CHAPTER 95: CHAPTER 96 – EMBERS BENEATH THE SURFACE

The conference room at Yunteng Capital had gone quiet after Lin Feng ended the call with Chen Xian. The glow of the morning sun filtered in through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the glass table. In the silence, Lin Feng stood with his hands resting lightly on the back of a chair, eyes fixed ahead but mind running calculations at a thousand miles per hour.

Behind him, Xiao Zhi was already typing out a list of companies showing sudden interest in Yunteng’s recent clean energy portfolio. Since Spectron had been exposed, a void had formed in the eco-venture market, and vultures—or visionaries—were beginning to circle.

But Lin Feng wasn’t just watching the boardroom. He was watching the streets.

"We need to meet Liu Sheng from Tianbao Holdings," he said without looking back. "He’s quiet but hasn’t made a move since Zixuan’s campaign collapsed. That’s not peace—it’s planning."

Xiao Zhi nodded. "Already drafting the invite. Shall I make it casual?"

"No," Lin Feng said, finally turning. "Make it formal. Let him wonder if we know something."

Just then, a knock at the door. Mei Yuxia entered, dressed in a sharp crimson blazer that echoed her growing presence in Lin Feng’s operations. Her gaze flicked between the two men before settling on Lin Feng.

"There’s something you should see," she said. "It’s not just business anymore. People are starting to move on the university campus."

Lin Feng arched an eyebrow. "Student protests?"

"Something like that. But this isn’t random. Someone’s paying vloggers and student reps to stir things up about your background. They’re suggesting you got into business through corruption or privilege."

A flicker of irritation crossed Lin Feng’s expression. "They’re laying the groundwork for a public credibility collapse."

"And using younger demographics. Smart," Xiao Zhi added.

Lin Feng exhaled slowly. "Then we counter it with authenticity. We don’t fight smear with denial. We outwork them."

He picked up his phone and dialed.

"Get Chen Yuhan," he told his assistant. "I want a joint campus event—Yunteng, Huanyu Media, and Renhai Foundation. Scholarships, tech booths, green project competitions. Let them see who we really are."

Mei Yuxia smiled faintly. "A soft strike."

"No," Lin Feng said calmly. "It’s a hammer in silk."

Two hours later, Lin Feng stood before the mirror of a discreet private lounge near East City. His attire was more subdued than usual—a navy-blue casual suit, no tie. Beside him stood Liu Sheng, the enigmatic CEO of Tianbao Holdings. Liu was a tall, composed man in his early forties, expressionless but not unfriendly.

Their meeting had been arranged at a private art gallery under Tianbao’s sponsorship, a setting chosen to appear cultural and apolitical.

"I didn’t expect Yunteng to reach out so soon," Liu said as they walked through a corridor lined with contemporary sculptures. "You’re in the headlines nearly every day."

Lin Feng gave a mild chuckle. "I prefer to act, not react. But with so many eyes watching, sometimes one has to adjust."

Liu Sheng stopped near a sculpture of a twisted steel helix. "Spectron’s fall created a vacuum. But stepping into a dead man’s shoes is rarely comfortable."

"Unless the shoes were never his to begin with," Lin Feng said evenly. "Spectron wasn’t building—they were blocking. What comes next needs less show, more structure."

Liu studied him for a long second. "You speak like a man building for something permanent."

"I am."

"You think Zixuan will let you?"

"He doesn’t get a vote," Lin Feng replied.

That earned a subtle smile from Liu. "Then you might be interested in something."

Liu took out his phone and tapped a few buttons, pulling up a satellite image.

"This warehouse outside Suzhou used to belong to a Spectron shell company. Now it’s listed under a Korean logistics firm. But according to our sources, the trucks entering carry high-performance GPUs, and the energy consumption pattern inside resembles early-stage AI mining nodes."

"AI scraping centers," Lin Feng muttered.

"They’re trying to corner the new compute chain before the regulations lock in."

Lin Feng’s eyes narrowed. "And if I can link that to Zixuan’s foreign arm..."

"You won’t just have public support," Liu said. "You’ll have the government watching his every step."

Back at the Lin Estate, Gu Qingcheng leaned back on the couch with a tablet in hand, her legs curled under her. "So he’s escalating into foreign-backed infrastructure fraud now?"

Li Yixin, sipping from a glass of green tea, glanced over. "He’s not stupid. If he’s using Korean shells, he’s either testing your response speed or baiting you into an overstep."

Gu Qingcheng looked up. "You think Lin Feng should wait?"

"I think," Li Yixin said, "he should show his hand only when the trap’s already closed."

A few seconds later, Lin Feng entered, pulling off his blazer. The women turned their attention to him.

"Two things," he said. "First, we’re launching a public education grant this weekend with Yuxia and Yuhan heading logistics. I want both of you present—it needs the appearance of a unified philanthropic initiative."

They nodded.

"Second," he continued, "I need someone from our side inside Tianbao. Liu Sheng is useful, but he’s not transparent."

Gu Qingcheng tapped the tablet. "Tianbao has a regional liaison named Xu Meili. She’s an art consultant on the surface, but our last audit suggests she was previously involved with a semi-official culture bureau in Xi’an. I can try to approach her."

"Do it," Lin Feng said. "And don’t push too fast."

"I’ll be a breeze," she replied, smirking. "And breezes open windows."

Three days later, under the banner of "Youth for Tomorrow," Yunteng’s campus initiative launched with more force than anyone expected. Not only did it capture major media attention, but live coverage showed Lin Feng speaking alongside Mei Yuxia, Chen Yuhan, and student leaders about green ventures, AI literacy, and female leadership in tech.

What wasn’t shown publicly was the data being harvested in the background: which accounts were spreading disinformation, which student bodies were unusually funded, and what external traffic sources were being used.

Xiao Zhi compiled a report. "Sixty percent of the attacks on Lin Feng’s education record are coming from a single IP block tied to an advertising firm in Chengdu—subsidiary of Hanwei Group."

Lin Feng’s jaw tightened.

Hanwei.

The name hadn’t come up in years, but he remembered it clearly. Back in university, they were among the first corporate groups to snub his team’s early patents. Word was that Zixuan’s cousin sat on their board now.

"Pull their financials. Look for any overseas transfers post-Spectron collapse."

That night, Lin Feng sat on the balcony of his penthouse, phone in hand. Across from him, Li Yixin sat cross-legged, watching the skyline.

"You ever feel like all of this," she gestured to the city below, "is just noise until someone strikes?"

Lin Feng nodded. "Every day. But the trick is to move before they know they need to."

She looked at him for a long second. "And when will you?"

"When the window is small enough," he said, "that they can’t escape."

A beat passed. She smiled.

"Then I hope you’re watching closely. Because someone new just arrived in the game."

He turned.

"Who?"

She handed him a dossier.

"Her name’s Qin Xue. Former fintech advisor to ASEAN council, disappeared two years ago. Now she’s registered a new firm in Hangzhou—backed by Hanwei and Spectron’s old private ledger."

Lin Feng’s eyes narrowed as he read the name.

The next wave had just begun.