The rain finally stopped at dawn.The streets of Haicheng shimmered with reflections of broken neon lights, as if the whole city had been crying all night.
Lu Cheng stood outside the café, lighting a cigarette.The smoke curled upward, vanishing into the first pale sunlight of the morning.
Behind him, Qiao Xinyi stepped out, her trench coat buttoned tight."You still smoke?" she asked.
Lu Cheng exhaled slowly. "Only when I'm planning something dangerous."
"Then you must be planning a lot," she muttered.
He smiled faintly. "Always."
They walked down the quiet street. The city was waking up—vendors shouting, buses screeching, office workers hurrying—but around them, it felt like time had slowed down.
"Tell me what you know," she said finally.
Lu Cheng handed her a flash drive. "Everything in there leads back to Chen Group, and beyond that—Minister Zhou's office."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're saying the corruption case that took you down was political?"
"Political, financial, and personal." His tone hardened. "Chen Shaohui's father wasn't just a businessman. He was Zhou's hidden partner. They used me to clean up their dirty deals, then buried me when things went bad."
Qiao Xinyi clenched her jaw. "And the murder?"
Lu Cheng's gaze darkened. "Your partner, Li Wen, was investigating a missing funds trail. He found evidence linking Chen Group to an offshore account. They silenced him before he could leak it."
She froze.For five years, she had believed it was a random mugging. A robbery gone wrong.
Now, the truth hit her like a thunderclap.
"Then why me?" she asked quietly. "Why bring me into this again?"
"Because you were the only honest one back then," Lu Cheng said. "And because I need someone who still remembers what justice used to mean."
For a long moment, they just stood there, listening to the hum of the city.
Then Qiao Xinyi reached out her hand."Fine," she said. "I'll help you. But we do this my way—clean, precise, legal if possible."
Lu Cheng took her hand, his grip firm."If possible," he repeated with a knowing smile.
That night, they met in an abandoned warehouse by the docks.
A laptop flickered on the table, blue light reflecting off Lu Cheng's sharp features. On the screen were dozens of encrypted files.
"These," he said, "are Chen Group's ghost accounts. Offshore holdings, fake subsidiaries, shell companies. All connected to Zhou's office."
Qiao Xinyi sat beside him, scrolling through the data."This is enough to destroy them in court," she said, astonished.
Lu Cheng leaned back. "It's enough to start a war."
Suddenly, the door creaked open.
A man in a leather jacket stepped in—tall, muscular, with eyes like steel.
"Boss," he said. "We've got trouble. Someone's been following you since the café."
Lu Cheng's expression didn't change."How many?"
"Two cars. No plates."
He stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and pulled on his coat."Then it's time they learned the city doesn't belong to them anymore."