The morning sun rose without mercy.
It poured through the glass towers of Horizon Gate, illuminating polished floors, mirrored walls, and faces that pretended nothing was wrong. But beneath the shine, the company was trembling — like a house built entirely of glass, beautiful and fragile, waiting for the first stone.
Li Wei arrived early.
He had not slept.
The truth he had uncovered still burned behind his eyes — every file, every buried memo, every signature that had sealed the Qiao family's destruction replayed in his mind like a cruel confession.
He no longer saw Horizon Gate as a company.
He saw it as a cage.
And Xinyue had survived it.
Xinyue watched him from a distance through internal surveillance feeds. His posture was rigid. His movements precise. But the calm he wore was brittle — ready to fracture at the slightest pressure.
Jun stood beside her. "He's carrying weight."
"Yes," she murmured. "Truth is heavy."
"And dangerous."
She didn't respond.
Li Wei requested a private meeting by noon.
This time, it was not arranged in cafés or open walkways. It was inside Horizon Gate — in a high-floor executive lounge lined with glass walls that overlooked the city like silent witnesses.
When Xinyue entered, Li Wei was already there.
He turned slowly.
"You knew," he said quietly.
She closed the door behind her. "Yes."
His jaw tightened. "They destroyed your family. They erased your life. And you walked away carrying all of that… alone."
"I walked away alive."
Silence settled between them — thick, fragile, unfinished.
"I'm supposed to report what I found," he said. "Legally. Officially. By tomorrow."
Her chest tightened — but her voice remained steady. "And will you?"
He looked at her like he used to — like he was trying to memorize her.
"I don't know."
She stepped closer. "If you do… Horizon Gate will burn publicly. But privately, they will survive. They always do. New names. New shells. New victims."
"And your way?"
"My way," she said softly, "ends the system."
He swallowed. "And what about you?"
She hesitated. "I don't survive my way."
The city shimmered below them, unaware of the war unfolding inside its glass towers.
"You taught me to believe in right and wrong," Li Wei said quietly. "You taught me to believe people deserve justice."
"And you taught me that justice doesn't protect the innocent," she replied. "It protects the powerful."
He reached out, stopping just short of touching her hand.
"I don't want to lose you again."
Her breath caught.
"You already did," she whispered. "You just didn't know it."
The glass walls reflected them — two figures standing inside a transparent cage built by secrets and pain.
Love had survived betrayal.
But survival was no longer enough.
Because sometimes…
To save the person you love,
You have to choose who burns.