Inside the Lin villa, the air was thick with a mixture of disbelief and frantic greed. Gold-leafed folders were spread across the mahogany coffee table like sacred relics.
"Two hundred million dollars in assets..." Wesley Lin whispered, his fingers trembling as he touched the heavy parchment of the warehouse deed. "The debts are gone.
Every single one of them. Who could have done this for us?"
Oliver Lin, who had been publicly shamed at the gala only hours prior, stared at the documents with wide, calculating eyes. He saw the name of the sender: Crimson Dragon Investments. He had never heard of the firm, but he saw a golden opportunity to climb out of the pit of his own humiliation.
"Wait," Oliver said, his voice gaining a sudden, fake confidence. "I know who did this. It has to be Young Master Zhao Feng!"
Rachel looked up from the documents, her brow furrowed in deep thought. "The Zhao family? Oliver, Zhao Feng has been dodging my calls for weeks. Why would he suddenly pay off our debts and gift us a warehouse district through a shell company?"
"Don't you see, Rachel?" Oliver smirked, leaning back as he built his lie. "Zhao Feng has been chasing you for years. He saw how the Song family snubbed us tonight and realized this was his moment to be the hero. He used 'Crimson Dragon' to keep the banks from asking questions. He's proving that his family's power can save us when no one else will."
"Of course!" Elaine, Rachel's mother, clapped her hands, her face glowing with sudden relief. "Young Master Zhao is a true gentleman. He's a man of action, unlike some people who just stand around and breathe our air."
She shot a look of pure contempt at Ethan, who was standing quietly in the corner of the room, drying a stray tea glass.
Ethan watched them with a hollow feeling in his chest. Zhao Feng? He knew the man's reputation. Zhao Feng was a gambler who was currently being squeezed by high-interest loan sharks. He couldn't afford a new watch, let alone a two-hundred-million-dollar logistics hub. But Ethan stayed silent. If they wanted to believe a lie, it would keep the spotlight off him while he handled the Lu family's return.
"I'm going out for a walk," Ethan said calmly, placing the glass on the counter.
"Go! And don't come back until you've figured out how to be half as useful as Young Master Zhao!" Elaine snapped. "We need to call him and invite him for a thank-you dinner tomorrow. We don't need a loser like you ruining the mood."
Ethan walked out of the villa and into the cool, damp night. As soon as he reached the end of the block, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows pulled up silently. The window rolled down, and Nina, Diana Song's personal assistant, looked at him with an unreadable expression.
"Mr. Lu," she said. "Ms. Song would like to speak with you. Privately."
Ten minutes later, Ethan stood on the edge of the Star-Light Pier. The river breeze was biting, reminiscent of the rain that had fallen five years ago in the capital. Diana Song stood at the railing, silhouetted against the moonlit water.
She turned as he approached. The cold "Iron Empress" mask she wore in the boardroom was slightly cracked, replaced by an intense, searching gaze.
"You," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "Five years ago, I was drugged by rivals. I was a mess, and I stumbled into a room I never should have entered. We spent that night together...."
"I never got to say thank you," Diana said softly, her eyes reflecting the passing city lights. "That morning... I panicked. I heard my pursuers in the lobby and I fled. I didn't even know your name.."
"I spent five years trying to find you," Diana said, stepping closer. The scent of jasmine filled the space between them. "The memory was a blur of fever, but I never forgot the pendant I left on the nightstand for you. I kept the other half of the set."
She pulled a silver chain from her neck, revealing a small, silver moon charm—the exact mate to the one Ethan had tucked under his shirt.
Diana leaned closer, the scent of jasmine filling the small space between them. "I've spent five years and millions of dollars trying to find the man from Room 302. I checked every database, every CCTV feed. It was like you didn't exist. Who are you, Ethan? Truly?"
"I'm a man who survived," Ethan said simply. "Nothing more."
"A man who survived doesn't know the exact brewing temperature of a tea only served in the private gardens of the South," Diana countered, her eyes narrowing with professional curiosity.
"A man who survived doesn't remain this calm while being stepped on by the Lin family. You're hiding something."
Before Diana could press him further, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and her face darkened.
"It seems your wife's family is already celebrating their 'victory,'" she said, turning the screen toward him. It was a photo posted by Oliver Lin, showing a picture of the warehouse deed with the caption: 'A huge thanks to our true brother, Young Master Zhao, for the 200M gift! Real power recognizes real power!'
She leaned in, her eyes searching his. "It came from you, didn't it? Or the power behind you."
Ethan didn't blink. "The Lin family can believe whatever makes them sleep better at night. It doesn't change who I am in this house."
Ethan felt a cold, sharp smile tug at his lips.
"Let them celebrate. The higher they climb on a lie, the more it hurts when the ground vanishes."
Diana looked at him, a realization dawning on her. "You're not just hiding, Ethan. You're waiting for them to trap themselves."
"Goodnight, Ms. Song," Ethan said, turning to leave.
"Ethan!" she called out. He stopped. "I always pay my debts. If you won't take my money, then take my protection. From tonight on, the Song Conglomerate is watching the Lin family. Not for their sake... but for yours."
Ethan didn't look back, but his jaw tightened.
He had a wife at home who thought he was a failure, a family that treated him like a servant, and the most powerful woman in the province acting as his silent guardian.
The five years of exile were over, and the game had only just begun.