Chapter 5: Unveiled Truths

On the evening of the Dragon Boat Festival, Wen Nuan prepared dinner early. After waiting for what felt like an eternity, she finally received a call from Wen Rou, who sounded full of regret. Wen Rou had to entertain an important client and couldn’t make it to dinner. Staring at the table full of carefully prepared dishes, Wen Nuan felt her appetite fade. She sighed, reached for a disc of *Angel's Harp*, and set it on the record player.

Irish folk music leaves its mark on almost every genre worldwide. Celtic culture is truly the heart of world music.

Ireland is the perfect setting for a story like *The Wizard of Oz*—vast skies, rolling mountains, deep blue waters, and a beautiful witch skilled in white magic living in a massive, dark castle hidden deep within the forest. Her long hair flows like a river to the ground, and a harp rests by the stove. When she looks back, her eyes are as pure as emeralds.

In the 12th and 13th centuries, Scotland and Ireland were lands filled with countless romantic and tragic legends. Minstrels sang folk songs at banquets, skirts swirled under silver candlesticks, hereditary nobles served their king, and warriors were honored with titles after battle. Lords were given castles, lands, horses, and slaves, and even the common folk held their property forever.

The deep and lingering half-bright, half-faded impression of that era stemmed from ancient European romantic novels, systems, customs, clothing, and accessories. As Wen Nuan delved into historical knowledge through various original works, she found herself falling in love with a place she had never been to, and with knights who wielded swords in ancient times.

Finally, she set foot on the highlands and listened to the moving music.

And her favorite tune seemed to carry a sense of familiarity for everyone.

The music video was simple, showing only a face from beginning to end. Emerald eyes held a certain innocence, and with each sung line, her eyelashes drooped lightly. Her face, with eyes half-closed, radiated silent melancholy... Nothing compares to you; you are truly incomparable.

Beyond the ancient, melodious chants that have echoed through the mountains and forests for centuries, Ireland has also birthed countless literary masters. Among them, Yeats—mysterious, melancholic, and full of Pre-Raphaelite imagery—once wrote:

"If I had the clothes of heaven

woven with golden and silver light,

this blue, gray, and black fabric

belonging to the night, day, and dawn,

I would spread them under your feet."

Wen Nuan, lost in thought, was startled when she noticed an odd rustling in the music, which seemed to come from the keyhole. Suddenly, the door swung open, and soft light from the corridor spilled into the darkened room. As she jumped up in a panic, the hall lights flared to life, so bright that she immediately shielded her eyes with her hand.

Wen Rou stood at the door, stunned. "Why are you—?"

Wen Nuan said nothing, turned off the music, and walked toward the bedroom. "You're welcome."

Wen Rou remained frozen, only managing to say to the person beside her, "This is the first time I've seen her cry."

Zhan Nanxian gazed at the bedroom door, closed tightly without a single gap. When the light came on, he had also noticed her long, wet eyelashes, red-rimmed eyes, and the two sorrowful tears that clung to her face.

Wen Rou turned to him and asked, "What day is today?"

"Huh?"

"Why were you downstairs from her? And why is she crying?"

He didn’t answer. After a moment, a faint smile, tinged with something unspoken, appeared on his lips. "Let's go."

Wen Rou hesitated, unsure whether she should knock on the door or just leave. She knew that pressing Wen Nuan for answers would only force her to offer excuses. With a helpless shake of her head, she followed Zhan Nanxian out.

As they descended the stairs, she murmured, "I'm worried about her."

Zhan Nanxian smiled slightly. "What are you worried about? I think she’s living quite comfortably."

"You don’t know what happened afterward."

He replied with mild curiosity, "Oh?"

"The day we found out about Dad’s accident, she and I were both there. But within just ten minutes, she seemed to accept the reality. I’ll never forget that scene. She said, without a trace of emotion, 'Should we prepare for a memorial service? We need to pick one of Dad’s favorite photos.'"

Zhan Nanxian remained silent for a while before curving his lips slightly. "Hasn’t she always been like that?"

At times, she's so naive it’s hard to believe. At others, she's so rational it’s unsettling—so heartless that even the gods would shudder.

"Not only that, you don’t know..." Wen Rou raised her hand to push back her hair and whispered, "That day, I did something I regret most in my life."

Zhan Nanxian’s gaze was drawn to the ancient Nepalese silver bracelet on her left wrist. The five-centimeter-wide band was adorned with unique and intricate patterns. As she lowered her hand, the bracelet slid from her forearm to her wrist, and for a brief moment, his usually calm and aloof expression softened.

Wen Rou offered a bitter smile.

"That day, it was as if she suddenly grew up. One second, she was a pampered princess who didn’t even know how to light an electric stove. The next, she seemed capable of bearing the weight of the world. Can you even imagine that?"

He said nothing, but the corners of his thin lips tightened slightly.

"I would have preferred if she had hit me, yelled at me, blamed me, or hated me—because I deserved it. But she didn’t. She simply told me to go back to my room and rest, saying she would handle everything else. The calmer she was, the more suffocated I felt. Guilt weighed so heavily on me that I couldn’t bear to face her. I was completely lost and desperate for a moment. I went back to my room and shut the door."

She paused, her voice trembling.

"Maybe there really is some kind of intuition between people who share blood. As soon as I cut the vein, she came upstairs and knocked on the door. I didn’t answer. I listened as she panicked, slapping and kicking the door, while I watched the blood from my wrist pool on the floor. In my twisted state of mind, I felt a sense of revenge. I thought, I'll give it all back to her... give it all back to her... Then Zhu Linlu arrived, and they broke down the door together."

Zhu Linlu rushed over, frantic to bandage her, while Wen Nuan... stood frozen at the door, unmoving, just staring at her as if she were a stranger. It was in that moment that Wen Rou emerged from her fog of despair, sadness, madness, and resentment. She realized she had made an irreparable mistake.

"She never visited me once while I was hospitalized. On the day I was discharged, Zhu Linlu came to take me to my father’s funeral hall. Wen Nuan had organized the memorial service and was waiting for me to be released. That was the last time I saw her. She stayed at the funeral hall all night. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. Zhu Linlu told me she had gone to England."

"Did you reach out to her after she left?"

"Not at first. No letters, no calls, no emails. It was like she disappeared from the face of the earth. Every time I pressed Zhu Linlu, he only said that she needed time and refused to tell me anything more. It wasn’t until a year later that she was willing to contact me."

Zhan Nanxian turned to look at her slowly. "So during that first year after she left—only Zhu Linlu knew where she was?"

"It seems that way."

He habitually curled his lips into a half-smile and said nothing more.

"After seven years, she finally returned, but she was like a stranger... someone I no longer recognized."

All traces of her youth were gone. She carried herself with a maturity and wisdom that was both startling and serene, as if nothing in her past could disturb her now. No matter how the world turned, she had gained the ability to remain unshaken. She stood apart from everything, always smiling, always untouchable.

But it obviously shouldn’t be this way. Even with the passage of time, it’s impossible to erase all the trauma.

However, the years have kept the two sisters apart for seven long years. She can no longer grasp what her sister is thinking.

Under the night sky, the lights shimmered, appearing close yet distant. When the wind blew, thoughts lifted like strands of hair.

Zhan Nanxian paused and extended his hand toward Wen Rou. “You should go back now. Give me the key. I’ll go up to see her.”

Wen Rou hesitated, wanting to say something, but seeing the gentle yet determined look in his eyes, she silently handed over a key.

He went upstairs, unlocked the door, and turned on the light.

The living room was a blend of deep and light purple fabrics, simple yet elegant. The four-meter-wide balcony was draped with floor-length gauzy curtains, their silver Roman rods adding a touch of sophistication. The fabric was thin and light, swaying beautifully in the breeze.

In one corner of the dining room, a large bunch of orange gerberas stood in a powder-blue porcelain vase. On the table were five dishes and a soup, along with two sets of pristine, crystal-clear British bone china. It was clear that the person locked in the room had not touched her dinner.

He pulled out a chair and sat down, picking up the cold dishes and eating slowly with chopsticks.

The noise outside continued for a long time, and finally, Wen Nuan opened the door and stepped out. The moment she saw it was him, she instinctively wanted to close the door again, but his glance made her control that impulse.

Zhan Nanxian kept his head down, concentrating on his meal as if nothing had happened. He appeared so calm, as though he were at home, and she was just a transparent ghost he could easily ignore.

She moved toward the sofa, lay down, picked up the remote, and turned on the record player. Music filled the silence.

After finishing his meal, he slowly poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the sliding door of the balcony, gazing out at the night sky.

He stayed for about a quarter of an hour before putting down the glass and heading back to the living room.

As his footsteps grew closer, Wen Nuan bit her lip, maintaining her position. Her eyes remained fixed on the armrest of the sofa beneath her, aligned with her body as if she were glued in place, unable to move.

Zhan Nanxian stopped near the tea table covered in purple gauze, bending down just an arm’s length away. She still refused to look at him, but her toes, which had been resting together, subconsciously tightened, revealing the subtle tension in her heart. Every line of her body was quietly on guard, having decided that no matter what he said, she would ignore it.

Without a word, Zhan Nanxian picked up the newspaper from the tea table, stood up, and walked toward the door, casually flipping through its pages.

Wen Nuan’s eyes widened in astonishment as she watched his back. Just as he was about to turn the door handle, he glanced back at her. His eyes twinkled with amusement, arrogance, ridicule, gentleness, and love, as if he were on the verge of laughing out loud. But he only caught her gaze for a moment before turning around, closing the door behind him.

The remote in her hand slipped, hitting the floor with a solid "snap." The back panel and battery scattered across the ground.

The next morning, Guan Ti headed to the 66th floor again. As he passed Ding Xiaodai, he playfully patted her head. Caught off guard, she wanted to shout but could only puff up her cheeks and glare at his retreating back.

Wen Nuan observed this indifferently and continued to work with her head down.

Ding Xiaodai glanced at Wen Nuan, as if wanting to approach her, but after a moment's hesitation, she decided against it and turned back.

In the president's office, Zhan Nanxian asked, "How did it go?"

Guan Ti patted the file bag in his hand. "It’s all here. The evidence is irrefutable; there’s no way he can hide."

“Have him come up, and ask Gao Fang to join us too.”

When Guo Ruqian, the deputy manager of the technical department, was called up by Ding Xiaodai, Zhan Nanxian, Gao Fang, and Guan Ti were already waiting in the conference room.

Guan Ti spoke first.

“Since the company’s network security and protection system uses the most advanced technology in the world, no one has been able to breach it so far. Whether accessing from outside or inside, even cracking Qianyu’s firewall, and attempting to remotely control a computer within the company, wouldn’t trigger the tracking alarm I set up.”

If the alarm had been triggered, I would’ve received a real-time notification on my phone. Over the past few days, I haven’t received any alerts at all. From this, it’s clear that Wen Nuan’s computer wasn’t tampered with by external hackers. It must have been done by someone inside the company.

“To remotely control Wen Nuan’s laptop without triggering its protection system, there’s only one way—planting a Trojan horse in her laptop beforehand. This puzzled me at first, because no one in the company could have accessed her computer on the 66th floor without being noticed.”

“Unless Wen Nuan herself downloaded or installed the Trojan virus on her laptop, and it was a new type of program that her antivirus software couldn’t detect.”

“At first, I couldn’t figure out how you did it, until Nanxian asked me yesterday why I hadn’t emailed him the latest Yizhong plan. Then it hit me—I didn’t send it via email that day; I copied it to Wen Nuan’s laptop using a USB flash drive. The Trojan horse must have been hidden in that USB flash drive.”

“I usually leave that USB flash drive on my desk. Maybe Guo Ruqian overheard my conversation with Wen Nuan that day, realized I was going to copy the file, and secretly installed the invisible Trojan program onto the flash drive while I was away. When Wen Nuan connected the flash drive to her laptop and copied the data, the Trojan horse infiltrated her computer.”

“The day before yesterday at 12:15 p.m., you went to an Internet cafe near the company during your lunch break, remotely activated the Trojan horse to control Wen Nuan’s computer, accessed her mailbox, and sent Yi Zhong’s plan to Zhu Linlu. Afterward, you erased the Trojan horse and cleared all traces of your access, leaving no evidence.”

Guo Ruqian had done this so discreetly that he managed to delete the Trojan horse from the USB flash drive, leaving no trace. Without substantial evidence, even though the three of them suspected him, they couldn’t prove his guilt based on speculation alone.

“Unfortunately, you were careless. Although you erased the records on Wen Nuan’s laptop, you failed to erase the records at the Internet cafe. The document in my hand contains a complete log of your actions on Computer No. 18 at Paradise Internet Cafe, from 12:15 to 12:35 that day. Additionally, there’s a CD that captures your entire time at the Internet cafe, from the moment you entered until you hurriedly left due to a phone call. This was all recorded by the cafe’s security camera, which was originally installed to monitor theft.”

As Guan Ti finished, Guo Ruqian kept his head down, remaining silent.

Gao Fang spoke up. “I understand you wanted to help Du Xintong vent her anger because she dislikes Wen Nuan, but no company will tolerate behavior that compromises its interests for personal grudges. We can recommend to Nanxian not to pursue legal action against you, but you must tell us—did you share the proposal with anyone else?”

Guo Ruqian quickly shook his head. “No, I only sent the email to Secretary Wen’s inbox. I didn’t copy the proposal. Senior Guan, you can check. If I had copied the file, there would be a log in the operation records.”

Guan Ti looked at Zhan Nanxian. “He’s telling the truth. He only sent the email.”

Zhan Nanxian thought for a moment. “Deputy Manager Guo, you may leave for now. Guan Ti will notify you of the next steps.”

After Guo Ruqian left, Guan Ti was puzzled, "Is it just a coincidence that he framed Wen Nuan right when Zhu Linghong and Pan Weining were handling this matter?"

Gao Fang shook his head, "My gut says no. It's too interconnected to be mere coincidence."

Zhan Nanxian tapped his fingers on the table, "You're overlooking someone—Du Xintong. She's the key."

Gao Fang's eyes lit up. "Yes, if Du Xintong is the link, things start to make sense. Guo Ruqian didn't know the full story—he was just a pawn. But Du Xintong couldn't have planned all this on her own, so who's the mastermind? And how did the plan end up in Zhu Linghong's hands?"

"Did Zhu Linlu forward the email to his cousin after receiving it?" Guan Ti asked.

"No," Zhan Nanxian dismissed the idea. "If Zhu Linlu forwarded it, that would be betrayal, and he wouldn't do that to Wen Nuan. His goal is to stay out of it and benefit from the situation."

Gao Fang considered this. "So, whoever orchestrated this can manipulate Du Xintong, influence Pan Weining, and has the means to deal with Zhu Linghong—"

Just as he was speaking, Zhan Nanxian's expression changed for the first time. Both Gao Fang and Guan Ti looked at him.

A thought struck Guan Ti, and he stood up abruptly, "If the plan didn’t leak from Wen Nuan or me, then there's only one possibility."

Gao Fang jumped up in surprise, "How could it be her?!"

Zhan Nanxian looked resigned and smiled bitterly, "I brought the plan home."

"I get it!" Guan Ti turned to Gao Fang, "Pan Weining was once interested in Yi Xin. Though it didn’t work out, they became friends. He wouldn't sabotage things because of his feelings for her."

Gao Fang nodded. "So, here's how it went: Zhu Linghong approached Pan Weining about a partnership. Pan Weining, with good intentions, passed the info to Yi Xin to warn her about Zhu Linghong. But Yi Xin saw the plan Zhan Nanxian brought home and had her own ideas. She instructed Pan Weining to deal with Zhu Linghong, Du Xintong to frame Wen Nuan, and tried to use Pan Weining to pursue Wen Nuan. It's a three-pronged strategy."

"It seems Yi Xin knows the company inside out. She’s aware of the connections between Du Xintong and Guo Ruqian and the grudge between Du Xintong and Wen Nuan. She targeted Du Xintong at a vulnerable time when she was eager to please the future president's wife."

Both men looked at Zhan Nanxian.

He sighed, "You’re not completely right, but close enough."

"How do you plan to handle this?" Gao Fang asked.

Zhan Nanxian sighed, clearly troubled. "What can I do? I have to clean up this mess." He picked up the phone in the conference room, "Wen Nuan, come in here."

When Wen Nuan entered, she saw the varied expressions on their faces. She lowered her eyelashes.

Zhan Nanxian spoke to her gently, "We’ve figured it out. It wasn’t your fault. Several people are involved, and I’ll deal with them."

She just nodded without saying a word, not asking for details or who framed her.

Gao Fang and Guan Ti exchanged glances. Before Gao Fang could stop him, Guan Ti blurted out, "Don’t you want to know—" He realized his mistake too late, covering his mouth as Zhan Nanxian glared at him and Gao Fang rolled his eyes. Their awkward behavior made Wen Nuan speak.

"I’ve been away for seven years. Since returning three years ago, I haven’t mingled with anyone. The number of people I know can be counted on one hand. I can’t imagine who would want to take me down," she said calmly.

Zhan Nanxian looked a bit embarrassed. "You know?"

"I don’t know anything, but women have a natural intuition. Based on what you’ve said, it seems I was right."

Zhan Nanxian told Gao Fang and Guan Ti, "You two, leave us."

Wen Nuan stopped them, her voice soft but firm. "No need. Whether you want to defend or cover for Bo Yixin, I’m not interested. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going."

Zhan Nanxian watched her leave, feeling frustrated as he rubbed his temples.

Guan Ti couldn’t help but comment, "Zhan Nanxian, I’m not trying to criticize, but Wen Nuan is way more graceful than you. Remember how harsh you were with her? It broke my heart to see her like that, but look at how composed she is now."

Zhan Nanxian shot him a look. "You think you know her better than I do? Don’t be fooled—she's not as easygoing as she seems. The quiet ones are often the most dangerous. She didn’t even look at me just now."

Gao Fang frowned, "Nanxian, what’s going on? Why is Yi Xin targeting Wen Nuan like this?"

"It's complicated and not something I can explain right now. Just pretend you don’t know anything and don’t mention this in front of Yi Xin."

Seeing Zhan Nanxian didn’t want to discuss it further, Gao Fang and Guan Ti dropped the subject.

"Everything’s been negotiated with Daizhong and Yizhong, and the contract will be signed soon. Guan Ti, find a way to get their proposal to me," Zhan Nanxian instructed.

"What are you planning to do?" Guan Ti asked.

"Once I see their proposal, I’ll talk to Pan Wei’an. I have a way to make him agree to end this. Gao Fang, start preparing for our sales team to take over Daizhong's accounts."

Gao Fang was taken aback. "Why? That could backfire badly."

Zhan Nanxian’s lips curled into a slight smile, as if he had a plan. "I want to acquire Daizhong. The time is right, and we can start making moves."

A few days later, Pan Weining resumed sending flowers, but this time it was just one bouquet a day, always pure white lilies as large as bowls, with no note attached.

Ding Xiaodai ran over to Wen Nuan excitedly, "Sister Wen, should I return these again? I can call the flower shop for you!"

Wen Nuan didn’t look up, simply shook her head, "No, just leave them there." She continued reviewing the report in her hand.

Ding Xiaodai, feeling dejected, finally spoke up, "Sister Wen, did I do something wrong? If I upset you, please tell me, and I’ll change!"

Wen Nuan looked at her in surprise, "Why would you think that?"

"You haven’t paid much attention to me lately..." Ding Xiaodai’s voice trailed off, her head hanging low. "Sister Wen, why don’t you talk and laugh with me like before? What did I do wrong?"

It felt like they were back to the early days of their acquaintance. Wen Nuan was polite but distant, always saying "please" and "thank you" for even the smallest tasks. The closeness they once shared seemed to have vanished, replaced by a wall that kept Ding Xiaodai at a distance.

Wen Nuan offered a quiet, apologetic smile, "There’s just been a lot going on recently. I’m overwhelmed, and the pressure’s been getting to me. I’m sorry if I seem distant."

Ding Xiaodai's eyes were slightly red as she looked at Wen Nuan. "Are you sure it's not something I did wrong?"

Wen Nuan gave her a soft smile. "Of course not." She glanced at her watch. "It's already noon. You should go get some lunch. Afterward, bring Mr. Zhan a portion of stewed spaghetti from the western restaurant."

"What about you? Can I bring something back for you?"

"No, thanks. I'll take a walk downstairs after I finish this report. My back's a little sore from sitting all morning."

"Okay, then I'll head out."

Wen Nuan nodded, her attention returning to the report. She didn’t look up again until Ding Xiaodai had left, when she heard a slight creaking sound. The door that had been ajar was now fully open, and Zhan Nanxian stepped out from behind it. His gaze, deep and intense, held a mixture of helplessness and an indescribable tenderness.

He sighed softly, an unusual gesture for him. "Guo Ruqian and Du Xintong will resign within a week, and Ding Xiaodai will be transferred to the secretariat."

Wen Nuan put down the report, picked up her phone and wallet, and left the office without saying a word.

Zhan Nanxian had no choice but to follow her. "I was wrong that day at your house."

She remained silent, pressing the elevator's down button and waiting, treating him as if he were invisible.

Zhan Nanxian curved his lips slightly, as if he had made a decision. He sighed, "Alright, since you insist on this." He suddenly turned her around and pressed his lips to hers.

He straightened up, pinning her soft, delicate body against the wall. With a few swift moves, he neutralized her resistance and encircled her waist with his arms. His lips and tongue claimed hers, absorbing all her surprise and anger, as he delved into her sweetness, savoring the taste that captivated him.

His kiss grew deeper, more focused, and more seductive.

A complex mix of emotions surged through her—bittersweet, exhilarating, and disorienting. The once-hidden feelings now flared to life, leaving her weak and powerless, unable to resist his fiery embrace. She felt every cell in her body awaken to an indescribable joy. She yearned for him to continue, to give her more, even if it was torturous.

The faint "ding" of the elevator broke through the spell, signaling them to stop. But he ignored it, continuing to kiss her with the same intensity. Her struggles grew stronger, signaling her returning clarity. He sighed almost imperceptibly and, with a sense of regret, slowly released her, savoring her lips one last time before letting her push him away.

He turned to see who was in the elevator and smiled. "Yixin, what brings you here?"

Bo Yixin returned his smile, her expression calm and composed as if she hadn’t witnessed the scene moments before. "I was passing by and thought I'd check in on you."

Wen Nuan stepped into the elevator and pressed the close button. Never had she felt the doors move so slowly, taking what seemed like an eternity to close, making her want to hide within the steel walls, away from the eyes outside.

As the elevator descended, she covered her face with her hands, bewildered by what had just happened. She called Ding Xiaodai to say she wouldn’t be returning to the office that afternoon, then drove off from the underground parking lot.

She wandered aimlessly through the city, her mind in turmoil. A sharp pain pierced her heart, and she couldn’t understand why Zhan Nanxian had acted that way or where she even wanted to go. All she knew was that she couldn’t return to the office right now.

The hours passed by in a blur, the afternoon slipping away until the sky began to darken. Stopped at a red light, she turned on the radio out of boredom. A low, sorrowful male voice filled the small space. She froze, the familiar voice unlocking memories she had tried so hard to bury.

She had almost forgotten how much she once loved listening to that singer years ago.

The green light signaled her to move, and she crossed the intersection, feeling a sense of disorientation. Why was the radio station playing an English song after a Chinese one? Then, as Matthew Lien's "Bressanone" began, she realized it wasn’t the radio—it was her phone.

Hurriedly, she connected her headphones. "Hello?"

The song stopped abruptly, and the car was filled once more with the Chinese lyrics.

After a long silence, she checked her phone’s screen. It was Zhan Nanxian.

She turned off the radio, not saying a word. The silence on the other end persisted.

Finally, she curved her lips into a sad, ironic smile. "Zhan?"

"Come to the Fujisue Club," he said, his tone as light as ever. "I need you to entertain an important guest."

After a few seconds of silence, she stowed away her emotions and replied softly, "I’ll be there in twenty minutes."

After hanging up, she rested her head against the steering wheel in the slow-moving traffic. Maybe it was time to quit this job.

Next