The day after Shen Wan’er was driven out of the Shen family’s main residence, Shen Group’s emergency board meeting went ahead as scheduled.
The meeting was held on the top floor of the company’s headquarters.
Shen Nian hadn’t planned to attend.
But early that morning, Shen Yanzhou parked his car outside the Shen family estate.
“Get in.”
Standing on the front steps with the old photograph she’d just unearthed in her hand, Shen Nian looked up at him.
“What does the Shen Group board meeting have to do with me?”
“Yunqi Harbor is a complete mess right now. Lu Capital is coming today to sign the letter of intent.” His tone remained as cold as ever. “Since you already intervened in the company’s systems yesterday, stop pretending this has nothing to do with you.”
It wasn’t exactly a pleasant way of putting it.
But it was, in its own way, an acknowledgment that she had earned the right to be part of this game.
Shen Nian tucked the photo away and got into the car.
On the way, Shen Yanzhou glanced at the document envelope in her hands.
“Did you figure anything out from that photo?”
“It was taken in the hospital corridor, three days before Su Lan disappeared,” Shen Nian replied calmly. “There’s a man in the picture.”
“You know him?”
“No.” She paused. “But I think your father does.”
Shen Yanzhou’s grip on the steering wheel tightened almost imperceptibly.
He asked nothing more.
By the time they reached the conference room, most of the attendees had already arrived.
Several directors sat around the long conference table, each wearing a different expression.
The Shen family had been rocked by one crisis after another—Old Madam Shen’s poisoning, the archive room fire, the cyberattack on the company’s systems. The outside world hadn’t seen much yet, but word had already spread throughout the business circle.
Everyone was waiting to see whether the Shen family could steady itself.
Many were also waiting to see whether the newly returned biological daughter would become another problem—or the one to clean up the mess.
The moment Shen Nian walked into the room, silence fell for two seconds.
Someone recognized her.
The events of last night’s family banquet and yesterday’s cyberattack had been suppressed, but rumors always found a way to leak.
“Why is she here?”
“That’s the real Shen daughter?”
“I heard she’s the one who stabilized the company’s system yesterday…”
The whispers were soft, but constant.
Ignoring them, Shen Nian took a seat by the window.
A few moments later, the conference room doors opened again.
A group of people entered.
Leading them was a tall man in a black suit.
His posture was straight, his features sharp and composed. The moment he walked in, the atmosphere in the room seemed to grow noticeably heavier.
Without wasting a glance, he surveyed the room before his eyes settled on the seat at the head of the table.
Lu Chengyan.
The man currently in charge of Lu Capital.
Though Shen Nian had never met him in person, she knew the name well.
Over the past two years, Lu Capital had earned a reputation for making calculated, ruthless investments, securing one major project after another with uncanny precision.
Lu Chengyan was not someone to underestimate.
And now, he was looking at her.
The glance lasted only a second.
Brief.
Steady.
As though he’d recognized something—or was simply assessing her.
“Mr. Lu, thank you for waiting.”
Shen Chongshan rose to shake his hand.
Lu Chengyan gave a slight nod.
Yet before taking his seat, his eyes drifted toward Shen Nian once more.
It was the sort of gaze that was impossible to ignore.
Once the meeting began, the directors took turns speaking.
Their message, despite different wording, was the same.
Yunqi Harbor had become too risky.
With the Shen family already overwhelmed by internal crises, they should relinquish part of their controlling stake and allow Lu Capital to step in and stabilize the project.
One director put it bluntly.
“Chairman Shen, stability is the priority now. If the project collapses, none of us benefit.”
Another added pointedly,
“The Shen family has had quite a few personal issues lately. I’m afraid you won’t have the capacity to oversee such a large project.”
Shen Chongshan’s face remained grim.
Shen Yanzhou fought back through several rounds of discussion, refusing to give ground.
But it was obvious the opposing side had come fully prepared.
Throughout the meeting, Lu Chengyan spoke very little.
Yet every time he did, it was at a crucial moment.
Each sentence carried weight.
Then one director suddenly smiled at Shen Nian.
“I’ve heard Miss Shen is quite capable. Perhaps you’d like to share your thoughts on Yunqi Harbor?”
It was clearly meant to embarrass her.
Nearly everyone turned to look.
Shen Nian set down the documents in her hand and raised her eyes.
“I do.”
The director hadn’t expected her to answer.
He blinked.
“Then please enlighten us.”
Shen Nian tossed a file onto the table.
“The problem with Yunqi Harbor isn’t the project itself.”
“It’s the safety assessment and cost audit that were switched out three months ago.”
The room instantly changed.
Several expressions shifted.
Most notably, the project manager sitting near the end of the table froze, his pen stopping midair.
Shen Nian continued.
“You’re using project risk as an excuse to drive down the price because you know the Shen family is in turmoil.”
“You think this is the perfect opportunity to take advantage.”
The moment those words landed, two people visibly paled.
The project manager.
And the director who had been pushing hardest for Shen Group to surrender its shares.
“Miss Shen, that’s quite an accusation.”
“If I didn’t speak bluntly,” she replied coolly, “how would I wake people pretending to be asleep?”
The director’s expression darkened.
“Do you have proof?”
“I wouldn’t have spoken if I didn’t.”
She withdrew another document from her folder and slid it across the table.
“This is a comparison between last month’s original audit draft and the version released publicly.”
“Three pages of critical data were removed.”
“Conveniently enough, they transformed a safety issue that had already been resolved into an ongoing project risk.”
She produced a second document.
“And your so-called funding risk?”
“It was deliberately exaggerated by twenty percent.”
“If Lu Capital genuinely wants to negotiate, then negotiate with the real books.”
“Not with numbers someone conveniently edited to scare everyone.”
Silence.
Shen Yanzhou whipped around to stare at her.
He hadn’t imagined she’d uncovered even this.
The project manager had already begun sweating.
“That’s impossible…”
“Impossible?”
Shen Nian lifted her gaze.
“Would you like me to project the draft folder from your email onto the screen?”
“So everyone can see exactly who modified those files in the middle of the night?”
The man’s face drained of all color.
Now everyone understood.
Someone had intended to use the Shen family’s internal crisis to cripple the project—
then buy into it cheaply.
Across the table, Lu Chengyan remained silent.
But when Shen Nian laid the original audit documents on the table, a faint glimmer finally appeared in his eyes.
It wasn’t surprise.
It was confirmation.
By the second half of the meeting, the tide had completely turned.
At last, Lu Chengyan spoke.
“Lu Capital’s condition for cooperation is simple.”
“The foundation of the project must be sound.”
His gaze swept across the room before resting on the original audit report.
“It appears the problem lies with the people.”
“Not the project.”
With that single sentence, he’d effectively chosen a side.
The directors who had hoped to force down the valuation looked thoroughly displeased.
None of them, however, dared object openly anymore.
After the meeting, people filed out one after another.
The hallway outside was far quieter than before.
Everyone had realized that the biggest variable today hadn’t been Lu Chengyan.
Nor had it been Yunqi Harbor itself.
It had been Shen Nian.
She had just stepped out of the conference room when footsteps approached behind her.
“Miss Shen.”
She turned around.
Lu Chengyan stood two steps away.
His assistant had tactfully stayed behind.
“The audit report,” he said evenly.
“You didn’t uncover that overnight, did you?”
“What are you trying to say, Mr. Lu?”
“I’m saying…”
“You don’t seem like someone who just returned to the Shen family.”
Shen Nian smiled faintly.
“Likewise.”
“You don’t look like someone here merely to discuss a partnership.”
“You look more like you’re inspecting merchandise.”
The remark wasn’t polite.
Yet instead of taking offense, the corner of Lu Chengyan’s mouth lifted ever so slightly.
“And what’s your verdict?”
He asked.
“My verdict?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him for a moment before answering calmly.
“Acceptable.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
It seemed no one had ever evaluated him that way before.
“Then let me return the favor.”
His gaze rested on her face for two seconds.
“Miss Shen…”
“You’re far more interesting than the rumors suggested.”
With that, he turned and left without another word.
Watching his retreating figure, Shen Nian didn’t relax.
This man was too composed.
Too steady.
He gave the impression of seeing everything—
while revealing almost nothing himself.
As she turned around, she found Shen Chongshan waiting at the far end of the corridor.
He had clearly been standing there for some time.
“Come with me.”
They entered the chairman’s office.
The door closed behind them.
Without wasting time, Shen Nian placed the old photograph on the desk.
“Do you know this man?”
Shen Chongshan had been about to speak.
The moment his eyes landed on the photo, his expression changed.
It happened too quickly for him to hide.
Shen Nian watched him closely.
“So you do know him.”
He remained silent for a long time before finally speaking in a hoarse voice.
“That’s Gu Chengshan.”
Although she’d already suspected as much, hearing the confirmation still made her chest tighten.
“So the last person Su Lan met three days before she disappeared was him.”
“Not necessarily the last.”
His voice was rough.
“But during that period… she was indeed investigating Gu Chengshan.”
“You knew?”
“I knew… part of it.”
“And then?”
She looked straight at him.
“Did you try to stop her?”
“Or did you help her?”
The question cut like a knife.
His jaw tightened.
After a long silence, he finally answered,
“At the time… I didn’t think it was that serious.”
Shen Nian laughed.
“You all love saying that.”
“You didn’t think it was that serious, so you never investigated to the end.”
“You thought you could keep it under control, so you buried the truth.”
“You believed that if you waited long enough, everything would simply disappear.”
With each sentence, Shen Chongshan’s expression darkened further.
At last, Shen Nian took back the photograph.
“Unfortunately…”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
He looked at her, seemingly wanting to explain himself.
But in the end, nothing came out.
Any explanation now would only sound like an excuse.
The office fell silent.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the gray-blue skyline reflected across Shen Group’s glass tower.
Employees walked back and forth outside after the meeting, yet not a single sound penetrated the office.
It perfectly mirrored the Shen family’s greatest talent over the years.
From the outside, they had always appeared impeccable.
Inside…
They had been rotten for a long time.
She turned to leave.
Suddenly, Shen Chongshan spoke again.
“Before your mother disappeared…”
“She left behind a photo album.”
Shen Nian stopped.
“Where is it?”
“On the third floor of the old estate.”
“In the art studio she used.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“No one has touched that room all these years.”
It was the first time he had voluntarily offered her a clue.
But it had come far too late.
Without looking back, Shen Nian simply said,
“I’ll go tonight.”
By the time she stepped out of the office, dusk had settled outside.
Her phone vibrated.
A text message from an unknown number.
Don’t go to the art studio. Someone’s waiting for you inside.
Shen Nian stared at the message for several seconds.
Then she smiled.
The more desperate they were to stop her…
the more certain she became that the studio contained exactly what she needed.
Now she had no choice but to go.
The elevator doors had barely closed when Shen Yanzhou caught up and pressed the open button.
His expression was grim.
“That thing Shen Wan’er said before she left the estate…”
“You’re investigating it too, aren’t you?”
“You’re asking too late.”
Standing inside the elevator, Shen Nian looked at him.
“The moment she said those words, this stopped being just another Shen family matter.”
His face tightened.
“You suspect Dad?”
“It’s not suspicion.”
She answered evenly.
“Every lead keeps circling back to him.”
“The only question now is how deeply he’s involved.”
The elevator descended slowly.
The cramped space was unnervingly quiet.
After a long pause, Shen Yanzhou spoke.
“I always thought…”
“No matter how messy things got at home…”
“They’d never involve life and death.”
“And now?”
“You finally understand?”
“Not too late.”
She studied him briefly before handing him the old photograph.
“If you can’t recognize the face…”
“Recognize the watch.”
The man in the picture showed only half his profile.
But the watch on his wrist stood out.
An old mechanical watch.
There was a tiny scratch on the bezel—a mark left by someone who had worn it for years.
Shen Yanzhou stared at it for several moments.
His expression changed.
“I’ve seen this watch before.”
“Who wore it?”
“Not Dad.”
His voice dropped.
“Gu Chengshan.”
Shen Nian’s eyes darkened.
That completed the final missing piece.
She had been one confirmation short.
Now she had it.
“Anything else?”
She asked.
After another brief silence, Shen Yanzhou took a folded sheet of paper from inside his jacket and handed it to her.
“The secretary’s office found this before the meeting.”
“Someone from the project department was about to shred it.”
“They thought something was off and gave it to me instead.”
Shen Nian unfolded it.
It was half of a page, scorched by fire and then flattened.
The header had burned away.
Only one line remained legible.
Please continue to leave the art studio key in Aunt Zhou’s care.
The date beneath it was three days after Su Lan disappeared.
Aunt Zhou.
Zhou Guifen.
The document had surfaced at too perfect a moment.
Almost as though someone had tried desperately to destroy it—
and failed to erase every trace.
“You still think your father knew nothing?”
Shen Nian asked.
Shen Yanzhou didn’t answer.
His expression already spoke for him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand.
He simply hadn’t been willing to imagine the worst.
“If you’re going to the studio tonight,” he said suddenly, “I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
She tucked the paper away.
“If too many people show up, whoever’s waiting inside may never reveal themselves.”
“At least take someone.”
“The people you should be watching are the project department and those directors.”
She met his eyes.
“They failed to get what they wanted today.”
“They won’t stay quiet tonight.”
“If you really want to help…”
“Make sure nothing happens to the company.”
The elevator reached the ground floor.
The doors slid open.
Shen Yanzhou remained where he was.
After two seconds, he called out softly,
“Shen Nian.”
“Hm?”
“If Dad really knew all along…”
He couldn’t finish the sentence.
The rest was too difficult to say.
But Shen Nian understood.
Looking out at the brightly lit lobby beyond the elevator, she answered in an even voice.
“Then no one gets to keep pretending anymore.”