Chapter 12 The Calm before the storm
Morning sunlight spilled through gauzy curtains, painting warm stripes across the pale walls.
Feng Xueling stirred awake, every muscle in her body heavy from the night before. She stretched lazily, spine arching, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her laptop still sat open on the desk, a faint blue glow marking the battlefield she'd conquered in the early hours — lines of code, tests, final compilations.
Ding.
The familiar notification tone snapped her eyes open fully. She blinked once, then reached for her phone. A new message from Helios Tech:
Payment Received — ¥820,000 deposited to account.
Her lips curved, the exhaustion melting from her face. Even bleary-eyed, her smile was luminous — the kind that made her eyes arc like crescent moons. "Ah… nothing wakes me up like the sight of money," she murmured, voice low and amused.
Within minutes, her fingers flew across her banking app. She transferred a large portion to Chairman Lin — her promised investment in Lingyun Capital — and noted the confirmation with quiet satisfaction.
Work done, she stretched again, luxuriating in the moment. Money earned through my own hands tastes the sweetest.
By the time she headed downstairs, the aroma of breakfast had filled the house — buttery toast, jasmine tea, and something fried. She paused at the landing when she heard laughter echoing from the dining hall.
It was a bright Saturday morning, and the Feng family was already assembled in the dining hall. Father and Mother sat side by side, smiling indulgently as Xueyao — radiant in soft yellow silk — scrolled through her tablet, her voice a gentle lilt that filled the room.
"Oh, that one looks perfect for the invitations," Mother Feng said approvingly. "Something elegant, modern, and tasteful. After all, this will be our princess's last birthday before college — it has to be memorable."
"Yes," Xueyao agreed sweetly, turning the screen toward her. "The ballroom at the Ocean Pearl Hotel has excellent lighting. I think we should book the entire west wing."
Father Feng chuckled. "Whatever you like, Yaoyao. We'll invite the school board, the Gu family, and a few of the local media channels. It'll be good exposure before the exam results — and the robotics expo. A story about your success will look good for the family."
At that moment, Xueling stepped into the room, her expression cool and unreadable.
There was a brief pause, but Father Feng carried on as though she weren't there."We should also announce your potential university choices. Gu Mocheng is an alumnus of Qinghua International, isn't he? Perhaps he can contact a few professors there."
Xueyao tilted her head, feigning modesty. "Oh, I wouldn't want to trouble Brother Gu. We should rely on our own strength to get into college… don't you think, Sister?" Her smile was saccharine, the hint of mockery glinting beneath.
Feng Xueling ignored her entirely. She crossed the room and took her seat at the far end of the table, silently pouring herself tea.
They thought she was a mediocre student with a mild talent for robotics — a harmless shadow beside the family's "true gem." They had no idea who she really was, or how much she had learned to conceal.
Her earliest memories rose unbidden — sharp and cruel, like shards of glass beneath her feet.
She had been a pretty child once — wide-eyed, black-haired, skin like porcelain, lips naturally red. Teachers adored her, classmates flocked to her. And that was the problem.
After her first day of kindergarten, Xueyao had come home screaming. Everyone wanted to play with Xueling; no one had spared her a glance. The tantrum had been epic — and Mrs. Feng, in her infinite maternal wisdom, had locked Xueling at home for a week as punishment.
When she returned to class, it was just in time for the monthly test, and she'd topped the score. Xueyao's second fit had been even worse. Mrs. Feng had locked her again — this time, a full month with one meager meal a day. That had however, not been enough for Xueyao. She had complained to Father Feng, accusing her of stealing the limelight and bullying her. On cue, Father Feng had brought out the family cane, striking her palms until they bled, commanding her to "reflect on being a bad sister."
That was the day the old Feng Xueling had vanished. The clever, bright-eyed girl had folded herself into silence and shadow.
From then on, she hid everything — her mind, her beauty, her spirit. She dusted her skin with dull gray powder to cloud her complexion, wore ill-fitting hand-me-downs, added thick spectacles to dim her gaze. She deliberately kept her grades low, always placing just above failure. She became invisible — only Xiaoman's stubborn friendship had slipped through her walls. And in her last life, she had to let go of even that.
Her sigh escaped before she could stop it.
The years of hiding had been long. Too long.
"What are you sighing for?" Mrs. Feng snapped, her sharp tone cutting through the air. "Being last in your grade is your own fault. You should aim for a university at your level!"
"Mom," Xueyao chimed in innocently, "where could Sister go with her grades?"
"Hmmph. That's right!" Mrs. Feng snorted. "Which decent university would even take her? She'll just embarrass the family. You'd better try hard in the entrance exam, Xueling. If your results are subpar, prepare to leave this house!"
She waited proudly, expecting Xueling to shrink, to stammer an apology as she always had.
Instead, Xueling calmly set down her teacup. The soft clink against porcelain was the only sound in the room. Then she lifted her head and met Mrs. Feng's gaze squarely, her voice calm and clear.
"All right," she said. "I'll leave the Feng family."
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then she rose from her chair, smooth and deliberate, and walked toward the doorway.
"Enough!" Father Feng's booming voice shattered the silence. "Leave the Feng family? What nonsense! Come back here right now — we'll talk about this later!"
"No, thank you," said Feng Xueling politely, without even turning around.
"FENG XUELING!" Father Feng roared.
She didn't stop. She picked up her backpack from the hall entrance, adjusted the strap over her shoulder, and stepped past the threshold without looking back.
Behind her came the sound of chaos — porcelain shattering, the crash of a table shoved in rage.
"You fool!" Father Feng bellowed. "Look what you've done!"
Feng Xueling kept walking, her face expressionless. But her brows furrowed slightly, a single thought cutting through her composure.
They don't want me to leave?
The question lingered like a strange, bitter aftertaste — one that would return soon enough, demanding answers.
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The morning air outside was crisp, the sky an endless blue washed clean by the sea breeze. Xueling walked without hurry, the weight of her backpack light against her shoulder. Each step away from the Feng residence loosened something inside her — a knot that had sat in her chest for years.
She didn't have a plan for breakfast. She hadn't expected one. But halfway down Maple Street, a familiar voice called out behind her.
"Xueling! Hey! You're up early!"
Jiang Xiaoman came jogging toward her, hair tied in a messy bun, her cheeks flushed from running. She wore an oversized sweatshirt that read Mathletes Do It Better in crooked letters.
Xueling's lips curved faintly. "Morning."
"Morning? It's practically lunchtime for you," Xiaoman teased. "Don't tell me you skipped breakfast again."
Xueling didn't answer, but her silence said enough.
"Hmph! The Fengs are bullying too much!!" Xiaoman hooked her arm through Xueling's. "Come on. Mom made scallion pancakes. You're not escaping."
Before Xueling could protest, she was already being tugged toward the cozy little apartment complex two streets away.
The Jiang home was small but sunlit, the air rich with the smell of food and the sound of someone humming in the kitchen.
Mrs. Jiang turned as the girls entered, her face lighting up. "Ah, Xueling! You're just in time. Sit, sit. You girls are all bones these days."
She set down a plate piled with golden pancakes, a bowl of congee fragrant with ginger, and a small dish of pickled radish.
"Thank you, Auntie," Xueling said softly, taking the seat Xiaoman pulled out for her.
"None of that polite nonsense," Mrs. Jiang said, waving her off with a smile. "Eat while it's hot."
Xueling picked up her chopsticks. The first bite was crisp and warm, the oil just enough to melt on her tongue. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd eaten something made with care.
Her chest tightened, the heat of the food spreading through her like sunlight after a long winter.
"You're spacing out again," Xiaoman said around a mouthful of pancake. "Don't tell me even breakfast makes you think about equations."
Xueling's eyes softened. "No," she said quietly. "Just thinking that this tastes better than any banquet I've ever had."
Mrs. Jiang laughed from the kitchen. "Then you'd better come more often. You girls study too hard; you'll wither away."
"I'll hold you to that," Xueling replied, her smile small but genuine.
For the first time that morning, she felt steady again — the anger, the noise, the emptiness of the Feng house fading like a bad dream. Here, in this tiny kitchen filled with laughter and warmth, she could almost believe that an ordinary, happy life was possible.
Almost.
Her phone buzzed softly beside her plate — a new message from an unknown sender.
The notification header read:
Encrypted Node — Origin: Unlisted Server
Her heart stilled. She hadn't connected to any public relay since she'd firewalled her systems the previous night.Only one kind of message came through that channel—dark-web correspondence.
She tapped it open.
[Black Wing Forum / Martial Net Underground]
Subject: Invitational — Jinhai CircleBody:Congratulations, User XL. Your performance metrics from closed-circuit footage have met entry standards.
Event: Jinhai Underground Martial Arts ChallengeTier: SilverPurse: ¥ 1,000,000 + sponsorship rightsTime: 22:00 hrs, next SaturdayVenue coordinates attached (encrypted).
Acceptance Window: 12 hours.
Note: Decline or no response will result in removal from registry.
Her pupils contracted slightly. So that was what the viral alley video had triggered—her movements had been analyzed, quantified, and ranked by underground martial-arts networks that scouted new fighters through dark-web surveillance algorithms.
She scrolled to the bottom of the message, where a faint signature flickered in the encryption trace:Node Origin: Dragon Gate Server Cluster — Beijing Ring
Dragon Gate. She knew the name. In her previous life, the Dragon Gate League had been an illegal fighting syndicate fronting as an elite martial-arts competition. They handled both sport and blood matches, depending on the stakes.
Her thumb hovered over the "Accept" command.One million yuan. Enough to buy freedom. Enough to fuel Lingyun Capital for a quarter.
A faint smile ghosted her lips.
"Everything okay?" Xiaoman asked, still chewing.
Mm." Xueling locked the screen, her expression composed. "Just work."