The boardroom door clicked open with a soft metallic sigh, and Shen Haoxuan's smile sharpened like a blade finally unsheathed.
He didn't look toward the door at first.
He didn't have to.
He felt the panic ripple through the room even before she stepped inside.
Then—heels tapping like measured execution beats—Ming Su entered.
A velvet dress hugged her form in a way that seemed engineered to captivate. Her short bob gleamed with professional precision, soft bangs shifting as though stirred by an unseen breeze. And those big, deceptively innocent brown eyes—eyes that shimmered with a mystery no sane man would approach— it swept the room with easy confidence.
Behind her, her assistant Naina followed, carrying a tablet and a calm expression that suggested she'd walked through mines before breakfast.
The room inhaled.
George froze mid-gesture.
Armin stiffened outright—an instinctive jerk of disgust, as if someone had thrown ice water down his spine.
And Shen Haoxuan… hands folded, watching the unraveling begin.
But the one who truly broke…
…was Shu Yao.
He was already shaking from the earlier confrontation. His fingers trembled, he tried to steady. His heart thudded, but failed pointlessly.
And when Ming Su's gaze landed on him, soft, warm, eerily gentle—
—Shu Yao's breath caught.
His knees weakened.
His soul, already teetering, slipped.
Because her smile…
Her posture…
Her graceful tilt of the head…
She looked like Qing Yue.
Not a little.
Not vaguely.
Exactly.
Bai Qi saw her then—and everything inside him ripped open.
His jaw tightened first.
Then the knot in his throat loosened violently, forcing a swallow that tasted like betrayal, memory, and a ghost he never wanted resurrected.
He turned his head away as if burned.
Shen Haoxuan watched with delighted malice.
"Perfect," Shen murmured under his breath. "Absolutely perfect."
Ming Su crossed the room with the confident elegance of a woman who had rehearsed this choreography in front of a mirror—and understood the power she carried.
Her heels clicked once, twice… and then she stopped directly in front of Shu Yao.
Shu Yao lifted his eyes.
He shouldn't have.
Her voice—her cursed, practiced, too-familiar voice—fell softly:
"Good to see you, Mr. Shu Yao."
Qing Yue's voice.
That tone.
That gentle cadence.
That subtle sweetness.
He didn't know this woman.
But her existence alone shattered him.
His fingers tightened against his sleeve, trying to anchor himself.
His throat burned.
His palms dampened.
She stepped closer, smiling wider—too wide.
Then, deliberately, she placed her hand on his shoulder.
Her touch was warm.
Her perfume floral.
Her expression tender.
"Why are you shaking, Mr. Shu?" she asked, tilting her head with perfect imitation.
Shu Yao stumbled a half-step back.
"I—I'm sorry," he whispered. "Excuse me."
He lowered his gaze, almost bowing in apology, and turned away.
"Shu Yao—" George started.
But Shu Yao was already gone.
He passed through the doorway, breath shallow, mind a mess of dark past and fear. The hallway felt too bright, too sharp. Reality felt thin, tearing around him. He didn't look back.
He fled the boardroom like a man escaping a collapsing world.
Inside, the silence he left behind was thunderous.
Ming Su blinked once, theatrically puzzled.
"Why did he run away just like that?" she asked Shen Haoxuan, feigning concern.
Shen lifted one shoulder casually.
"Who knows? Mr. George mentioned he wasn't feeling well today."
Ming Su pressed a hand to her lips.
"Oh… poor little thing. He really should take better care of himself."
Armin's jaw tensed at her tone.
Disgust flickered across his face, sharp and unmistakable.
But he said nothing.
Shen's smirk grew crueler.
He slowly turned toward Bai Qi.
"So, Mr. Bai…"
Bai Qi snapped back to the present, breathing unevenly. He had forgotten the documents, the accusations, the betrayal—everything except the impossible woman standing across the room.
His pulse pounded painfully in his ears. His lungs felt too tight, as if someone had closed a hand around them.
"what?" Bai Qi said, voice strained.
Shen gestured gracefully toward Ming Su.
"The rest of the discussion will be handled by her."
Ming Su stepped forward, extending her hand politely. Her smile like —Qing Yue's smile—glowed softly.
"Good to see you, Mr. Bai."
Bai Qi hesitated for a heartbeat, eyes widening.
Then he forced himself to raise his hand and shake hers.
"Good… to see you," he managed.
But inside, he was spiraling.
Because this woman—this fabricated ghost—had Qing Yue's eyes. Qing Yue's warmth. Qing Yue's movements.
Qing Yue's everything.
It felt like someone had reached into his chest and twisted.
Ming Su's fingers lingered ever so slightly as they released his hand—a quiet reminder that she was here to invade, unsettle, disarm.
Bai Qi recoiled inwardly, though his face remained stiff, trembling with control.
On the far side of the room, Armin watched, eyes narrowing shrewdly.
He didn't understand everything—not yet—but one truth was obvious:
This girl…
This woman…
She looked exactly like Bai Qi's fiancée.
George saw it too.
His brows pulled together, confusion and unease tightening around his expression. He had no time to process it—Shu Yao was missing.
Without waiting for permission, George turn away from the scene.
He didn't speak, didn't bow—didn't even glance at Shen.
He left the boardroom in hurried strides, searching for Shu Yao.
Shu Yao's heartbeat had sounded wrong when he left the room. Too fast. Too thin. Too fragile.
George felt dread unfurl.
He turned the corner—empty.
Another corner—still no Shu Yao.
He sped up.
"Shu Yao—!" he called under his breath.
Meanwhile, inside the boardroom, the psychological execution continued in silence.
Bai Qi stared at her —at her impossible resemblance—and felt a coldness spread through him.
Shen Haoxuan observed him with quiet satisfaction.
Breaking a man's heart was always more efficient than breaking his bones.
And Bai Qi—once untouchable, once unstoppable—had finally shown the flaw in his armor.
Meanwhile outside the boardroom, Shu Yao folded himself into the narrow corner like a child hiding from a storm.
His knees were drawn tight against his chest, his forehead buried into the crook of his arms. He couldn't breathe right. Couldn't think right.
Everything inside the boardroom had clawed at him until the last bit of strength slipped from his fingers.
Too much.
Too much for a fragile soul.
Too much for a boy already cracking at the seams.
Shen Haoxuan's smirk still lived behind his eyelids—the same smirk from that night, the night he took what wasn't his to take, the night he tore Shu Yao's pride apart stitch by stitch. Shu Yao could still feel the cold hands, the breath, the shame.
And Qing Yue…
His breath hitched again.
His sister. His light. His safe place in a world full of teeth.
Gone—killed.
And now a woman walked into the boardroom with her smile, her eyes, her posture… everything molded into Qing Yue's likeness.
It shattered him.
He pressed his palms hard over his face, but that did nothing to stop the trembling.
He couldn't go back.
He couldn't walk into that room with Bai Qi sitting there.
He couldn't face those eyes—those sharp, unreadable eyes—because Bai Qi would look at him and see a liar. A thief. A problem.
And the worst part?
A part of him believed it.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Shu Yao jolted, instinctive fear flaring through him. He scrubbed at his cheeks, forcing himself upright just as George found him tucked into the corner.
George stopped dead.
"Shu Yao?" His voice dropped as he knelt down. "Hey. Look at me."
Shu Yao tried to swallow the sob that clawed its way up. It escaped anyway.
"I… I'm sorry, Mr. George," he whispered, wiping at the remnants of tears like he could erase the evidence. "I left. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologizing?" George's brows drew together. "You didn't do anything wrong."
Shu Yao stared at the floor. "But Bai Qi won't believe me."
"He will Believe you trust me, shu Yao he will."
Shu Yao shook his head and buried his face again. "Everything. The file. The betrayal. He'll think I—" His voice broke. He clenched his fingers until they hurt. "He'll think I betray him."
George exhaled slowly, trying to reel in his own rising anger. "We'll explain it once the meeting ends. Bai Qi wouldn't be unreasonable."
"It's pointless…" Shu Yao whispered. "He won't listen."
George felt something shift in the pit of his stomach—something cold, something furious.
"Shu Yao," George whispered, low and steady, "tell me… that man—the one our company rival Shen Haoxuan—is he the one?"
Shu Yao froze.
The name alone was a blade through his chest. Memories flickered, jagged and relentless. The pride he had barely rebuilt, ripped apart. The nights he spent shaking, haunted by the things Shen had done.
Shu Yao's lips parted, words failing him. His throat tightened.
George's voice sharpened, careful but unyielding. "Shu Yao… look at me. Was it him? Shen Haoxuan?"
Shu Yao's gaze lifted, slow, trembling. Red-rimmed eyes met George's. Pain and fear swirled in them like a storm.
He nodded.
Just once.
A single, deadly acknowledgment.
George's chest tightened, hands balling into fists at his sides. Fury surged, molten and silent, beneath the calm surface.
who tore everything from you… who humiliated you… who thought he could control you. It was Shen."
Shu Yao's body froze, each breath shallow. He hadn't spoken the words, hadn't admitted them aloud, and now saying nothing wasn't enough—George knew. He knew the truth.
George's fists shook slightly, controlled only by the edge of sheer will. "That bastard…" he whispered, teeth clenched. "He's going to pay for this. I swear it. He—"
"No, Mr. George," Shu Yao interrupted, voice cracking, "you… you can't. If you confront him… he'll expose everything. He'll… he'll twist what he did… and Bai Qi… Bai Qi will never look at me the same."
George's jaw tightened. Rage warred with restraint. The weight of knowing the truth, yet being powerless to act without endangering Shu Yao, pressed down like iron.
He took a slow breath. "Shu Yao… I can't just sit by. That man—Shen Haoxuan—he thinks he can break you. But he will not. Not on my watch."
Shu Yao shook, curling inward. "If he… if he speaks, it won't just be me. Bai Qi… he'll think… he'll think…" His voice broke entirely, the fear raw and trembling.
George crouched slightly, placing a firm hand near Shu Yao's shoulder without touching. "Shu Yao… listen. I understand. I know exactly who he is. And I will protect you. Whatever happens in that boardroom, whatever he tries… I won't let him win.
Shu Yao blinked rapidly, trying to swallow back the sobs. He lowered his gaze, hands gripping his knees. "I… I'm sorry, Mr. George. I… I couldn't stop him… I couldn't—"
"Stop apologizing," George cut in, his voice rough with controlled anger. "You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't. That man… he's the problem.
A fragile silence settled. Shu Yao's breaths were ragged. George's fists relaxed only slightly, but the tension remained, coiled and deadly.
Shu Yao looked up again, eyes haunted. "But… if I speak… if anyone knows what he did… Bai Qi… he'll…"
George's teeth clenched. Fury rose again, hot and sharp. "That bastard… Shen Haoxuan… how could you—how could he—do this to you and walk away?"
If he told Bai Qi the truth, Shu Yao might break into pieces too small to gather.
If he didn't say anything, Shen Haoxuan would keep tightening his claws until Shu Yao shattered anyway.
Both paths led to destruction.
George sat back on his heels, gripping his forehead. For the first time in years, he didn't have an immediate solution. Everything he could do would either expose Shu Yao or endanger him. Every decision would either drag him into more pain or leave him trapped under Shen Haoxuan's boot.
He looked at the boy huddled in front of him—small, shaken, trembling like he was bracing for another blow.
George's fists tightened until the knuckles whitened.
How?
How was he supposed to protect him when the truth itself was a weapon?
When silence was another?
Shu Yao's shoulders curled inward again, and he whispered, barely audible:
"I don't know what to do anymore."