Lu Chen sat in his cold, unyielding office chair, the hefty dossier before him—aptly described as the "epitaph to one's career"—spread open on his desk. His fingertips traced the slightly coarse leather cover of the file almost unconsciously as sunlight poured in through the vast glass wall, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his face, which bore the contradictory marks of extreme fatigue and heightened alertness.
Within the entire open-plan office of Team A—and even in the neighboring Team B—King Hai's dramatic, deeply humiliating "final ultimatum" from yesterday had settled like a spectral presence, blending anticipation with pity. Lu Chen was painfully aware of well over a dozen eyes trained on him like surgical lamps, scrutinizing him from every angle, as though eager to dissect this doomed underling and witness his final, pathetic struggle before he was crushed.
He turned each page of the dossier with deliberate slowness. Every sheet felt like a heavy tombstone, etched with the painful "chronicles of defeat" suffered by one sales star after another before the formidable Jiang Wanxing—her complaints and demands so exacting, unreasonable, and occasionally verging on the psychotic that they read like relics of a cruel obsession.
One veteran salesperson, who had served the company for nearly a decade, wrote in his debrief:
"This VIP client (Jiang Wanxing) is domineering to the point of paranoia. She refuses to heed any reasonable explanation or suggestion, scrutinizes every detail well beyond typical business standards, and her true aim seems less about resolving issues than deriving a perverse pleasure from exercising control. Unless the company's Founder-Chairman personally comes to plead and atone, hope for salvaging this deal is virtually nonexistent."
A young female salesperson with a privileged background—confident enough to volunteer boldly—was publicly humiliated by Jiang Wanxing's caustic barbs, bursting into tears and smudging her designer makeup before submitting an internal complaint:
"Jiang Wanxing abused her VIP status to hurl personal insults of an intensely offensive nature. I suspect serious psychological issues. I strongly recommend involving Legal and reevaluating any cooperation with such a 'mentally unstable' client."
That young woman promptly resigned, unwilling to endure such indignity.
Most staggering of all was a "top-secret" memo: the company had dispatched a self-styled "dream team" led by the Deputy Marketing Director, flanked by the Sales Division's ace manager and a senior PR specialist, to negotiate a nine-figure annual strategic agreement. Their downfall came when that iron-fisted deputy director accidentally knocked his coffee cup over during a meeting, splattering a luxury European-brand white dress. Jiang Wanxing flew into a rage, hurling the scalding cup—and the painstakingly drafted contract—at his face, and abruptly terminated all existing and future cooperation.
One debacle after another, the dossier laid bare the near-suicidal odds of this assignment and just how fearsome and unyielding Jiang Wanxing truly was.
As he read on, Lu Chen's spirits sank deeper, a cold sweat beading at his back. The dry, clinical accounts of failure and despair seemed to bleed from the page, conveying the utter helplessness of every predecessor who had dared confront Jiang Wanxing. King Hai had tossed this "hot potato," this sugar-coated—or rather, time-bombed—career killer into Lu Chen's lap without so much as a flinch. His malicious intent and cruelty were laid bare, provoking in Lu Chen a sense of mortal peril: this was no path to success, but a guaranteed one-way ticket to professional extinction.
Desperation, dark and frigid as the tide of a winter sea, tightened around Lu Chen's fragile heart, threatening to crush his very breath.
Then, amid the suffocating haze of despair, a familiar, almost painful prickling sensation—like countless steel needles probing his mind—surfaced. The latent power of his "Heart-Hunting Technique" stirred, offering both torment and hope. What if he could uncover the true motives behind Jiang Wanxing's so-called "unreasonable" demands? What if, beneath her merciless veneer, he could detect her deepest needs, her hidden vulnerabilities—perhaps even her fatal flaw?
That thought sparked like a single ember in a parched prairie, igniting a fierce blaze of determination in the core of his nearly broken spirit.
But Jiang Wanxing remained ensconced in her lofty realm, far beyond Lu Chen's reach. He had not even met her in person—and yet the culprit who had thrown him into this abyss, King Hai, occupied a glass-paneled office directly ahead. Lu Chen's gaze sharpened into twin blades of ice as he stared at King Hai, who lounged with unabashed satisfaction, sipping tea from his signature thermos and chuckling at something unspeakably vulgar on his computer screen. His demeanor betrayed the smug anticipation of witnessing Lu Chen's downfall at the hands of the "female devil" Jiang Wanxing.
Why had King Hai gone to such lengths—such reckless lengths—to saddle him with this "dead-man-walking" assignment? Was it mere vengeance for Lu Chen's recent perceived insubordination? Or did King Hai simply despise him and wish to see him gone?
No—Lu Chen's intuition, sharpened by the recent activations of his "Heart-Hunting Technique," cried out that there was more to this intrigue. King Hai, spiteful though he was, was no fool; his willingness to offend even the senior Director Shen by dumping this "super problem" on Lu Chen suggested deeper, hidden motives.
If only Lu Chen could peer into King Hai's heart—if he could unmask those secret schemes, perhaps he might discover a slender thread of hope, the very opportunity for counterattack.
His heart pounded at the thought. Drawing on his last reserves of will, he closed the dossier on Jiang Wanxing, rose deliberately, straightened his plain but spotless white shirt collar, and strode with measured steps toward King Hai's office.
He rapped once—neither too loud nor too soft—on the polished mahogany door.
"Who is it? Can't you see I'm busy? Get in!" snarled King Hai, the heat in his voice betraying irritation.
Lu Chen entered, face composed. The room reeked of cheap tobacco and stale tea, the desk cluttered with haphazard files and self-help trinkets. On the wall hung an ostentatious "Success" embroidery, ironic against King Hai's shifty expression.
"Oh, it's you," King Hai muttered, barely glancing up. "Finished that so-called dossier on CEO Jiang? Don't tell me you think this is a walk in the park, and you're here to wow me with your grand plan? Or have you finally realized your place and come to beg for mercy?"
Lu Chen ignored the taunt. With calm humility and a hint of strategic dependency, he spoke:
"Section Chief Wang, I've thoroughly reviewed the materials on Jiang Wanxing's case and consulted several predecessors. Frankly, I'm at a loss. May I ask what you believe is the core issue driving her dissatisfaction? And…what is the true stance of senior management—Director Shen in particular—on this matter? Where does the company's bottom line for negotiation lie? Understanding these points would allow me to tailor my next steps and, I hope, live up to the 'high expectations' placed on me."
As he spoke, Lu Chen summoned his "Heart-Hunting Technique," casting an invisible net into King Hai's mind. Instantly, a tidal wave of dissonant thoughts and emotions assaulted him—dizzying, agonizing, yet strangely exhilarating.
Caught in that mental tempest, he discerned the jagged truth hidden beneath King Hai's swagger: terror, anxiety, and a fervent desire to shift the blame onto him, the rookie. King Hai's private thoughts screamed:
"That damned Lu Chen is a jinx! If she exposes our so-called 'core-technology defect' claim, I'll be the one punished—losing my position, my bonuses, even facing lawsuits! I can't let him find out the real stakes. I'll make him take the fall and shield myself behind his failure."
Lu Chen's pulse thundered with triumph. The mask of authority King Hai wore shattered under those revelations. He realized this was his opening: King Hai's fear itself could be wielded against him.
Suppressing the pounding in his skull, Lu Chen continued in a low, respectful tone:
"Section Chief, given CEO Jiang's claim of product defects and potential colossal damages, do we have any legal or technical grounds to counter her? Alternatively, what maximum concessions is the company prepared to offer? For instance, is there room for flexibility on the 'irregular discount' she demands?"
At the mention of "core-technology defect," "huge compensation," and—most dangerously—"irregular discount," King Hai paled. His hand trembled over his treasured thermos. How had Lu Chen divined that concealed secret—his unauthorized promise to Jiang Wanxing that could cost him everything?
Lu Chen sensed King Hai's inner panic: had Director Shen sent Lu Chen as a probe? Or had Jiang Wanxing already leaked the truth higher up? A stampede of dread filled King Hai's mind, but he marshaled his composure and bellowed:
"Silence! Do you think you should be privy to this level of detail? Your task is simple: do whatever it takes to satisfy Jiang Wanxing. No support from the company—figure it out yourself! If you can't solve crises independently, you're not fit to work here!"
Yet beneath that bluster, Lu Chen again perceived King Hai's rawest thought:
"Anything but giving real concessions! I'd rather pay out of my own pocket than see my bonus vanish and my reputation ruined. And that Lu Chen… he's acting oddly, like he can see into my mind. Damnation!"
He had him. Lu Chen's silent exultation welled up at this realization: King Hai was no master strategist but a paper tiger, trembling behind his façade.
Masking his elation, Lu Chen nodded thoughtfully:
"Understood, Section Chief. I won't fail you or the company."
He emphasized "won't fail" and "high expectations," each syllable a mental chisel striking at King Hai's fraying nerves. Without another word, he turned and exited, leaving King Hai's office still suffused with intrigue and foul machinations.
Back at his solitary workstation, Lu Chen reopened the Jiang Wanxing dossier. Her sharp, haughty eyes in the photograph no longer seemed unreachable; they beckoned him like a hidden mine of secrets waiting to be unearthed. And King Hai—the cunning serpent who had unwittingly revealed his darkest fears—now stood exposed as the first quarry for Lu Chen's "Heart-Hunting Technique."
Three days remained. One gamble would decide life or death.
Lu Chen's lips curved into a cold, precise smile—ice laced with hellish intent. He knew the risks: a single misstep meant certain doom. Yet the clarity and power born of fully understanding his adversary's heart steadied him. He would wager everything on this final play.
His true counterattack began now.