The conference hall of the Global Development Summit was packed, every seat filled with industry giants, press representatives, and ambitious entrepreneurs hoping to witness the dawn of something revolutionary.
In the front row, representatives of Huo Enterprise sat straight and dignified, with Shenzhi centered at the long executive table, flanked by his assistant. His dark suit was crisp, his expression composed as always, though his fingers occasionally tapped the glass desk in thought.
Just beside the Huo delegation sat Chen Yuze, smirking, his leg casually crossed over the other, snickering each time his gaze flicked to Shenzhi. There was no need for words—his eyes screamed one thing:
I won.
He had the file. The project. The weapon. And soon, the glory.
"Boss," the assistant leaned in, whispering tightly, "should we retract the submission? This is our last chance. If that file is out there—if he copied it, even altered it slightly—he could accuse you of theft."
Shenzhi didn't move his eyes from the stage, where the last presenter was wrapping up.
"No," he said flatly.
"But—"
"Submit it."
"But the decoy—"
"I said," Shenzhi repeated, quieter this time, "submit the file. Let him believe he's won."
The assistant swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."
Meanwhile, across the aisle, Chen Yuze was practically glowing, fingers lazily tapping the folder he had received from Jiaxuan just the day before.
The presentation hall buzzed with tension.
Huo Shenzhi sat at the end of the long executive table, his hands calmly folded before him. His expression was unreadable, yet every calculated breath spoke of complete control.
Opposite him, Chen Yuze reclined smugly, his leg resting over one knee, arms spread over the chair like a man about to receive a crown. The folder Jiaxuan had given him lay beside him, untouched.
He hadn't bothered to open it.
Why would he?
She had called him, sweet and obedient, saying she had the file for the Meng Food Canning Project—his project. She had even giggled like the old days, whispering, "Let's meet," as if they were still lovers.
And they did.
She handed him the file with a smile so genuine, it could fool even the heavens. And Yuze, drunk on triumph and lust for revenge, had taken it from her as if he had snatched Shenzhi's kingdom.
He didn't read a single page.
Instead, he sent a message to his legal team:
"Prepare a plagiarism suit. If Huo dares present the same project, I'll bury him. The original file is with me."
Beside Shenzhi, his assistant leaned in. "Sir, it's time. Do you still want me to submit the file?"
"Yes."
"But what if—"
"This is not just about business," Shenzhi said quietly. "This is about truth."
Then the emcee's voice echoed:
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage… CEO of the Huo Group, Mr. Huo Shenzhi."
Applause thundered as Shenzhi rose and walked to the podium.
Chen Yuze straightened slightly, now paying attention. Let's see if you dare.
Behind Shenzhi, the screen lit up:
Meng Canning Project: Redefining Food Futures.
Yuze's lips twitched. He did it. He's using my project. Perfect.
Let him finish the pitch. Let the audience cheer. Then Yuze would pounce. File a case. Drag Huo's reputation through the mud.
He didn't realize he was watching a silent storm roll in to destroy him.
Shenzhi began his speech—elegant, visionary, and sharp.
"In the age of digital supply chains and climate-responsive logistics, we must not only preserve food but extend its potential. The Meng Project does this through integrated vacuum-seal smart tech that adjusts preservation protocols based on geographic and environmental data."
The audience leaned in.
Yuze, smug, smirked. Just wait till you realize it's mine.
Shenzhi continued.
"China alone produced over 60 million tons of food waste last year, with more than 30% of that loss attributed to improper packaging and preservation. Meng Canning proposes a three-tiered solution…"
"What makes our project unique is the fusion of predictive AI with canning systems, tested over six months across ten rural and urban provinces. The result? A 63% decrease in spoilage and a 40% reduction in operational cost.
Applause again.
Polite applause began. One by one, it grew, scattered but solid. A few executives even nodded to each other approvingly.
Shenzhi's fingers tapped once on the table.
"Questions?" he asked smoothly.
One man raised a hand to discuss market testing; another inquired about logistics partnerships. Shenzhi' answered them all, steadily, even passionately, surprising more than one critic. He didn't speak over them.He didn't shrink under pressure. He simply stood his ground.
Yuze's smile faltered. That… wasn't in his project specs.
His brows creased. He looked at the folder for the first time.
Still, he didn't open it.
Doesn't matter. The title's the same. Close enough.
He pulled out his phone.
To his lawyer:
"It's close enough to ours. I want a full legal draft ready in two hours."
Back on stage, Shenzhi concluded with poise:
"This is not just about profit. It's about people, sustainability, and progress. The Meng Project is our gift to the future."
As applause swept the room, Yuze's secretary whispered, "Are you sure the files match? You didn't read the—"
"Shut up. I know what's in it," he hissed.
Moments later, the emcee returned to the mic:
"Next up, representing LongTech Corporation… Mr. Chen Yuze."
Shenzhi calmly walked back to his seat. As he passed Yuze, their eyes met.
Yuze's smirk was venomous.
But Shenzhi's slight, almost imperceptible smile?
That was death.
Chen Yuze stood at the podium with fake composure, his lips twitching at the corners as he held the file Jiaxuan had given him — the so-called "Meng Food Canning Project." He hadn't read it yet, but he believed without doubt that he held the Huo Group's intellectual property in his hand.
"Let's see how Huo Shenzhi wriggles out of this," he thought, oozing confidence.
With an arrogant flair, he addressed the boardroom, "Ladies and gentlemen, as the representative of LongTech Corporation, I bring forth a vision that will revolutionize the food preservation industry."
He held up the file proudly. "This document contains not just figures and projections, but a future. A strategy born from the minds of the best… carefully prepared and ready for implementation."
He paused for dramatic effect and handed the file to the secretary. "Please circulate this around the table for reference as I present."
The file was passed from one executive to another.
Yuze didn't notice the first confused furrow of a brow.
He didn't notice the second frown.
But he did notice when the CEO of Meng Group, Mr. Zhao, raised his hand sharply and said in a cold tone, "That's enough."
Yuze blinked. "Excuse me?"
Mr. Zhao's brows were furrowed tightly. "Mr. Chen, is this some kind of joke?"
The murmurs around the table grew louder.
"I—I'm not sure I understand…"
Mr. Zhao held up a page from the file. "This project is nothing like what we're looking for. Your file includes a preservation method that was rejected in public health forums over five years ago due to contamination risks. The data here is outdated. Sloppy. Even the charts are recycled from old canned seafood exports."
Another board member chimed in, "There's no AI integration, no climate-adaptive features, nothing modern. This isn't innovation. This is regurgitation."
The tension thickened. Someone coughed awkwardly.
Yuze felt his stomach drop. "There… there must be a mistake. That's the file—"
Mr. Zhao leaned forward coldly. "You were given the opportunity to present a meaningful project. If this is your best, LongTech will not be part of the shortlist."
Panic climbed up Yuze's throat.
He looked down at the file for the first time. Truly looked.
And in that moment, reality slapped him mercilessly.
This wasn't the Meng Project. It wasn't even close. It was junk. A mess of recycled data, outdated technology, and contradictions. And worse—there was no time to recover.
From the audience, Huo Shenzhi watched, expression unreadable, a quiet storm in his eyes.
His assistant leaned in and whispered, "Looks like the bait worked."
Yuze stood frozen.
Then came the final blow.
Mr. Zhao closed the file and said, "Next time, come prepared. We have no room for impostors."
Humiliated, Yuze had no choice but to leave the stage to stifled laughter and murmuring embarrassment. He glanced once at Jiaxuan seated beside Shenzhi, her face serene.
For the first time, he realized—
He'd been used.
And he never saw it coming.
Shenzhi sat quietly at the conference table, his sharp eyes fixed on the file Yuze had presented. He noticed the subtle shift in atmosphere—the murmurs, the stiff body language of the executives, the sharp cut-off from Meng Group's CEO. Yet, Yuze looked oblivious, still trying to defend his presentation as if nothing was wrong.
When Mr. Zhao openly criticized the file as outdated and irrelevant, Shenzhi's brow furrowed. He glanced sideways at Yuze, who now wore a mask of panic and disbelief.
Wait… what file did Yuze even have? Shenzhi wondered silently.
He had trusted Jiaxuan to handle the file with care—he had no idea she might have passed on a fake, or worse, some deliberately sabotaged document.
As the meeting ended, Shenzhi's assistant quietly approached him and whispered, "Sir, I just confirmed. Jiaxuan handed that file to Chen Yuze earlier today."
Shenzhi's confusion deepened. "She did? But why would she do that? And why that file?"
He stared at the empty chair where Yuze had been moments ago, his mind racing.
"Was this some kind of test? Or did Jiaxuan really want Yuze to have this useless file?" he asked himself.
Shenzhi's heart beat faster as he recalled the tension between Jiaxuan and Yuze. He didn't know her full motives or if she was playing some longer game.
His assistant added cautiously, "I'm monitoring Yuze's movements. He met with someone shortly after leaving the meeting. Possibly to share the file."
Shenzhi rubbed his temples, overwhelmed.
Why is Jiaxuan acting like this? What does she want? The questions gnawed at him.
For now, all he could do was wait and watch—and brace himself for whatever was coming next.
Jiaxuan sat on the leather couch in Shenzhi's office, legs crossed, her fingers anxiously tapping the armrest. She had been waiting for over an hour, the silence of the office gnawing at her nerves. She stood up, paced, sat again—eyes darting toward the door every time footsteps echoed beyond.
Finally, the door opened.
Shenzhi stepped in, tall and cold as ever, his expression unreadable. The moment their eyes met, Jiaxuan's face lit up in a soft smile, and she rushed to him with a kind of innocent excitement.
"You're here!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his. "I've been waiting. How did it go? Did the presentation go smoothly? Did they like the project?" Her voice was laced with hope, her gaze searching his for any hint of joy.
But Shenzhi didn't answer immediately. He didn't smile. He didn't hug her back.
Instead, his jaw tightened, and he gave a slight nod to his assistant, who silently stepped forward and handed him his phone.
"Watch this," Shenzhi said calmly, his voice eerily controlled.
Confused, Jiaxuan took the phone. The screen lit up with a grainy surveillance video. It showed her meeting Chen Yuze at a quiet cafe. The angle was discreet but clear enough to see the moment she handed him a file—the file.
She watched herself smiling, watched Yuze open the folder and beam with pride. She saw him lean in, praising her, his hand brushing hers briefly across the table.
Her smile faltered. She lifted her head slowly.
"Shenzhi…" she started.
"Explain," he cut her off, his gaze sharp, shoulders stiff with quiet tension. "Why did you give him the file? That file?"
Jiaxuan's throat tightened. "You told me to handle the file. You said you trusted me."
"I didn't tell you to hand it to your ex-lover in a public place," he snapped, his voice still quiet but slicing deep. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? Or were you just counting on me being too blind to see?"
"I wasn't—"
"Then tell me what that was," he stepped closer, lowering his voice to a near whisper, but his words burned. "Was this another one of your tricks? Another lie in a long chain of manipulations? Do you take me for a fool, Jiaxuan?"
"No," she whispered, shaking her head.
"Then explain it to me," he hissed, barely holding himself together. "Because my assistant just watched you hand my company's future to the man who wants to destroy me."
There was a long, heavy silence.
Jiaxuan stared at the phone in her hands, her chest rising and falling rapidly. And then, finally, she met his eyes again—not with guilt, but with something strange. Something unreadable.
"I knew you'd see it," she said, voice steady. "And I wanted you to."
Shenzhi blinked. "What?"
"I knew your assistant was following me. I knew you'd get that footage. And I knew you'd react exactly like this."
His eyes narrowed.
"That file," she added, "wasn't your file. It wasn't even my file. It was something else entirely."
Shenzhi looked stunned for a beat. Suspicion and uncertainty warred in his expression. He wasn't sure whether to feel betrayed or play along.
"You gave him a decoy?" he asked carefully.
Jiaxuan smiled faintly. "I gave him a gift. One he'll open in public. And when he does… everyone will know exactly what kind of man Chen Yuze is."
Shenzhi stared at her. Part disbelief. Part admiration. Part fear.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he murmured.
"Because," she said, stepping forward and brushing her fingers lightly against his sleeve, "I wanted to see if you still trust me."
Shenzhi stared at Jiaxuan, the silence stretching between them like a taut string ready to snap. His grip on the phone tightened.
"You knew I'd watch," he said slowly, voice rough. "You knew what it would look like. You let me think—for even a second—that you betrayed me."
"I needed to know if you would believe in me," Jiaxuan replied softly, not backing down. "You said you were testing me with that file… I had to prove you wrong."
"That's not a game, Jiaxuan," he bit out, stepping back. "This isn't some emotional power struggle between us. It's my company—my family's legacy—our lives!"
"I never once intended to risk it," she said. "You gave me that file because you didn't trust me, and I gave him a fake file because I wanted you to know I saw through both of you. I've never been the naïve woman you all think I am."
Shenzhi dragged a hand down his face, his mind racing. The presentation. The shock when the real file was still intact. Yuze's humiliation. The sudden clarity now seeping into his bones.
"Why didn't you just tell me the plan?" he asked again, this time quieter. "You don't think I would've helped?"
She took a breath, expression softening. "Because you didn't really trust me. And I didn't trust you enough to risk telling you. We're both still trapped in the past, in what we think of each other."
His eyes met hers—shadows dancing in them. Pain. Regret. Something dangerously close to admiration.
Chen Yuze's Reaction:
The boardroom was already clearing out, executives murmuring in disappointment, some casting sidelong glances at Chen Yuze as they left. The Meng Group representative had been polite but firm:
"This project is not aligned with our company's values or objectives. We are deeply disappointed, Mr. Chen."
Yuze stood frozen, the file still in his hand—now nothing more than a document filled with mismatched data, outdated graphs, and fabricated figures. All useless.
He had never even looked inside before the meeting.
His jaw clenched as the reality sank in: he had been played.
By Jiaxuan.
"That woman..." he hissed under his breath.
He slammed the folder shut and stalked out of the room, seething. His hands trembled—not just from humiliation, but from the realization that everything he thought he was controlling had slipped through his fingers.
And worse, he had no evidence to blame Shenzhi. No plagiarism. No sabotage. Nothing.
Just himself. And his pride.
Xu Rouluan's Fury:
Meanwhile, across the city, Xu Rouluan stood in front of her vanity, her phone on speaker as her mother rambled on in the background.
> "...you promised me, Rouluan. The Huo family was your path, your fate. You've disappointed me long enough—"
"Enough," Rouluan snapped, grabbing the perfume bottle and throwing it across the room. It shattered against the wall, spraying expensive glass like confetti.
The call cut off. She didn't care.
She had called Shenzhi's sister. She had called Chen Yuze. She had sewn the whispers, spread the rumors, and now—now—Jiaxuan had humiliated her.
Not only had she failed to trap her in a scandal, but Jiaxuan had twisted her own weapon and used it against them both.
"She thinks she's clever," Rouluan murmured through clenched teeth, eyes burning with venom. "But she's only delaying the inevitable."
She picked up her phone again and called Yuze.
He didn't answer.
She called again.
Still nothing.
Finally, on the third ring, he picked up. His voice was ice.
> "She lied to me. She gave me a fake file. You said she would betray him."
"She was supposed to. Maybe she still will," Rouluan said, trying to recover. "It just means we need to dig deeper. Push harder."
Silence.
"We'll destroy her," she whispered. "This time, I'll make sure she has no place to hide. I'll expose everything—fabricate what I must, pay who I must. That boy of hers... Yichen, right?"
Yuze's silence deepened.
"She wants to play loyal wife? I'll make her into the villain of her own story. And when Shenzhi sees the truth—when she's left with no one—I'll be the one he comes back to."
Whether it was revenge or obsession, even she wasn't sure anymore.
But one thing was certain: Xu Rouluan wasn't finished