Second Branch Residence — Morning
The morning air was still carrying the faint coolness of dawn when Li Feng stepped back inside. His pulse was calm, his breathing even — the steady rhythm of someone who had already finished his daily Qigong routine in the courtyard.
He had, showered and changed into his neatly pressed school uniform — blazer crisp, tie straight, collar clean. The fabric settled against him like a second skin, its orderliness at odds with the quiet power running beneath his muscles.
The scent of breakfast guided him toward the dining room.
The sunlight had spilled fully across the table now — soft gold brushing over porcelain plates and a pot of jasmine tea steaming gently between them. Li Xue was already there, chin propped on one hand as she scrolled through notes on her tablet.
"Good timing," she said, glancing up. "Dad's making us eat together today. Says it's 'family bonding.'"
Li Feng arched a brow. "That's what breakfast usually is."
Before Xue could answer, Li Guohua appeared, sleeves rolled up and tie hanging loosely from one hand.
"Morning," he greeted, voice still carrying a faint trace of sleep. "I see the prodigies are awake."
Feng gave a short nod. "Morning."
"Morning, Dad," Xue echoed with a smile.
Guohua took his seat and poured tea for himself, then for both children. He studied them for a quiet moment — two teenagers sitting across from him, both far more composed than their age should allow. The thought made him half proud, half exasperated.
"So," he said finally, "midterms are about two weeks away."
That drew the expected reactions.
Xue tensed.
Feng blinked once, serene as ever.
Guohua focused on his son.
"You are preparing, right?"
Feng reached for the toast. "Yes."
His father narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Preparing how?"
"By studying."
Xue burst into a small laugh, hiding it behind her cup.
Guohua sighed dramatically. "I mean real studying. Not whatever you call that three-minute thing where you look at a page once and remember the whole textbook."
He wagged his chopsticks at Feng. "Even if you're a genius, you still have to show it on paper. Midterms don't reward 'potential.' They reward scores."
Xue nodded solemnly. "Exactly. Don't get lazy, gege. Teachers love proving geniuses wrong."
Feng gave her a flat look. "Noted."
"You promise?" she pressed.
He reached over and flicked her forehead. "Promise."
She yelped softly. "Unfair!"
Guohua chuckled, taking a sip of tea. "Good. Just make sure you both stay on track. After the expo, your teachers probably expect miracles."
Xue groaned. "They already do. Ms. Liu gave me extra problems yesterday because, quote, 'your brother set a higher standard.' How is that my fault?"
"It means," Feng murmured, "you should stop falling asleep during math."
"Traitor."
He hid a faint smile behind his cup.
Guohua shook his head, amused. "Alright, eat up. Once you're done, off to school. After midterms, maybe we'll all have a bit of peace."
Xue brightened instantly. "Really?"
"…Hopefully," Guohua corrected.
That single word made both siblings glance at him in silent dread.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"Dad," Xue said slowly, "you just jinxed it."
Guohua blinked. "I— fine, fine."
The three of them laughed softly, and for a brief moment the dining room felt lighter than it had in weeks.
Li Feng picked up his bag and stood first, glancing toward his father. "We'll head out."
Guohua nodded. "Go on. And remember—"
"I know," Feng said, slipping on his jacket. "Grades."
His father smiled faintly. "Exactly."
The siblings stepped out into the crisp morning air, the hum of the waiting car faint beyond the gate.
Behind them, sunlight caught on the edge of their cups — a still moment of warmth before the world began moving again.
---
Longhai No. 1 Highschool — Li Feng's Classroom
The morning sunlight slanted through the classroom windows as students filtered in, half-awake and already complaining about the looming midterms. Li Feng took his seat by the window, placing his bag neatly beside him.
A few classmates glanced his way — nothing new. Ever since the Expo, Feng had become a quiet presence people watched without knowing why.
Their homeroom teacher clapped her hands once, sharply.
"Everyone, listen up. Midterm exams are in exactly two weeks. That means no relaxing, no slacking, and definitely no hoping the questions will 'somehow be easy.'"
Groans rippled across the classroom.
The teacher's stern gaze swept the room, then paused — just a little too long — on Feng.
"And even if you think you're naturally gifted," she added pointedly, "that is absolutely not an excuse to neglect review."
Several students turned to look at Feng.
He blinked.
The corner of his mouth twitched — not quite a smile.
Xue, walking past the doorway on her way to her class after running an errand, covered her mouth to hide hers.
---
Halfway through the lesson, when the teacher was explaining something about ionic bonds, Feng's smartwatch gave a tiny pulse against his wrist.
Vmmm… tick.
A notification.
He lowered his hand casually, tilting the screen just enough for his eyes.
Arachne had pushed a report:
[Arachne Notification — Li Web Phase 2
Source: Network Surveillance Node (Tier 2)
Flagged Activity: Priority Level C
Item: Outgoing inquiry from Li Han to Zhao Conglomerate
Topic: Silent Hands – request for meeting]
Li Feng's pen paused mid-stroke.
Li Han reaching out to the Zhao family… now?
And without approval from the patriarch?
Messy. Predictable. But messy.
Feng didn't react outwardly.
He dismissed the notification with a tap and let his gaze drift — unhurried, inconspicuous — across the classroom.
It stopped on Zhao Kai.
Two rows ahead, Zhao Kai was hunched over his textbook, chewing the end of his pen like it had personally wronged him.
No tension.
No furtive glances.
No signs of someone caught in the gears of a powerful family's schemes.
Just Zhao Kai being Zhao Kai.
Feng watched him for a moment, expression flat.
'…This guy would probably get dragged into things without even realizing.'
He exhaled quietly and went back to taking notes.
"Ahem — Li Feng?" the teacher called.
He raised his head.
"What is the answer for question five?"
He stood, recited the entire multi-step solution flawlessly, sat down again without missing a beat.
The teacher blinked slowly, then nodded.
"…Correct."
Li Feng tapped his smartwatch once — a silent instruction for Arachne:
Monitor only. Do not interfere.
The watch vibrated once in acknowledgment.
Then the classroom returned to normal — or rather, everyone else returned to normal.
Li Feng continued writing, pen gliding over paper with calm precision…
…but a new thread of preparation had quietly opened in the back of his mind.
Silence followed.
And that silence meant motion.
---
Lunch Break — School Cafeteria
The cafeteria was its usual midday chaos — voices overlapping, trays clattering, chairs scraping across the floor with zero regard for human ears.
Li Feng and Li Xue sat at their usual spot by the window, eating quietly.
Or rather: they tried to.
Because ever since the expo, Feng's lunches had become…
events.
The first student approached before Feng had taken his third bite.
"Li Feng, sorry — can I ask something quick? My physics assignment—"
He didn't even finish the sentence.
Feng glanced at the worksheet, tapped the table twice, and said, "Your formula's missing a negative sign. Fix that and the rest aligns."
The student blinked.
Looked down.
Realized he was right.
"Oh—! Thanks!"
He scampered off.
Xue's shoulders shook with a small laugh. "Gege, you've become the walking answer key."
Feng speared a piece of chicken with deliberate calm.
"It's not my fault they keep bringing me homework during lunch."
His sister grinned. "You could say no."
He didn't respond.
They both knew he wouldn't.
Before he could take another bite—
A short girl rushed over with her tablet.
"Senior Feng, I think someone hacked my—"
"No," Feng said, barely looking. "Your brother changed your password as a prank."
Her face froze.
"…He did smile weirdly this morning."
Feng didn't comment.
Another student was panicking over an electronic design homework error. Feng copied the circuit block into his mind, spotted the voltage-regulation mismatch instantly, and corrected it with one sentence that sounded simple only because his brain was operating on level-2 logic.
"It'll run now."
The boy nearly teared up.
"T-thank you, Feng! Seriously—thank you!"
Another student's issue was a collapsed math model. Feng glanced once at the messy equation, crossed out two wrong assumptions, rewrote the pivot variable, and slid the notebook back in under fifteen seconds.
The girl blinked.
"How did you—"
"You wrote the first line correctly," Feng said, already turning to the next person. "You lost confidence halfway."
The girl nodded slowly.
Li Xue covered her mouth to hide her giggles.
"You're like a help desk with superpowers."
"Xue."
"What? It's true."
But not everyone was amused.
Behind them, at a table of students who definitely weren't fans, whispers drifted like insects.
"I'm telling you, he's faking it."
"Obviously. Silent Hands wasn't even his work — it was the Li Family. Everyone knows that now."
"Yeah, the Fourth Branch released all those PR statements… 'collective youth innovation', 'guided by Li Group resources'… he's just the face they used."
"Look at him. Acting like some genius just because he can fix a couple gadgets."
Feng didn't turn.
Didn't react.
He didn't need to.
Xue did, though.
Her chopsticks paused mid-air, her brows tightening for a second.
She looked at her brother.
He was calm.
Unbothered.
As if the words were dust passing on the breeze.
But Xue's lips pressed into a faint pout.
"Gege… they shouldn't be saying that."
Feng finally set down his chopsticks.
"It doesn't matter."
"But—"
He tapped her forehead gently with a finger.
"Xue. If a lie can affect you, it's because you haven't grown past it yet."
She blinked.
Then slowly nodded.
"…Okay."
Lunch continued peacefully after that.
Until—
PING.
A subtle vibration brushed against Feng's wrist.
His smartwatch screen lit up with a discreet notification banner:
[New Message — Wen Yuning]
Feng raised a brow.
Xue blinked, curious.
"You got a text?"
He tapped the screen.
[Wen Yuning:
Li Feng, I received your last update. Let's schedule our meeting for the week after midterms.
—W.Y.]
Feng lowered his wrist, exhaling softly.
Xue nudged him playfully, unaware of the content of the message.
"Ge, what did they say?"
Feng tapped her plate lightly with his chopsticks.
"Eat. You have math after this."
She groaned dramatically.
---
Night — Li Estate
Night draped itself over Longhai City — the kind of stillness that only came after weeks of chaos.
Inside the Li Estate, the main office lights still burned.
Li Zhonghai sat behind his desk, a fountain pen idle between his fingers, untouched reports spread before him like fallen leaves.
The old clock on the wall ticked methodically, a patient reminder of time slipping past.
He had just finished his last call with the Third Branch—compliance reports, partial resolutions, projections.
The Ministry's attention was finally shifting away.
The pressure on the Fourth Branch was easing; their PR teams were regaining footing.
And First Branch had managed to cover the trail of their "data anomalies" under a new logistics restructure.
It was… settling.
He leaned back slightly, gaze narrowing toward the dim reflection of the city through his window.
Three weeks.
Three weeks since the dinner.
Three weeks since that boy spoke.
He hadn't found a single thread.
Not one conclusive lead pointing to the root of the simultaneous issues across the Li Group.
No trace.
No digital fingerprints.
No audit trail.
No intercepted communications.
And still, when he closed his eyes, he saw it:
Li Feng's calm eyes, the stillness in his posture, the tone of someone certain.
Certain of the outcome.
Certain of the chaos that followed.
That was not confidence born of luck.
It was knowledge.
Zhonghai exhaled slowly, setting the pen down with care.
That boy is not ordinary.
And ordinary or not, he was still family.
Which made him both asset and potential threat.
His gaze shifted toward the portrait on the far wall — his late wife's eyes caught in painted calm.
"…If you were here," he muttered quietly, "you'd probably say I'm overthinking again."
But even as he said it, his expression didn't soften.
He turned back to his terminal and opened a secure channel.
His message was brief — cold and absolute.
[To: All Branch Heads
Subject: Current Progress Review
All ongoing issues are to be resolved within the next two weeks.
The branch that demonstrates the slowest progress will transfer 3% of their held shares to the branch that completes its recovery first.
— L.Z.]
He read it once more before sending.
The rule was simple. Brutal. Effective.
He leaned back, watching the message confirm delivery.
Two weeks.
That was the timeline.
After that, the family would have stabilized.
And once everything was calm again…
then he would revisit the Second Branch.
---
Hello, Author here,
Thanks for reading — Leave a comment to tell me what you think about this chapter, and drop a Power Stone if you're enjoying Li Feng's story so far! Let's grow this story together.