A week into her exile, Ye Xia decided it was time to stop being patient and start being proactive. The matriarch was waiting for her to make a mistake. Instead, Ye Xia would force the matriarch to make one.
Her weapon was the one thing the Mo family valued above all else: their reputation. The Mo foundation was built on a perception of impeccable ethics and pure-hearted benevolence. What if that perception was cracked?
She tasked Silas and her digital mercenaries with a new mission: dig into the Mo family's philanthropic records. Not the public ones, but the internal ones. The ones that showed the ROI calculations, the cold, hard metrics that drove their "compassion."
It took three days of relentless digging, but they struck gold. They found internal memos discussing the abandonment of a vaccination program in a war-torn country because the "projected multiplier had fallen below 1.2." They found emails referring to disaster victims as "low-yield assets." They found the Benevolence Engine's cold calculus laid bare.
This was the truth behind the Mo family's charity. It was not compassion; it was a business. A brutally efficient one.
Ye Xia didn't release the documents to the public. That would be too blunt, and it would invite a counter-attack she couldn't handle. Instead, she sent a single, anonymized packet to the one person who would appreciate its significance most: Matriarch Mo herself.
Attached was the most damning memo, along with a simple message:
[I know how your engine works. The world would be very interested to learn that Mo benevolence is just another form of greed. Cease your attacks, or I will pull back the curtain.]
It was a nuclear deterrent. She was showing the matriarch that she understood the core of the Mo family's power, and she was not afraid to destroy it.
The response was not what she expected. It didn't come through back channels or intermediaries. It came as a direct video call request to her satellite phone. The caller ID was blank, but Ye Xia knew who it was.
She took a deep breath and accepted the call.
The face that filled the screen was ancient, severe, and radiated a cold power that was almost tangible. Matriarch Mo.
"So," the old woman said, her voice like grinding stones. "The mouse has teeth."
"I prefer to think of myself as a dragon, of sorts," Ye Xia replied, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her.
"You threaten what my family has built over generations."
"You threatened my existence," Ye Xia countered. "I am merely defending myself."
The Matriarch's eyes narrowed. "You have my grandson's loyalty. That is a prize I did not think could be won. But loyalty is a fleeting thing. Power is eternal. You have shown you understand power. Perhaps I misjudged you."
This was not a concession; it was a recalibration.
"What are you proposing?" Ye Xia asked.
"A truce," the Matriarch said. "Your assets will be unfrozen. The story will be retracted, attributed to a rogue source. In return, you will keep your knowledge of our… methods… to yourself. And you will stay away from my grandson."
The last condition was a poison pill. Ye Xia knew it. The matriarch was offering a way out, but at the cost of the one genuine connection she had made.
"Mo is not a child to be controlled," Ye Xia said. "He makes his own choices."
"We shall see," the Matriarch said, a cruel smile touching her lips. "The truce is offered. The terms are non-negotiable. You have 24 hours to decide."
The screen went black.
Ye Xia was left alone in the quiet cabin, holding a phone that felt like a live wire. She had won a battle, but the war for Mo's soul, and for her own future, had just begun.