The fallout from Strickland's downfall was immediate. In the insular world of high finance, the name Ye Xia was now spoken with a mixture of fear and fascination. The story of the young heiress who had not only defended against an attack from a seasoned hedge fund manager but had obliterated him was too juicy to ignore.
Back at school, the legend grew. Liang Rui looked at her now with outright fear. His own financial situation was becoming more desperate by the day. He had, as Ye Xia predicted, poured his last resources into buying a fake stake in his own company, waiting for the promised investment from "Prometheus" that would never come. He was ruined, and he knew it.
Lin Wanwan's family declared bankruptcy. The Lin empire was dust. She stopped coming to school altogether. The two architects of Ye Xia's first death had been effectively destroyed, their dreams turned to ash.
It should have felt more satisfying. But for Ye Xia, standing amidst the ruins of her enemies, the victory felt hollow. The petty revenge was complete, but the larger void remained. The mystery of her mother's death was still unsolved, and the threat of the Yun family loomed larger than ever.
It was at this moment of quiet anticlimax that the dragon finally spoke.
A formal letter arrived at her apartment, delivered by a courier in a pristine uniform. The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and bore a simple embossed symbol: a stylized mountain peak. The Yun family crest.
Inside, the letter was written in elegant, traditional Chinese calligraphy.
To Ye Xia,
It has come to our attention that you have come into your inheritance and have demonstrated a remarkable… aptitude for commerce. The head of the family, Patriarch Yun Zhi, acknowledges the strength of the blood that runs in your veins.
You are hereby summoned to the family estate in Singapore for a meeting. Your presence is requested to discuss your future place within the Yun family structure.
This is not an invitation to be declined.
We will await your arrival at the end of the month.
Signed,
Yun Zhong, on behalf of the Family Council
Ye Xia read the letter twice, her heart a cold stone in her chest. Yun Zhong. The second son. The one who viewed her as a threat. This was not a welcoming gesture; it was a summons to the lion's den. It was an attempt to co-opt her, to control her, or to eliminate her.
She showed the letter to Silas.
"It's a trap," he said immediately. "You can't go."
"If I don't go, I'm showing fear," Ye Xia replied. "They will interpret it as weakness and come for me with more force. This way, I meet them on my terms. I look them in the eye."
"It's too dangerous."
"My whole life is dangerous now, Silas." She looked out the window at the city. "This is the next level. The schoolyard battles are over. This is for the future of everything my mother left me."
She made her decision. She would go to Singapore.
But she would not go unprepared. She spent the next week in a frenzy of preparation. She used the system's funds to hire the best cultural coach she could find to tutor her in the intricate etiquette of ancient families like the Yun. She studied their known business holdings, their alliances, their rivals.
She also used the system's new, higher-level intelligence function—unlocked at Level 5, which she achieved by wasting millions on a futile attempt to fund a private space launch—to gather information on the key players: Yun Zhi, the aging patriarch; Yun Zhong, the ambitious second son; and Yun Ming, the first son, who was reportedly sickly and reclusive.
The intelligence was frustratingly vague on the family's inner workings, but it confirmed that Yun Zhong was the real power, and he saw her as a destabilizing element.
The night before her flight to Singapore, Mo visited her apartment. Silas let him in, his hand never far from his weapon.
Mo looked around the secure apartment, then at Ye Xia. "You've built a good fortress."
"It's not enough, is it?" she asked.
"No fortress ever is," he said. "The Singapore meeting. It's a pivotal moment."
"Do you have any advice?"
"Yun Zhong is a snake, but he respects strength. Do not appease him. Do not show weakness. The patriarch is old and sentimental. Appeal to his sense of legacy, of blood. It's your only advantage."
"Why are you helping me, Mo?" Ye Xia asked, the question that had haunted her for weeks finally spilling out. "What do you get from this?"
He was silent for a long time. "The world of these hidden families is stagnant. It is a pond that has not been disturbed in a century. You… you are a stone. The ripples you create are interesting to me. They create opportunities. And I dislike stagnation."
It was not an answer of affection or loyalty. It was an answer of pure, calculating interest. It was the only answer she believed.
"I see," she said.
"Survive Singapore, Ye Xia," he said, turning to leave. "And the real game can begin."
After he left, Ye Xia packed a single bag. She was not going to Singapore as a supplicant. She was going as a queen, an equal. She was going to claim what was hers.
The ugly heiress was gone. The reborn financier had proven her worth. Now, it was time for the lost daughter of the Yun family to face her destiny.