At the Shen villa in Jingdu, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the clinking of champagne flutes. Shen Ruo was dressed in a custom-made emerald gown, her eyes shining as she held a glass trophy. She was basking in the praise for her latest "breakthrough" on neural regeneration—work she had secretly lifted from Shen Xi's notebooks before having her exiled to the countryside.
Liang Xiujin, Shen Xi's stepmother, stood by her side with a look of smug satisfaction. "Our Ruo-er is truly the pride of the Shen family," she said, smoothing the lace on her sleeves. "Unlike that unlucky wretch we cast out to the hills. I heard she's practically a beggar now, rotting in the mud where she belongs."
"Mom, don't mention her," Shen Ruo said with a delicate, practiced sigh. "It's a shame she didn't inherit any of the Shen family's dignity. Some people are just born for the dirt."
CRASH.
The heavy mahogany front doors didn't just open—they were kicked off their hinges. The sound echoed like a gunshot through the ballroom, and the crystal chandelier overhead rattled violently.
Shen Xi walked in.
She was a mess of mud and dried blood, her cheap cotton clothes torn and soaked. But the way she walked—back straight as a spear, chin tilted, eyes glowing with a chilling, regal light—forced the entire room into a suffocating silence.
"Who invited this 'Star of Misfortune' back?" Shen's father, Shen Yuanfeng, roared. His face turned purple with rage as he slammed his glass down. "Guards! Throw her out! She's an eyesore!"
"I'd like to see who dares to touch me," Shen Xi said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a razor-edged authority that made the approaching guards freeze.
She walked through the crowd of socialites, who recoiled as if she were a plague. She stopped in the center of the room, her gaze landing on the trophy in Shen Ruo's hand. In her mind, the [Spectral Medical System] instantly cross-referenced the data on the trophy's plaque with the actual scientific flaws in the stolen work.
"Sister," Shen Xi said, a cruel, beautiful smirk playing on her lips. "I see you're still using my leftovers to feed your vanity. Tell me, do you even understand the third paragraph of that paper? The part regarding the basal ganglia's response to neurotoxins?"
Shen Ruo turned pale, her hand trembling. "I... I don't know what you're talking about! You're just jealous because you're a failure!"
"Is that so?" Shen Xi stepped closer, her aura so cold that Shen Ruo retreated until she hit a wall. "Then let's see how the 'Genius' handles the fact that the research is incomplete. Without the final formula locked in my head, your little paper is nothing but a death sentence for anyone who tries to implement it. Are you prepared to be a murderer, Ruo-er?"
"You—!" Shen Yuanfeng raised his hand to strike her.
VROOOOM.
The roar of high-performance engines drowned out his words. Outside, dozens of black military SUVs swerved into the courtyard, tires screeching as they surrounded the villa. Qi Yuan stepped out of the lead vehicle, followed by a squad of armed soldiers in black tactical gear.
Qi Yuan walked past the stunned guests, his expression a mask of professional coldness. He ignored the master of the house and stopped directly in front of Shen Xi, bowing with the highest level of military etiquette.
"Miss Shen," Qi Yuan's voice was crisp. "The Young Marshal's condition has flared up. He hasn't slept in thirty-six hours, and his patience is... thin. He says if you aren't there to 'treat' him within the next twenty minutes, he will personally come here to collect you."
The guests gasped. The Young Marshal? Mu Feichi? The man who held the life and death of the nation in his hands was sending a private escort for this "beggar" girl?
Shen Xi looked at the terrified, shaking Shen Ruo and then at Qi Yuan. She smiled—a sharp, beautiful blade of a smile.
"Tell the Marshal I'm coming. But I'm going to need a very large bill sent to my 'father' for my time. After all, a professional consultant isn't cheap."