The rain outside the window had unknowingly become dense, no longer the barely-there drizzle of the morning, but woven into a vast, gray net that covered all of Jiangzhou University.
Endless and unceasing.
Raindrops struck the glass of the Library discussion room, making an incessant “pitter-patter” sound that was enough to fray anyone’s nerves.
Fu Mingxuan stood in front of the window, his figure appearing especially tall and cold in the dim light of the cloudy day.
It was nearly five o’clock now, the sky already darkening, and the school anniversary was about to begin.
Even with the torrential rain outside, students could still be seen walking back and forth under umbrellas, heading into the Auditorium.
A faint, ambiguous smile hung at the corner of his mouth.
He didn’t turn on the lights, allowing the gloom inside and the gray daylight outside to blend together, hiding half of his face in shadow.
All the arrangements are in place.
Are you ready, my dear cousin?
He smiled to himself.
His gaze passed through the glass, looking at the dark, cloud-covered sky, as if he could see Fu Yi within those black clouds.
Fu Mingxuan’s fingertips unconsciously reached out toward that distant figure, but in the end, all he touched was the cold glass.
His eyes were deep and unreadable as they fell upon the outline of the Auditorium blurred by rain.
Nothing more can be seen, no matter how much you look.
A cool voice sounded behind Fu Mingxuan.
He did not turn around, nor did he reply.
Chen Jing sat not far behind him at a solid wooden table, the screen of her laptop emitting a cold, bluish glow.
In this dark room, the faint light from the computer was the only source of illumination around her, and the only light in the room.
Her fingers danced swiftly over the keyboard, the crisp and rhythmic tapping blending into a strange duet with the rain outside.
“Target confirmed to have entered the storage room on the top floor of the Library. It’s been over three hours, and there’s still no sign of leaving.”
Chen Jing’s voice was flat and emotionless, not caring in the slightest whether Fu Mingxuan ignored her, performing her work like a soulless laborer.
“The perimeter has been secured as you instructed. They didn’t alert the target.”
Hearing this, Fu Mingxuan nodded slightly, the smile at his lips deepening.
He did not turn around.
He continued speaking in a gentle tone.
“And her?”
It was obvious who “her” referred to.
“Miss Fu Yi is currently still in the Student Union office in the Main Building. She has temporarily taken charge of the Student Union, compensating for the gap between us for now. On the surface, there is no visible action.”
Chen Jing pushed her glasses up, the blue light from the screen gliding across her lenses as she organized the information on the computer.
“But we’ve detected that three security teams under her command have, over the past hour, used ‘facility inspection and process confirmation’ as a pretext to establish control over areas such as the backstage of the Auditorium and the adjacent Old Warehouse.”
“Yes…in a sense, their actions are highly targeted.”
She pushed her glasses up again, quickly summarizing.
Fu Mingxuan’s lips moved almost imperceptibly.
A cold smile flickered for an instant before disappearing, replaced by his trademark fake smile.
“Targeted, huh?”
He said nonchalantly.
“If they’re so motivated, then let’s give her a clearer objective.”
He slowly turned around, his voice suddenly becoming cold.
The daylight outside cast shifting shadows in his eyes, making them appear exceptionally sharp.
“Send out the gift.”
“Once the message spreads to the lower ranks, someone won’t be able to resist passing it on.”
At his words, Chen Jing nodded slightly.
Her slender fingers tapped the touchpad, pulling up a pre-edited message and sending it down the line to be relayed layer by layer.
“Confirming that Eve, due to sudden physical discomfort and exhaustion, has been secretly transferred to Studio 3 in the Old Art Building for rest. She is currently in a vulnerable, unprotected state, with a window of opportunity of about one to two hours.”
Chen Jing repeated this lie—one whose flaws were obvious at a glance—with her usual calm.
“Yes…then issue the directive. Done, execution complete.”
The Old Art Building.
It was a building that had been abandoned since Fu Mingxuan’s school days.
Due to various reasons, renovation plans had been repeatedly delayed, and now, few students at the university even knew of its existence, let alone its internal layout.
But Fu Mingxuan happened to know it well enough.
At first, the building hadn’t been abandoned and was still used by art students.
When he was in school, he’d often drop by the Art Building, pursuing a girl named Chen from the art department.
He only succeeded for a short while before breaking up with her.
What became of the girl afterwards, Fu Mingxuan had no interest in.
Not long after their breakup, the building was sealed off, and over the years, it had fallen into its current deserted state.
Fu Mingxuan didn’t care about the reasons for its abandonment.
He only knew the internal structure was complex, the corridors winding, and the studios well-soundproofed—indeed, it made a perfect trap.
He had laid some ambushes there, waiting for the prey to follow the bait into his net.
“She certainly won’t accept this kindness in full.”
Fu Mingxuan withdrew his gaze, walked over to the table, and picked up a sealed bottle of mineral water.
His knuckles turned white from the force he used, yet even so, he couldn’t open it.
Helplessly, Fu Mingxuan set the water down and continued as if nothing had happened.
“But she will definitely take action—sending people to investigate.”
“And as long as her forces are spread out and their attention diverted, the main course in the Auditorium can be served right to her.”
His expression was calm as he looked outside again.
The lights from the Auditorium shone into his eyes, but could not penetrate the darkness within his heart.
Let us speak of the other side.
***
At the same time, in the Student Union office of the Main Building, a different scene unfolded.
The soft yellow glow of the chandelier drove away the gloom outside, filling the air with a faint scent of Jin Junmei tea.
Fu Yi sat upright behind the wide rosewood desk, her back straight like an unbending bamboo stalk.
Spread before her was the schedule for the school anniversary gala.
Her slender, pale fingers held an elegant fountain pen, occasionally tapping softly on the paper, producing barely audible “tok tok” sounds that seemed to echo the rain outside.
She was alone in the office.
After reaching an agreement with the President, she had temporarily acquired this position.
Of course, Fu Yi cared little about the specifics of the school anniversary, merely glancing at the document before setting it aside.
Her true objective was the authority the Student Union could wield within the university.
After all, neither she nor Fu Mingxuan wanted things to escalate beyond control.
The functions of the Student Union happened to allow her to act within the campus to the greatest extent possible.
A “dong dong” knock sounded at the door.
Fu Yi responded.
The door opened, and Zhou Min entered, her steps light as she quickly approached the desk and bent slightly forward.
Her voice was very low.
“News from Zhao Qing—Fu Mingxuan released word that the Impostor Fu Yi, Eve, had been sent to the Old Art Building.”
“Zhao Qing thinks it’s fake, but doesn’t rule out the possibility of a double bluff.”
As she listened to Zhou Min’s report, Fu Yi’s tapping finger suddenly stilled.
She looked up, long eyelashes casting a small fan-shaped shadow under the lamp, her eyes as cool as black jade steeped in a cold pond.
“Oh?”
She let out a single syllable, the tail rising slightly in amusement and disdain.
“My cousin finally managed to put his rusting brain to work?”
Her gaze swept past Zhou Min, as if it could penetrate walls and see the old building standing silent in the rain.
But whether her words were truth or mere mockery was impossible to tell.
“Our observation points near the Old Art Building also reported seeing unfamiliar faces—non-university personnel—lingering in the area.”
“Their actions match the patterns of Fu Mingxuan’s subordinates.”
Zhou Min added, frowning slightly with concern.
Fu Yi didn’t respond immediately.
She set down her pen and lifted the white porcelain teacup beside her, feeling the warmth through the cup wall.
The rising tea aroma softened her cold features.
“Any news from Yu Qing?”
She ignored the false information released by Fu Mingxuan and suddenly inquired about Yu Qing, who had long been out of contact.
Her voice was steady, betraying no urgency—as if there was nothing wrong at all.
Yet the very act of asking was itself the greatest concern.