He reached out to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lit it with a flick of his lighter, and took a slow, deliberate drag, the wispy smoke curling up around him like a thin veil, blurring his sharp features. A soft knock echoed at the door, and Yun Jue entered with a respectful demeanor, his posture straight as he stood before the man on the bed. "Young Master, regarding the woman from last night—" he began, only to be cut off mid-sentence. "I already know," Long Qingyue interrupted, his voice calm and unhurried, as if the matter held little weight. The smoke swirled in his dark eyes, dimming their usual sharpness into a hazy, distant glow. Yun Jue froze for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He knew his young master well—Long Qingyue had never been one to dabble with women of unknown origins, let alone those with unclear backgrounds. Yet this time, he had made an exception, and Yun Jue dared not press further, only silently wondering if there was a misunderstanding hidden beneath it all. "Miss Dong called this morning," he continued, his tone remaining deferential. "She asked you to call her back once you woke up." Long Qingyue nodded slightly, his gaze sharp as it swept over Yun Jue. "How are the preparations for the cruise? The guests this time are all prominent figures—no mistakes are allowed." "Everything is in place, Young Master," Yun Jue replied promptly. "We've deployed our most capable men for the security detail; there will be no errors." Long Qingyue took another drag of his cigarette, the ember glowing faintly in the dim light. "Nothing in this world is absolute," he said, his voice low and profound. "Until the very end, no one can say who will emerge as the winner." He pressed the half-smoked cigarette into the crystal ashtray on the nightstand, the sound of burning tobacco hissing softly as it was extinguished. In his mind, the image of a stubborn, determined face flickered—her eyes bright with resolve, her posture unyielding even in the face of adversity. It was a face that had unexpectedly etched itself into his thoughts. Memories surged unbidden: a young girl, far younger than him, standing before him with a calmness beyond her years, her voice clear and firm. "Remember, there are no certainties in this world," she had said, her eyes steady as she looked at him, disheveled and defeated after a bitter setback. "Even if you hold all the cards, even if victory seems certain, your opponent can always turn the tide—never let your guard down." Yun Jue, sensing the shift in his young master's mood, bowed his head in contrition. "I'm sorry, Young Master. I overstepped." "Leave," Long Qingyue said, his tone softening slightly as he picked up the landline beside the bed. His fingers moved deftly over the dial, a rare warmth softening his cold gaze—warmth that only emerged in moments like this, when the weight of his power and responsibility lifted, if only for a moment. --- Mu Nuanxin rushed home as fast as she could, her steps hurried yet steady. She had tended to her wound hastily earlier—though she had thrown herself at the blade with purpose, she had carefully controlled her strength, ensuring the injury was not life-threatening. The blood had looked terrifying, but the cut was shallow, a calculated risk to prove her resolve. Fortunately, she had bought a new outfit the day before with Tang Tian; otherwise, she would have been unable to return home in such a disheveled state, her clothes torn and stained from the night's chaos. Before stepping out of the car, she checked her appearance repeatedly in the rearview mirror, smoothing her hair and adjusting her collar to hide any trace of the wound beneath. Only when she was certain she looked presentable did she push open the door and rush inside. The house was in shambles—furniture toppled, belongings scattered across the floor, as if a storm had swept through. Before she could process the mess, a small figure came running toward her, sobbing uncontrollably. "Sister! Sister!" Mu Qiqi threw herself into her arms, her small body trembling with fear. "Daddy… Daddy was taken away! Those men came and took him, and I'm so scared!" Mu Nuanxin winced as the impact jostled her wound, but she ignored the sharp pain, wrapping her arms tightly around her little sister. She patted her back gently, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart. "It's okay, Qiqi. I'm here now. Tell me what happened." At that moment, her mother, Yang Peijie, stumbled into the room, her eyes red and swollen from crying, her face pale and haggard. When she saw Mu Nuanxin, she let out a choked sob, as if finding a lifeline. "Nuanxin, you're back… Thank God you're back." "Mom, what's going on?" Mu Nuanxin asked, her voice urgent. "Why was Daddy taken away? He's an honest man—he would never do anything wrong." Yang Peijie shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know… Those men said he embezzled money—ten billion yuan! They didn't listen to a word I said, just dragged him away. I don't know what to do…" Mu Nuanxin's brows furrowed deeply, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. Ten billion yuan—an absurd accusation. Her father was a man of integrity, a man who had always taught her to be honest and upright. There was no way he could have embezzled such a huge sum. She led her sister to the sofa, her mind racing. Whatever had happened, she knew she had to find a way to clear her father's name. But first, she had to calm down, to think clearly—and to hide the truth of her own night from her family, for fear of adding to their worries. The road ahead would be long and difficult, but she had no choice but to press on.
