The sun hit the bare white walls of Apartment 1204 at 6:58 AM. It illuminated a single IKEA desk, a top-tier laptop humming quietly, and Jiang Yue, already dressed in a simple, severe black blouse and trousers she'd bought with a tiny advance from Li Chen.
She looked at the blank document on her screen. The cursor blinked.
What did you want to build?
For months, her mind had been a storm of fear, shame, and legal documents. Now, in the quiet, the storm had cleared, leaving behind a stark, empty landscape. It was terrifying. It was liberating.
Her fingers found the keys.
Project: Skeleton Key Logistics.
Mission: To democratize predictive supply chain intelligence.
She typed. At first, it was slow. Then, it became a torrent. Market analysis. Competitor mapping. A rough algorithm framework based on her old, ignored models. She lost herself in it, the only sound the tapping of keys and the distant hum of the city waking up.
At 10:17 AM, a soft knock came at the door. Not from the hallway. From the internal door connecting to Apartment 1203.
Li Chen entered, carrying two cups of black coffee. He placed one beside her, his eyes scanning the screen over her shoulder for five silent seconds.
"You're focusing on maritime port data first," he stated.
"It's the most publicly available data stream for validation. Also, the most congested," she replied, not looking up. "If the model can predict a Shanghai port slowdown by 3% accuracy over the standard market forecast, we have a sellable product."
"Good. Narrow focus. Provable value." He took a sip of his coffee. "I've registered the corporate shell. 'Skeleton Key Analytics.' You are listed as CEO and Chief Product Officer. I am the silent board chairman. The five hundred thousand is in the business account. Your first monthly salary has been deposited to your personal account."
She finally looked at him. "Salary? I haven't earned anything."
"You are the core asset. Assets require maintenance. Food. Shelter. Clothes that aren't torn." His tone left no room for sentiment. "It is a business expense. Do not waste it."
It was the coldest form of care she could imagine. And it made her feel more human than any pity ever had.
"There's a problem," she said, turning back to the screen. "The data I need for the Asian regional model… the cleanest aggregator is a subsidiary of the Luo family conglomerate."
The name hung in the air. The Luo family. The bank that had pulled the plug on her father.
Li Chen didn't react. "What's the cost?"
"A quarterly API subscription. Fifty thousand credits."
"Purchase it."
Her head snapped up. "With their data? Using your money? That's—"
"That is business," he interrupted, his gaze steady. "They sold your father a rope. He used it to build a bridge. When the wind blew, they claimed it was a noose and kicked him off. They are a tool vendor. We are buying a tool. The history is irrelevant. Only the utility matters."
The ruthless logic of it silenced her. He was right. Letting pride block a necessary resource was the mistake her father had made—trusting loyalty over contracts.
"Now," Li Chen said, pulling up a chair. "Your personal liabilities. List them. Every single person who holds a piece of your past that can be used to pull you down."
For the next hour, they worked. It was a brutal, surgical inventory. The furious former friend who'd loaned her money. The fashion house suing for an unpaid dress. The gossip columnist who'd made a career off her fall. Wang Jin, her ex-fiancé.
As she spoke, Li Chen took notes on a plain notepad. He didn't judge. He cataloged. He assessed each one not as a person, but as a threat vector with an associated cost of neutralization.
"Understood," he said finally, closing the notepad. "My task this week. Your task is to build the alpha model. I need a demonstrable prototype in fourteen days."
"Fourteen days? That's impossible!"
"It is the timeline," he said, standing. "Potential is worthless without pressure. The furnace is lit, CEO Jiang. Forge the steel."
He left as quietly as he came.
Jiang Yue stared at the closed door, then at the code on her screen. A fierce, desperate energy surged in her chest. Fourteen days. She turned back to her laptop, her fingers flying faster now.
Across the city, in a dimly lit, borrowed office space, Li Chen reviewed his own numbers. The 0 in his Liquid Capital was a glaring, red warning.
A new System quest had appeared at dawn.
[Portfolio Diversification Required.]
[A robust portfolio mitigates risk. Identify and secure Asset #2.]
[Reward upon successful Investment: Operating Capital Injection.]
He needed to find another "undervalued asset." But his method required proximity, observation. He couldn't just scroll news headlines. He had to go where the fallen gathered.
His eyes landed on a small, faded article on a finance tabloid site: "Once-Glittering Starlet Su Li Vanishes. Failed Comeback After 'Blue Phoenix' Scandal."
The picture showed a woman of ethereal beauty, her eyes holding a world of shattered light. An actress. Blacklisted after a powerful producer blamed his film's failure on her. A classic sacrifice.
It was a place to start. The entertainment world was a mirror of the corporate one—just with prettier knives.
That evening, Li Chen found himself outside a shabby, neon-lit rehearsal studio in the city's old arts district. He'd learned Su Li took nightly voice lessons here, a futile attempt to stay sharp while the world forgot her.
He waited in the shadow of a doorway, watching.
At 9 PM, she emerged. She was even more striking in person, but hunched in on herself, a wounded bird trying to be invisible. She wore a simple coat, frayed at the cuffs. Her head was down.
Her Potential Value floated above her.
Current: 8.
[Locked Potential: 954 - 'Empathic Muse' (Emotional Intelligence: Mythic-Tier, Persuasive Presence: Legendary-Tier)]
Another staggering number. Not a CEO, but a different kind of powerhouse. A woman who could understand and move the human heart—a weapon in any field, currently aimed at her own chest.
As she walked towards a dingy bus stop, a sleek electric coupe pulled up to the curb. A man in a flashy jacket rolled down the window. Producer Gao. The man from the article.
"Su Li! Still trudging through the mud, I see," the man called, his voice oily and loud. "Look, I'm a charitable man. I've got a new project. A web series. The female lead… well, it's a bit risque. But for you, in your position… I could make it work. We could discuss it over dinner. My penthouse. Tonight."
The offer wasn't an offer. It was a predator circling wounded prey.
Su Li stopped. She didn't look at him. Her shoulders tensed. Li Chen could see the calculation in her stillness: the crushing need for work, any work, warring with the certain knowledge of what the "dinner" would cost.
Her Current Value flickered down to 5.
Before she could answer, Li Chen moved.
He didn't stride dramatically. He simply walked out of the shadows and stood at the bus stop, a few feet from her, as if waiting for the same bus. He ignored Producer Gao completely.
He spoke, not to the producer, but to the air, calm and clear. "Interesting valuation methodology," Li Chen said, as if noting a market anomaly. "Assessing a masterpiece's worth based on the dust currently on its frame."
Su Li's head turned slightly. Producer Gao frowned, leaning out his window. "Who the hell are you?"
Li Chen finally looked at the man. He activated a new, subconscious function he'd discovered—a brief, intense Appraisal.
[Target: Gao Jian. Potential Value: 31 (Declining). Core Traits: Venal, Short-sighted, Debt-Ridden.]
[Liability Assessment: High. Recommended Action: Ignore.]
"I'm a connoisseur," Li Chen said, his voice devoid of insult, which made it more insulting. "You appear to be a pawn shop. You're not in the same market."
He then turned his full attention to Su Li. He met her confused, wary eyes. He saw the deep, resonant pain there, the talent crushed under humiliation.
"Miss Su," he said, his tone shifting to one of pure, clean business. "My name is Li Chen. I represent a new talent management and strategic development firm. We believe your career has been grossly mispriced by the current market. We would like to discuss a comprehensive rebranding and repositioning contract. No dinners required. Just a conversation at our offices, at your convenience."
He held out a simple, matte black business card. It had only two lines: Li Chen. Strategic Capital.
Su Li stared at the card as if it were a snake or a lifeline. Producer Gao spluttered. "Rebranding? Who are you kidding? She's poison! Her name is mud!"
Li Chen didn't even glance back. "Then it's fertile ground for something new to grow," he said, his eyes still on Su Li. "The bus is unreliable at this hour. My car is just around the corner. May I offer you a ride home while you consider the offer?"
It was a choice. A real one. Not between a predator and nothing, but between the known hell and a mysterious, calm-handed stranger.
Su Li looked from the leering producer to Li Chen's impassive face. She looked at the card.
Slowly, she reached out and took it.
Her Potential Value flickered.
Current: 8… 12…
"Thank you, Mr. Li," she whispered. "A ride would be… appreciated."
As she stepped away from the curb to follow him, leaving a furious Producer Gao behind, a new alert filled Li Chen's vision.
[New 'Undervalued Asset' Identified: Su Li.]
[Initial Contact Successful.]
[Quest Updated: Initiate 'Fortune Injection' for Asset #2.]
[Current Liquid Capital: 0 Credits.]
[Warning: Insufficient Funds.]
He had found Asset #2.
Now he needed the capital to secure her.
And Jiang Yue' furnace was only just getting hot.