken to anyone about it since — until now."
Chen Guo's handshake was rough, calloused. "I heard what happened at the boy's school," he said. "Min's cruel. Always has been. But you won't beat him with lawyers. You need to break his image. Show the world what he really is."
"And you can help me do that?" Zhao Wei asked.
Chen's eyes narrowed. "For the right reasons. Min ruined more than jobs. Families. Mine included."
---
The man told his story — unpaid wages, falsified documents, backroom deals with port officials. Zhao Wei listened in silence, cataloging every detail.
By the end, Chen slid a USB drive across the table.
"Everything I kept. Emails. Scans. Shipping manifests with his signature."
Zhao Wei pocketed it without looking. "You've done the right thing."
As they left, Gao Fang kept glancing at him in the rearview mirror. "You're thinking of going public with this?"
"Not yet," Zhao Wei said. "If we throw it out too soon, he'll spin it. I want him cornered. Then we drop it."
---
That evening, Zhao Wei found Xiao An in the living room, curled up with a book.
The boy looked up. "You came home late."
"I had business."
Xiao An's gaze lingered. "You look… different."
Zhao Wei sat beside him. "Sometimes, to protect someone, you have to fight in ways you don't like. But I want you to remember something — nothing they say changes who you are."
Xiao An nodded slowly, though Zhao Wei wasn't sure he understood.
---
Later, alone in his study, Zhao Wei plugged in the USB.
Files popped up — thousands of them. The first was a spreadsheet, unassuming at first glance, but riddled with forged invoices.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey and began sorting through them one by one.
Somewhere in this mess was the weapon he needed.
And when he found it, Huang Min wouldn't just be embarrassed.
He'd be finished.