The correctional home stood quiet under a dull, unmoving sky.
Inside, everything was stripped down—
sound,
color,
comfort.
Ji Yanluo walked through the corridor with unhurried steps, his presence drawing brief glances from guards who quickly looked away. The air carried a stillness that pressed in from all sides.
A door opened.
Then closed behind him.
Bai Lanyue was already seated.
She looked different.
Not broken.
Not disheveled.
Just… sharper.
Like something unnecessary had been carved away, leaving only what mattered.
When she saw him, her lips curved slightly.
Not in surprise.
In expectation.
"I was wondering when you'd come," she said.
Ji Yanluo took the seat across from her.
No greeting.
No wasted motion.
Bai Lanyue studied him for a moment.
Then leaned back slightly, her posture relaxed, almost comfortable.
"Let me guess," she said lightly. "You're here for justice."
A faint pause.
"Or is it closure?"
Ji Yanluo's gaze remained steady.
"Neither."
That made her smile widen.
"Then this should be interesting."
Silence stretched between them—but it wasn't heavy.
It was measured.
Like two people already aware of the rules.
"You've seen everything," she continued. "The videos, the confessions… the public outrage."
She tilted her head slightly.
"And yet you still came here."
Ji Yanluo didn't respond immediately.
"I came to see if you would say anything different," he said at last.
Bai Lanyue let out a quiet laugh.
"Different?" she repeated. "Why would I?"
She leaned forward slightly now, resting her arms on the table.
"The truth is already out there," she said. "Or at least… the version of it people are satisfied with."
Her eyes met his.
Sharp.
Unapologetic.
"But you didn't come here for that," she added softly.
Ji Yanluo's gaze didn't waver.
"You orchestrated everything," he said.
Bai Lanyue didn't deny it.
She didn't confirm it either.
Instead, she smiled.
"I finished what I started," she replied.
A pause.
"And I did it well."
The words didn't carry regret.
Only pride.
Ji Yanluo's expression remained unchanged.
"You destroyed her life."
Bai Lanyue's eyes flickered.
Not with guilt.
But irritation.
"Don't make it sound so one-sided," she said.
Her voice cooled.
"She had something I needed," she continued. "And she was in the way."
A beat.
"So I moved her."
The simplicity of it—
Was what made it cruel.
Ji Yanluo leaned back slightly.
Still calm.
"You're not sorry."
Bai Lanyue let out a soft breath.
"No," she said.
No hesitation.
No disguise.
"Would it change anything if I said I was?" she added.
He didn't answer.
She smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
Silence returned.
Then Bai Lanyue's gaze sharpened slightly.
"She's with you now," she said.
Not a question.
Ji Yanluo didn't respond.
But he didn't need to.
Bai Lanyue watched him carefully.
Then laughed softly.
"How predictable," she murmured.
"She always had that effect," she added. "People either pitied her… or protected her."
Her eyes darkened slightly.
"You chose your side."
Ji Yanluo's voice was calm.
"I chose the truth."
That made her smile again.
"No," she said quietly.
"You chose her."
The words landed with precision.
But Ji Yanluo didn't react.
Bai Lanyue leaned back again, completely at ease now.
"You know what's interesting?" she continued. "Everyone's acting like this is over."
A soft laugh.
"It's not."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table.
Once.
Twice.
"You think exposure is the end?" she asked. "That public opinion decides everything?"
She shook her head slowly.
"It doesn't."
Ji Yanluo stood.
"Then what does?"
Bai Lanyue looked up at him.
Her smile returned.
Slow.
Knowing.
"Time," she said.
A pause.
"And people's attention."
Her gaze held his.
Unshaken.
"They'll move on," she continued. "They always do."
Another pause.
"And when they do…"
Her voice lowered slightly.
"What do you think she'll have left?"
Silence.
Ji Yanluo didn't answer.
He turned.
Walked toward the door.
Behind him, Bai Lanyue spoke again.
"Tell her something for me."
He stopped.
But didn't turn.
Bai Lanyue's voice was softer now.
But not weaker.
"She survived once."
A pause.
"Let's see if she can do it again."
The door opened.
Then closed.
And Bai Lanyue remained where she was—
calm,
composed,
and completely unrepentant.
Because to her—
This wasn't an ending.
It was just another phase of the game.