"Give me the drive," Su Lan demanded from the front passenger seat, her fingers dancing across a keyboard like a concert pianist.
I handed her the encrypted drive, my chest still heaving. Li Yan was beside me, his hand firmly interlaced with mine. He looked disheveled—his tie loose, his hair messy—and more alive than I'd ever seen him.
"She's already trying to wipe the server logs from her remote terminal," Su Lan hissed. "If she deletes the trail, our physical drive is just a hunk of metal. I need a distraction."
"I'll give her one," Li Yan said. He reached for his phone and opened the National Institute's public forum—the 'GitHub' of the academic world.
User L_Y_ChessMaster has started a Live Stream: 'The Truth About Blue-Pulse'.
"Li Yan, what are you doing?" I gasped. "You'll be blacklisted!"
"I don't care," he said, his eyes fixed on the camera. "If she wants to play in the light, let's give her a spotlight."
Thousands of viewers joined in seconds. Tech journalists, professors, and students watched as Li Yan held up the drive.
"My name is Li Yan, Head Fellow at the National Institute," he said, his voice calm and lethal. "Ten minutes ago, I retrieved evidence of intellectual property theft committed by Ying Yue. The 'Blue-Pulse' algorithm belongs to Xiao Xing. I have the original timestamps. I have the raw logic. And I have the recording of the 'Kill Switch' Ying Yue embedded to frame her."
Behind us, sirens wailed. Two patrol cars were gaining on us.
"Wei, the bridge!" Jia Yi shouted. "The drawbridge is starting to rise! If we don't make it, we're cornered!"
"Hold on to something!" Zhang Wei yelled.
The car roared, the engine screaming as we hit the incline of the rising bridge. For a split second, the "Seven Stars" were airborne—suspended between the dark sky and the cold river below. It was just like the high school annual day, but the stakes were our very lives.
We slammed onto the other side, the suspension groaning. The police cars skidded to a halt on the edge of the gap.
"We're clear," Lin Chen whispered, looking at his tablet. "And the stream... it's gone viral. Ying Yue's name is trending, but not for the reasons she wanted."
I looked at Li Yan. He was leaning back against the seat, his eyes closed, still holding my hand.
"You did it," I whispered.
"No," he opened his eyes, a soft, genuine smile breaking through. "The 'Seven Stars' did it. But the '98.2% Club' just took the lead."