Huo Meilin's scream of rage echoed through the Huo family estate's private study, her manicured nails clawing at a silk cushion until it split, feathers spilling like snow across the polished mahogany floor. The Jiading mansion—her fortress of privilege—was still a mess from Jingran's fox construct fiasco, broken chandeliers and claw marks mocking her perfect life. That rat, her adopted sister, had dared to steal the jade seal, humiliate her family, and trend on X as some redemption sob story. Meilin's phone lay on the desk, glowing with her latest post: Huo secrets unraveling. Who's the real villain? #NotMySister. The likes poured in, but it wasn't enough. Jingran was winning.
"She's a nobody!" Meilin hissed, pacing past a jade vase—one of the few left unbroken. "A stray we pitied, and now she's—what? Shanghai's hero?"
A low chuckle answered from the shadows, smooth and cold as winter fog. "Careful, Miss Huo. Hate like that burns you faster than her."
Meilin spun, her silk dress swirling, to face a man leaning against the study's bookshelves. He was new—too new—his tailored suit sharp, his eyes sharper, glinting like obsidian behind a faint smile. Zhao Wenxu, a name whispered among Shanghai's elite, tied to a Suzhou clan that dabbled in tech and… other things. Meilin didn't know him well, but his call after Jingran's stunt had promised power. And she was listening.
"Don't lecture me, Zhao," Meilin snapped, tossing her hair. "Jingran's tearing my family apart. She took the seal—our seal—and ran to that snake, Teng Haoran."
Zhao Wenxu stepped into the candlelight, his presence heavy despite his casual stance. "The seal's more than yours, Meilin. It's a key—old magic, older grudges. Your sister's stumbling into a game she can't win."
Meilin's lips curled, venomous. "She's not my sister. She's a glitch my parents should've deleted years ago."
Zhao's smile didn't waver, but his eyes flickered—amused, maybe dangerous. "A glitch with a pendant that's waking up. Bei Xiwen wants it. Badly."
Meilin froze, her mind snagging on Xiwen. Jingran's gala tantrum—calling out Xiwen, dodging her goons—had cracked the saintly heiress's facade. Meilin admired Xiwen's polish, her control, but Zhao's tone hinted at deeper ties. "Xiwen sent you?" she asked, wary.
He shrugged, plucking a feather from the air. "Let's say I'm… curious. Xiwen's plans are bold, but sloppy. Jingran's a thorn, and I don't like thorns."
Meilin's pulse quickened. "Then help me crush her. She's at HuoTech's ruins—X says she's chasing some 'core.' I want her humiliated, disowned, gone."
Zhao tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle. "Humiliation's cheap. Power's better. Work with me, and you'll have both—plus the Huo legacy, free of Jingran's stink."
Meilin's breath caught. The Huo legacy—her birthright, tainted by Jingran's scandals—was all she'd ever wanted. Her parents, Guangli and Qiongyu, had coddled Jingran once, hoping she'd boost their charity image. Now, they despised her, but Meilin saw weakness. They'd hesitate to cut Jingran off completely—optics mattered. Meilin had no such qualms.
"What's the catch?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Zhao's smile grew, edged with secrets. "No catch. Just loyalty. I'll handle Jingran's pendant; you keep your family in line. Deal?"
Meilin hesitated, her gaze flicking to a family portrait—Guangli stern, Qiongyu distant, Jingran absent, as she should be. Zhao's offer was a gamble, but Jingran's comeback was a slap she couldn't ignore. "Deal," she said, voice steady. "But I want proof—something to bury her."
Zhao pulled a tablet from his coat, its screen glowing with a video: Jingran fighting foxes at HuoTech's ruins, runes blazing, looking every bit the sorceress Xiwen accused her of being. "This," he said, "will ruin her. Post it when I say."
Meilin's grin was pure malice. "Oh, I'll make it viral."
Zhao nodded, slipping the tablet back. "Good. Xiwen's moving on the Bund—midnight. Jingran's headed there, seal in hand. Stay sharp, Meilin. Shanghai's about to get messy."
He vanished into the shadows, leaving a chill. Meilin clutched her phone, drafting another X post: Truth hurts, Jingran. #HuoLegacy. Her finger hovered over "send," but Zhao's warning held her back. Timing was everything.
She crossed to a hidden safe—her own, not Guangli's wrecked one—and pulled out a file: HuoTech's old contracts, ones Jingran never saw. They tied the Huo clan to Bei Innovations, long before the sabotage. Meilin's lips curled. "You're not the only one with secrets, sister."
Downstairs, Guangli's voice boomed, berating maids for the estate's mess. Qiongyu's silence was louder, her disapproval a constant blade. Meilin smirked—they'd thank her when Jingran was dust. The Huo name would shine again, hers alone.
But as she turned, the study's candles flickered, and a low hum—like static, like magic—brushed her skin. Her phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number: Watch your back, Huo. Secrets cut both ways. No emoji, no signature, just threat.
Meilin's smirk faltered, her eyes darting to the shadows. "Xiwen?" she whispered, then shook her head. No—someone else. Someone watching.
The Huo estate's gates gleamed under Jiading's streetlights, but Huo Jingran was miles away, limping through Minhang's fog toward a stolen scooter—HuoTech's ruins had left their car dead and their nerves fried. Her leg burned from the fox construct's slash, blood soaking her gala dress's hem, but the jade seal in her clutch glowed stronger, its runes humming with ley line data. Xiwen's Bund threat—Midnight, or Shanghai burns—loomed, and Lu Mingxu's trap still stung. That hacker's "help" was about as trustworthy as a free-to-play game's microtransactions.
"Bund by midnight," Jingran muttered, straddling the scooter. "What's Xiwen gonna do, blow up the skyline for likes?"
Teng Haoran, beside her, checked his proto-gun, its blue glow faint. "She's desperate. Desperate's dangerous."
Shao Lanyi, clutching her laptop, scoffed. "Desperate? She's got drones, foxes, and a grudge. I'd settle for her Wi-Fi password."
Jingran grinned, wincing as she revved the scooter. "Priorities, Lanyi. Let's crash her party first."
Her pendant pulsed, its voice smug: Jade Whisper alert: Task—Reach Bund, secure Jade Protocol Core. Reward: Ley line control fragment. Penalty: System overload.
"Overload?" Jingran hissed, weaving through Minhang's alleys. "What, you gonna blue-screen on me?"
Focus, Host. Bei sorcery intensifying—Bund is a trap. Success chance: 64%.
"Sixty-four," Jingran groaned. "My RNG's cursed."
Haoran ran alongside, annoyingly fit, his coat flapping. "Save the muttering, Jingran. We're exposed here."
"Exposed?" she shot back, dodging a pothole. "Says the guy with a glowstick gun. Subtle, much?"
Lanyi laughed, jogging behind. "He's got a point, boss. X posted again—Meilin's stirring crap. Says you're a 'danger to the Huo name.'"
Jingran's jaw tightened, Meilin's X post from the ruins flashing in her mind: #NotMySister. Her adoptive sister's hate wasn't new—Jingran's memories screamed years of snubs, stolen credit, public shade—but the timing reeked. "Meilin's working with someone," she said. "Bet it's Xiwen."
Haoran's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue, scanning the fog. The Bund was close—Huangpu River's glow ahead—but Jingran's pendant hummed, uneasy. A memory hit, not hers: HuoTech's launch, Guangli shaking hands with a Bei exec, the seal hidden in his office. Betrayal, it whispered.
"Betrayal?" Jingran muttered, shaking it off. The Huo clan's sorcery ties were deeper than she'd guessed, and Meilin knew more than she let on.
The scooter sputtered, dying near the Bund's edge. Skyscrapers loomed—Pearl Tower's pink glow mocking their rush. Midnight was minutes away, and the river's bank was too quiet, fog thick as a game's final level.
Haoran grabbed her arm, voice low. "Trap's here. Stay sharp."
Jingran nodded, seal clutched tight. "Sharp's my middle name. Well, Chaos Sharp."
Lanyi snorted, checking her phone. "No signal—Xiwen's jamming us."
The system blared: Trap confirmed—Bei constructs converging. New task: Survive until Core access.
"Survive?" Jingran whispered, runes sparking. The fog parted, revealing three fox constructs—sleek, lethal, eyes locked on her seal. Xiwen's voice rang out: "Time's up, Huo."
Jingran raised the seal, grinning fierce. "Round two, witch? Let's dance."