The frantic energy of third-year high school was a bizarre, mundane counterpoint to the global chess game Ye Xia was playing. While she directed cyber-attacks and managed a multimillion-dollar portfolio, her classmates were drowning in a sea of practice tests and anxiety over the Gaokao, the national college entrance exam that would dictate their futures.
For Ye Xia, the exam was a triviality. Her future was already written in the lines of code of her system and the assets of her empire. She could buy her way into any university in the world. Yet, a stubborn part of her refused to take the easy way out. This was a battle from her first life that she had lost, too distracted by her crush on Liang Rui and undermined by Lin Wanwan's sabotage. This time, she would conquer it on her own terms. It was a point of pride, a closing of a old, personal loop.
She sat in the back of the classroom, a silent island of calm amidst the panic. She used the time not to cram, but to manage her affairs. Under the desk, her phone—a custom-built secure device—was a command center. She approved a transfer of system funds to waste on a failed experimental film project in Latvia, then reviewed a report from Silas on Yun Zhong's latest movements. He was quietly divesting from Horizon Dynamics, trying to cover his losses.
"The formulas for quadratic equations are essential," the teacher droned on. "You must be able to derive them in your sleep!"
Ye Xia's mind was deriving the potential ROI of a mining venture in Australia. The disconnect was surreal.
After class, as students mobbed the teacher for extra help, Ye Xia slipped away. She found a quiet spot in the school's neglected library, opening her laptop. A video call window connected her to Mo. His face, sharp and impassive, appeared on the screen. Their interactions had become a daily ritual, a strategic briefing that often bled into something more personal.
"Yun Zhong is wounded, but not out," Mo reported, his voice a low hum. "He's seeking capital from shadow lenders in Macau. A desperate move."
"Let him," Ye Xia said, her eyes scanning a live feed of the Asian markets. "Debt will make him reckless. We can use that." She paused. "My intelligence suggests his grandmother is the real power. She's the one who controls the family's traditional networks."
Mo was silent for a beat. "My grandmother is a… formidable woman. She does not like loose ends. Or unexpected variables."
"And I am an unexpected variable?"
"You are the definition of one," he said, and she thought she saw the ghost of a smile. "She has asked about you again."
A flicker of tension ran through Ye Xia. The Mo matriarch was a shadowy figure, even more enigmatic than her grandson. "What does she want?"
"To understand you. To quantify you. She believes all things can be categorized as either asset or liability." His gaze intensified. "She has not yet decided which you are."
The unspoken words hung between them: once she decided, she would act accordingly.
"I have my own categorizations," Ye Xia replied coolly. "And I am nobody's liability."
"I know," Mo said. "That is what makes you so interesting." He changed the subject. "The Gaokao is in three months. A pointless exercise for you. Why bother?"
"It's not pointless to me," she said, a defensive edge in her voice she hadn't intended. "It's something I need to do for myself."
Mo studied her, his head tilted. He was trying to decipher her, as always. "You have patterns, Ye Xia. Your growth, your knowledge… it doesn't follow a logical curve. It's as if you have access to a source of information that shouldn't exist."
Ye Xia's heart stuttered, but her face remained a mask of calm. "I'm a quick learner."
"There's quick, and then there's impossible," he said softly, his eyes boring into hers through the screen. "I have a system that allows me to… optimize philanthropy. It gives me data. Returns on compassion. It's how I've built what I have."
The admission was stunning. He had never been this direct. He was confessing to having a system, and in doing so, he was probing for a reciprocal confession.
Ye Xia held his gaze, her mind racing. This was the moment. She could deny it, she could confirm it, or she could deflect.
"We all have our secrets, Mo," she said finally, her voice even. "Some are just more unusual than others."
It was a non-answer, but it was an acknowledgment. He had revealed a piece of his truth; she had acknowledged its value without revealing her own.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Mo's face, a rare and transformative event. "Indeed, we do."
The connection ended, leaving Ye Xia alone in the silent library. Her hands were trembling slightly. The gaokao was the least of her concerns. The exam she was facing now was far more dangerous: a test of trust with the most powerful and mysterious man she had ever known.