Li Feng's Room
The workstation's cool glow softened the room, the quiet hum of fans settling into a steady rhythm — a new heartbeat for the space.
Li Xue sat at the edge of the bed, pillow hugged to her chest. She was still half-astonished by how completely the room had changed — brighter, sharper, upgraded into something that looked more like a private command station than a teenager's bedroom — but the shift in atmosphere between father and son pulled her attention away from the screens.
Li Guohua's gaze lingered on the workstation for only a second — impressed, yes — but his focus quickly returned to the envelope in Li Feng's hand.
"You've opened it?" he asked.
Li Feng nodded and handed it to him.
Guohua read the letter slowly, silently. His expression remained calm, but his eyes grew colder and sharper — weighing implications in silence, the way a man did when he saw the edges of a political storm forming.
When he finished, he folded the letter with deliberate care and handed it back.
Li Feng met his gaze.
"…What do you think?"
Guohua exhaled through his nose, resting one hand lightly against the desk.
"The Wen Research Institute doesn't contact individuals lightly," he said.
"And they certainly don't request private meetings unless the value is real."
He tapped the envelope once, a quiet emphasis.
"They've stated their intention plainly. They're not interested in Silent Hands itself. They're interested in your adaptive interpretation layer."
Li Feng gave a small nod.
"But the implications matter more than the wording," Guohua added.
He straightened, voice even and calm.
"You solved a problem they haven't solved yet. And not in a theoretical sense — but in a working, stable, real-time implementation. Low hardware demand, minimal latency, and high stability."
His gaze sharpened more visibly.
"That combination is rare… even for Capital-tier institutes."
Li Xue shifted slightly.
"…Dad," she said softly, "the Wen Institute is huge, isn't it? They work on everything… even military-adjacent projects..."
Guohua nodded.
"The Wen Research Institute focuses on long-scale, high-impact applied research. Infrastructure systems. Industrial automation. Communications. Medical AI. Human–machine interfaces. And yes — a few projects with military overlap."
He tapped the envelope again, this time thoughtfully.
"We can infer from this letter that your… method appears to align with one of their active bottlenecks."
Li Feng nodded, processing the details with steady, deliberate focus.
"Mm."
Guohua considered.
"Judging from their active research fields and seeing as their interest is in your adaptive interpretation layer, it's likely that they're facing a bottleneck in multi-signal interpretation — specifically, a pipeline that can stay stable despite heavy noise and overlapping input, something that can stay stable even in chaotic, multi-signal environments."
He paused.
"And your implementation in Silent Hands solves that far too neatly to ignore."
Li Xue lifted her head.
"…Like the adaptive command systems the conference mentioned last year?"
"That's one example," Guohua said.
"But it could just as easily be robotics. Emergency coordination AI. Even field-communication systems. Remember, the Wen Institute touches many fields."
A quiet heaviness settled.
"Meeting them is an opportunity," Guohua said. "But a risk too."
Li Feng didn't need that explained.
Guohua continued:
"However, they can be trusted somewhat. Their reputation is clean. They don't coerce. They follow protocol. They don't poach talent from under established families."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"But the Li Family… will not appreciate this."
Xue's fingers tightened on her pillow. She didn't speak, but she understood.
Li Feng nodded, voice remained steady: "No doubt about that."
Guohua finally looked him in the eye.
"So? Your decision?"
Li Feng thought briefly — only briefly.
"I'll meet them. On my terms. When I'm ready. It won't be long."
Guohua nodded once.
"Good," he said. "Still, stay cautious. Capital institutions operate under rules different from what we see here."
The room settled back into silence.
Not fearful.
Just thoughtful — the kind of silence that precedes a shift in the balance of power.
---
Night — Li Estate Conference Room
The Li Estate's conference room was wrapped in a tension so controlled it felt deliberate.
The branches arrived one by one.
Measured steps. Controlled breathing. Folders arranged with perfect symmetry.
No one knew why the Patriarch had moved the proposal deadline to tonight.
And because no one knew, everyone watched everyone else with twice the usual caution.
---
Li Guowei was the first to break the silence.
He tapped his pen once — light, precise — and directed a seemingly idle comment toward the Third Branch.
"Guotao," he said smoothly,
"You seem remarkably composed for such abrupt timing."
Li Guotao didn't lift his gaze right away.
"I could say the same," he replied evenly.
"First Branch is seldom caught unprepared."
A polite parry. Soft, but deliberate.
Guowei smiled thinly.
"We were simply informed to be ready."
A subtle bait — perfectly placed.
Li Guifen looked up from her tablet with a mild, polite expression.
"'Informed,' you say, not 'instructed.' Interesting choice of words, big brother."
Han Rui added lightly:
"So First Branch received a different message, then?"
Li Yichen's eyes tightened — just slightly.
"We all received the same directive," he said.
"Speculation helps no one."
Which, ironically, served as confirmation that Fourth Branch's poke landed exactly where it should.
Li Cheng leaned back slightly, his smile courteous but sharp.
"Then perhaps First Branch can enlighten us," he said softly.
"Why would the Patriarch suddenly move the review to tonight? You usually have… superior channels."
Guowei did not answer.
Which was answer enough.
Li Guotao's gaze sharpened by a fraction, studying him with careful neutrality.
The silence that followed was not empty.
It was searching.
---
Soon, subtle movements began:
Han Zhiyuan whispered something to Guifen who nodded without looking up.
Yichen's fingers rested over his file — completely still, which was not his usual state.
Li Cheng adjusted his tablet angle just enough to catch the room's reflection across its glossy surface.
Small gestures.
Deliberate probes.
Who was calm? Who was uneasy? Who knew something? Who pretended not to?
Nobody asked directly.
Nobody offered anything.
But every glance was a question.
And every silence was an answer.
---
Minutes later, a guard appeared silently at the door.
The signal.
The patriarch was about to enter.
Conversation faded — not abruptly, but smoothly, as though the room itself lowered its voice.
Folders straightened.
Screens dimmed.
Masks of neutrality slid into place.
Everyone shared the same sharpened thought:
Something forced this deadline forward —
and none of them knew what.
---
The double doors opened with a soft, controlled push.
Li Zhonghai entered.
He didn't radiate pressure.
He was the pressure — quiet, gravitational, inevitable.
Every spine straightened. Every gaze lowered. Every breath measured.
He walked to the head of the table, took his seat without greeting or acknowledgment.
Only when he was settled did the others sit.
Silence crystallized — perfect, absolute.
He placed a single hand atop the sealed agenda folder.
Then, without preamble:
"Present your proposals."
His voice carried no edge.
No anger.
No curiosity.
Just command.
---
First Branch
Li Guowei stood, posture measured.
"Our branch proposes structured integration through Li Group's Youth Innovation Division. Full oversight. Controlled development. Stabilization of assets to prevent external influence."
His tone was confident, controlled — polished.
Zhonghai did not react.
"Next."
---
Third Branch
Li Guotao stepped forward.
"Silent Hands meets criteria for early medical-device regulatory consideration. We propose oversight under our branch to ensure proper certification, safety compliance, and controlled access."
Regulatory capture.
A strong angle.
Zhonghai gave no sign of approval or disapproval.
"Next."
---
Fourth Branch
Guifen stepped up. Rui gave a small nod behind her.
"Our branch recommends controlling the public narrative. Silent Hands is gaining traction. Framing it early as a Li Group–supported youth initiative prevents external claims and stabilizes media impact."
Rui added softly:
"Set the narrative early, and all others will follow it."
Still no reaction.
---
When the final branch sat down, the room held its breath.
Li Zhonghai closed his eyes for a brief moment — thinking.
When he opened them, his gaze swept across the table like a blade.
"None of these proposals," he said quietly,
"are complete."
The words rippled through the air.
Not loud.
Not sharp.
But heavy enough to bend the atmosphere.
No one dared object. They all knew he was right.
Their proposals were directions, not solutions. Intentions, not plans.
Zhonghai continued:
"That is… acceptable."
The branches tensed almost imperceptibly.
Acceptable.
Not praise.
Not disapproval.
A test passed — barely.
He tapped one finger against the table.
"We proceed."
The quiet finality of the words lifted and sharpened the entire room.
The true decision — how the Li Family would move regarding Silent Hands and Li Feng — was coming next.
Zhonghai lifted the agenda folder.
The atmosphere tightened, every breath held.
The Patriarch was about to set the direction of the storm.
---
Hello, Author here,
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