Chapter Fifty-Seven – The First Lie He Believed
Morning broke reluctantly, as if the sky itself was unsure whether it wanted to witness what Horizon Gate was becoming.
A pale mist hovered over the river, and the towers of the corporate district emerged from it like watchful giants, silent and severe. Inside the upper floors of the Horizon Gate complex, Li Wei stood alone in a glass-walled conference room, studying a digital board filled with behavioral timelines, system audits, and encrypted anomalies.
He had only been back in the city for four days — and already, nothing about Horizon Gate felt stable.
Every department told a different story. Logs contradicted reports. Emails vanished mid-thread. Data trails bent in unnatural ways. The company wasn't simply malfunctioning — it was being quietly, precisely guided into failure.
And the closer he looked, the more one name refused to leave his thoughts.
Xinyue.
Her return into his life hadn't felt coincidental. It felt calculated. The woman who once trembled at thunder now moved through storms like she owned the sky. The softness he remembered was still there — he could see it in the brief pauses between her words — but it had been wrapped in steel.
He didn't want to believe she was responsible.
So he started with a lie.
Li Wei opened an internal audit channel and flagged a mid-level logistics manager named Han — the same executive who had recently clashed with his department head. On paper, Han was an easy scapegoat: recently promoted, overly ambitious, careless with protocol.
Li Wei reclassified Han as a "person of interest."
Not because the evidence demanded it — but because his heart did.
He told himself he was simply starting with the most visible fracture. But deep down, he knew the truth: He wasn't ready to point his investigation in the direction it truly needed to go.
He wasn't ready to aim it at her.
Across the city, Xinyue watched the update in real time.
Her systems flagged the audit reclassification within seconds. The shift in Li Wei's investigative trajectory was subtle — but unmistakable. He had deviated from the statistically optimal path.
She leaned back slowly in her chair.
He had chosen safety.
He had chosen her.
A faint smile curved her lips — one that carried both relief and something dangerously close to pain.
Jun stood behind her, arms folded. "He redirected."
"Yes," she murmured. "He's protecting a memory instead of following data."
"That's dangerous," Jun said.
"So is love."
That evening, Li Wei requested another meeting.
They walked along the river this time — no guards, no official schedules, only soft lights reflecting across dark water. The city hummed quietly around them, pretending it wasn't unraveling.
"You didn't answer my question," he said finally.
Xinyue slowed her steps. "Some questions destroy what they touch."
He stopped walking.
"I need to know if you're safe."
Her chest tightened. "You always wanted to save people."
"And you always told me I couldn't save you."
Their eyes met.
"I never wanted to disappear," she said softly. "I was pushed into shadows."
His voice dropped. "By who?"
She hesitated — just enough to make the lie believable.
"By Horizon Gate."
It wasn't the full truth.
But it was close enough to wound.
His jaw tightened. "Then whoever is manipulating this company… they're not your ally."
Her gaze flickered. "Maybe they're trying to burn the cage down."
He studied her face — searching, hoping — and finally nodded.
He believed her.
And in doing so, he unknowingly made his first fatal mistake.
Because the lie he had chosen to protect… was the very fire destroying everything around them.