CHAPTER 111: CHAPTER 111; PAYING LU ZEYAN A VISIT 9

"This is bad," he said quietly, more to himself than to her. "This is really, really bad."

Shuyin moved closer, slow and careful, like approaching a wounded animal. She placed a comforting hand on his arm, her touch light but warm. "We’ll get through it," she said softly, infusing her voice with hope and determination. "Together. Like we used to handle everything together."

He looked at her, and god, the conflict in his eyes was almost painful to witness. He wanted so desperately to believe her, to believe this could be fixed, to believe he could control the situation like he’d controlled everything else in his perfectly managed life. But there was doubt there too, creeping in around the edges. Suspicion. Fear.

"Your eyes," he said suddenly, latching onto something practical, something he could address. "People are going to ask about your eyes. Why did they change color? That’s going to come up."

"We tell them the truth," Shuyin said smoothly, already having thought this through. "About the poison in prison. We can get medical records if needed, show that I was hospitalized, and make it part of the narrative about how much I suffered. The physical evidence of trauma. It’ll generate sympathy."

Lu Zeyan nodded slowly, his analytical mind engaging with the problem. "Yeah. Yeah, that could work. Victim of a miscarriage of justice who nearly died in prison, with visible permanent effects from the attack... People will eat that up. It makes you more sympathetic, more real. Not just a story but a person with actual scars."

His phone buzzed. Then again. Then it started ringing nonstop, a cascade of calls from different numbers, different contacts, all wanting answers, all demanding to know what the hell was happening to the golden boy of the Lu family.

He ignored them all, his focus entirely on the computer screen as he pulled up more posts, more articles, more evidence of his carefully constructed reputation crumbling in real-time. Each refresh brought new horrors, think pieces about corruption, analyses of the evidence, and amateur investigators on social media connecting dots he’d thought were safely disconnected.

"Who would do this?" he muttered, almost to himself, scrolling through the endless condemnation. "Who has access to this kind of information? Who would have the resources and motivation to....."

"I don’t know, Zeyan," Shuyin interrupted gently, her voice confused and helpful. "Probably people who were in court today earlier this morning? The records are public, aren’t they? Maybe someone finally decided to actually look at them closely. Maybe a journalist, or a legal advocate, or just someone who cared about justice."

She made it sound so innocent, so plausible. Not a coordinated attack by someone with unlimited resources and a personal vendetta. Just... the system finally works the way it was supposed to.

Lu Zeyan was about to respond when his phone screen lit up with another incoming call. This one made his stomach drop even further.

Lin Yueling.

The pregnant girlfriend he’d been keeping secret. The sister of the woman standing in his office right now. The complication he couldn’t afford to deal with when his entire life was already on fire.

He stared at the phone for a second too long, and Shuyin saw the name. Saw him hesitate. Saw the flash of panic cross his face.

"You should answer that," she said quietly.

He grabbed the phone like it was burning him, jabbing the answer button with more force than necessary. "What’s the matter?" His voice came out sharp, irritated, he wasn’t in any mood to entertain anyone, and wasn’t in any mood to handle yet another crisis.

"Our intimate photos have been posted online and I’m getting scolded!" Lin Yueling’s voice came through the speaker, high-pitched and panicked, loud enough that Shuyin could hear every word even standing several feet away. "People are saying horrible things about me, about us! My image is completely ruined! What do I do, Zeyan? What do we do?"

Lu Zeyan closed his eyes for a brief second, and Shuyin watched something break inside him. Not completely, not yet, but another crack in the foundation, another piece of his perfect life crumbling away.

When he opened his eyes again, they looked haunted.

"What photos?" he asked, even though some part of him already knew. "What are you talking about?"

And as Lin Yueling started explaining through her tears, as the full scope of the disaster began to dawn on him, Shuyin stood quietly by and watched.

Watched him realize that this wasn’t just one problem he could solve.

It was everything. All at once. Perfectly timed. Perfectly coordinated.

Perfectly designed to destroy him.

And the best part? He still didn’t know who was behind it.

He still thought this was random bad luck, a coincidence, justice catching up.

He had no idea his ’wife to be’ had orchestrated every single piece.

Shuyin allowed herself the smallest smile.

The trap was working perfectly.

"Check Weibo! Check anywhere! They’re everywhere!"

His free hand flew across the keyboard, pulling up new search terms with the frantic energy of someone looking for a fire exit in a burning building. And there they were, the images he’d been dreading since the moment this nightmare started.

He and Yueling were at the entrance of her apartment building. The lighting was dim, clearly taken at night, but the faces were unmistakable. His hand on her waist, possessive and familiar. She reached up to kiss him, her body pressed against his. Another shot of him leaving early in the morning, looking rumpled and satisfied in that way that told an entire story without a single word.

The timestamps were recent. Last week. While Shuyin was still in prison, still suffering behind bars for crimes she didn’t commit.

Thank God, thank God her stomach wasn’t visible in any of them. The angles were careful, the shots cropped or taken from positions that strategically hid her pregnancy. Whoever had leaked these had either gotten extraordinarily lucky or had been very selective about which photos to release. Strategic. Calculated.