The penthouse was quiet—at least on the surface.
But Ji Lanxue was not.
She sat cross-legged on the sofa, three devices spread out in front of her—her phone, her tablet, and a laptop—all lit up with the same thing.
Comments.
Videos.
Trending topics.
Her fingers moved quickly, scrolling, opening, switching between screens like someone watching the climax of a drama she had personally directed.
"Oh, this is good," she muttered, eyes bright.
Scroll.
"Very good."
Scroll.
"Oh—this one is ruthless."
A clip replayed on her screen—Bai Lanyue's expression, frozen at the moment everything fell apart.
Ji Lanxue paused it.
Zoomed in.
Then leaned back with a satisfied hum.
"Perfect timing," she said to herself.
Another tab opened.
More comments.
More reactions.
More people digging into the past.
"They're connecting it already…" she whispered, almost impressed. "Faster than I thought."
Her lips curved into a slow, pleased smile.
Not smug.
Not surprised.
Just… satisfied.
She picked up her phone, typing quickly.
Then stopped.
Paused.
Looked toward the hallway.
"…No," she murmured.
A grin spread across her face.
"This is too good to send."
She stood up immediately.
No hesitation.
Barefoot, as always, moving quickly across the floor.
"Zhiqi!" she called out as she walked.
Not loud.
But urgent.
Excited.
She didn't bother knocking.
She pushed the door open slightly.
Bai Zhiqi was inside, standing by the window, the city lights stretching endlessly beyond her.
She turned at the sound.
Ji Lanxue stepped in, already holding her phone up.
"You need to see this."
Bai Zhiqi raised a brow slightly.
"What is it?"
Ji Lanxue walked straight to her, practically glowing with energy.
"The internet," she said. "They're doing our job for us."
She placed the phone in Bai Zhiqi's hand.
The screen showed endless comments.
Clips.
Threads.
Every angle of the banquet dissected.
Every truth pulled apart and laid bare.
Bai Zhiqi's eyes moved across the screen.
Quiet.
Focused.
Ji Lanxue watched her reaction closely.
Waiting.
"They believe it," she said, unable to hide the satisfaction in her voice. "Not just the confession—the whole thing. They're questioning everything now."
She leaned slightly closer.
"They're questioning the Bai family."
A pause.
"They should," Bai Zhiqi said calmly.
Ji Lanxue smiled.
"That's my line."
She took her phone back, scrolling again.
"Look at this one," she said, turning the screen slightly.
"They're already bringing up old reports. Timelines, inconsistencies… everything we needed people to notice."
Bai Zhiqi didn't react strongly.
But her gaze lingered on the screen.
"For five years," Ji Lanxue continued, more softly now, "no one looked closely."
A small pause.
"And now they can't stop."
Silence settled briefly between them.
Then Ji Lanxue nudged her lightly.
"You're trending, by the way."
Bai Zhiqi blinked once. "That doesn't matter."
"It does a little," Ji Lanxue said, grinning. "Public opinion is already shifting. That makes everything easier."
She studied Bai Zhiqi for a second.
Then added, softer—
"You don't have to fight alone anymore."
Bai Zhiqi didn't answer immediately.
Her eyes moved once more over the screen.
Then she handed the phone back.
"Good," she said simply.
Ji Lanxue tilted her head.
"That's it?"
Bai Zhiqi looked at her.
Calm.
Steady.
"This is just the beginning."
Ji Lanxue's smile widened.
"Exactly."
She turned, already walking back toward the living room.
"Then let's not waste the momentum," she called over her shoulder. "We have a lot more to do."
Behind her, Bai Zhiqi remained by the window.
The city lights flickered below.
The world was watching now.
Talking.
Reacting.
And for the first time—
The truth was no longer something hidden.
It was moving.
Growing.
Spreading.
And this time—
They were ready for it.