CHAPTER 114: CHAPTER 114; FIRST STEP IN REVENGE (B)

Lu Zeyan stared at the words on the screen, feeling them settle like weights on his chest. This was his lifeline, the carefully crafted story that might save him from complete destruction. All he had to do was deliver it convincingly enough that people wanted to believe in redemption more than they wanted to believe in justice.

"What about the company?" another assistant piped up, looking terrified. "The board members are losing their minds. Stock’s down by fourteen percent. There’s talk of an emergency vote to remove him."

"The company lives or dies with Lu Zeyan," Wang Jing said flatly. "If we rehabilitate his image, the stock recovers and everyone keeps their jobs. If we fail..." She shrugged with brutal honesty. "He gets removed, someone else takes over, and the rest of us better hope our resumes are updated. So we don’t fail. Simple."

She clicked to another slide, a script, actually formatted like a play. "Press conference structure: Lu Zeyan speaks first. Brief opening statement acknowledging the situation, expressing commitment to truth, referencing the investigation findings without being too specific. Then Shuyin takes over."

Shuyin shifted in her chair, all that lazy observation sharpening into focus. "What do I say?"

"Everything," Wang Jing said. "You tell your story, prison, suffering, the poison that changed your eyes. By the way, that detail is gold. Absolute gold. Physical proof of trauma that people can see. Use it."

"Use it how?"

"Talk about how you nearly died. How other inmates targeted you because they believed you’d killed an old woman. How the poison damaged your nervous system, changed you fundamentally. But you survived. You endured. And despite everything, you never stopped hoping that the truth would come out."

Wang Jing moved closer, her voice dropping into something almost intimate. "And then comes the most important part: forgiveness. You forgive Lu Zeyan for not fighting harder. You forgive the system for failing you. You forgive your sister for falling in love with him. You become the voice of mercy in all this chaos, the woman who suffered but chose grace over vengeance. People will lose their goddamn minds. They’ll eat it up like it’s the last meal on earth."

"Forgiveness," Shuyin repeated, and Lu Zeyan couldn’t shake the feeling that she was tasting the word like wine, testing its utility.

"Exactly. You become the embodiment of mercy. The angel who rose above human pettiness. It’s powerful, it’s sympathetic, and most importantly, it makes you untouchable. No one can question your motives if you’re literally forgiving everyone."

Wang Jing’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it and cursed colorfully. "The villa transfer just went through, and some idiot in legal already leaked it to the press. People are asking why you just gave your ex-fiancée a fifty-million-yuan property."

"Compensation," Shuyin said immediately, her voice firm. "For what was taken from me. For those weeks of my life. It’s restitution, not a gift."

Wang Jing’s eyes lit up. "Perfect. That’s exactly our angle. It shows concrete action, not just empty words. You’re literally giving back what you took. It’s reparations. Justice in material form."

Feng Ting burst into the room like he was being chased by demons, which given the day they were having, might have been preferable to reality.

"Sir! The first transfer is ready. Five hundred million yuan. You just need to authorize."

Lu Zeyan pulled out his phone, staring at the authorization screen. Five hundred million yuan. Half of what he’d promised. Money that would gut his personal accounts, force him to liquidate investments at the worst possible time, and probably trigger some very uncomfortable questions from tax authorities.

But what choice did he have?

His finger hovered over the button for just a moment, one last second to consider backing out, refusing, letting this all explode in his face.

Then he pressed authorize.

"Done," he said, and the word felt like surrender.

Shuyin’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, and for just a fraction of a second, something flickered across her face.

Satisfaction. Triumph. The look of a predator that just felt its trap snap shut.

Then it was gone, replaced by gracious neutrality. "Thank you, Zeyan."

"The rest after the conference," he said, trying to sound like he was in control. Like he hadn’t just been played. "As agreed."

"As agreed," she echoed, and somehow made it sound like a promise and a threat all at once.

Wang Jing was already moving on, her mind three steps ahead of everyone else in the room. "We need backup documentation for every claim we make. I want timelines, expert opinions, and evidence that support our narrative. If anyone challenges us during the Q&A, we bury them in so much paperwork they forget what they were asking about."

"What about hostile questions?" an assistant asked nervously. "Because reporters are going to come in hot. They’ll ask about timing, about why he waited so long, about the relationship with Yueling..."

"We control the questions," Wang Jing interrupted, and her smile was sharp enough to draw blood. "This is our press conference. Our stage. We plant-friendly journalists with softball questions that let us expand on our narrative. We position the skeptical ones where they’re easy to ignore. And if anyone gets too aggressive, we shut them down by pivoting to our prepared talking points. This isn’t a democracy, it’s theater."

She turned to Lu Zeyan, and her expression softened just slightly. "Look, I know this feels overwhelming. I know you’re used to controlling situations, and right now you feel like you’re drowning. But you hired me because I’m the best at what I do. And what I do is turn disasters into comebacks. So trust me. Do exactly what I say, hit every mark I give you, and we’ll walk out of that press conference with your career intact. Fail to follow the script, try to improvise, let your ego make decisions..."

She let the sentence hang, unfinished but crystal clear.

Lu Zeyan swallowed hard. "I’ll follow the script."