The Bai residence was far too calm for what Bai Lanyue carried in her hands.
The late sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden haze across the pristine marble floor. But nothing about her expression matched that warmth. Her heels echoed like a countdown, deliberate, sharp, unforgiving.
In her grasp, a slim black file. Untouched. Unopened. But screaming with the weight of truth.
The sitting room was filled with muted conversation. Wen Qing draped lazily on the settee, flipping through her phone. Madam Bai stirring her tea absentmindedly, eyes distant. Mr. Bai skimming the headlines of a finance column.
Lanyue didn't wait to be addressed. She stepped in and dropped the file on the glass table with a soft thud — a sound far too small for the storm it promised.
Wen Qing's gaze flicked up, narrowing. "What's this now?"
Lanyue's lips curled, but there was no humor. "Something from the dead."
That got their attention.
Mr. Bai lowered his newspaper slowly. Madam Bai paused mid-stir. Wen Qing sat straighter.
"I paid someone to pull it out of Huaying Correctional Home's rot," Lanyue said, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeve. "Not much was left. But this… survived."
"What are you implying?" Madam Bai asked carefully, her voice a little too even.
"I'm not implying." Lanyue looked directly at her mother. "I'm stating. Before the end of this week, I'm going to peel back the last five years. And if I'm right…" She tapped the file with her nail. "Then our family's golden lie is about to rot in the open."
Mr. Bai's brows pulled into a frown. " have you read what's in there."
"I don't need to. Not yet." Her eyes gleamed. "I don't need to know what I already suspect."
Wen Qing leaned forward, her voice low and cutting. "You really think Bai Zhiqi is back?"
"I think the veiled musician is no ghost," Lanyue replied coldly. "And if she's wearing a veil, there's a reason."
Madam Bai's fingers curled around her teacup. "You've always had a flair for drama, Lanyue."
"No," she said softly, "that was Zhiqi's talent. I just learned from the best."
Silence rippled through the room like poison in still water.
Mr. Bai's jaw was tight now. "Be careful what you stir. There's a reason that girl disappeared. Let the past die."
Lanyue smiled thinly. "She didn't die. That's the problem."
Wen Qing crossed her arms. "And what if it's not her? What if you're wrong and you drag this family through hell for nothing?"
"Then hell will be a good warm-up," she whispered, "for what would've happened if I stayed silent."
No one moved. The file sat there like a ticking bomb, ink and paper threatening to bleed through the silence.
Madam Bai's voice dropped. "You want to declare war?"
Lanyue turned to her, eyes ice. "No. I want to win it."
She picked up the file without looking at it. "I'll read it when I'm ready. For now, I just thought you all deserved a warning."
Wen Qing's eyes narrowed. "What's your plan?"
"I'm going to expose her," Lanyue said, voice like broken glass wrapped in silk. "On my terms. Before the week ends."
"And if the Ji family gets involved?" Mr. Bai asked, quiet now.
Lanyue met his gaze.
"Then they fall with her."
And with that, she walked out — the file clutched like a blade against her ribs.
Behind her, the Bai household didn't speak. The room remained still.
But the air had shifted.
Like the calm before a storm that would drown everything.