The fallout came not with a bang, but in the form of data.
At 8:42 a.m., Lin Feng received the investor confidence report. It wasn't flashy—just a quiet uptick in percentage points and a line of new private messages. One from Yi Group. Another from Weng Investment. A third from a previously neutral party: An Xi International.
Each message echoed the same thing without saying it directly:
"You didn't break."
And more importantly:
"We'd like to talk."
Lin didn't smile. He didn't lean back with smugness. Instead, he calmly forwarded the contacts to Mei Li with a simple instruction.
"Arrange exploratory calls. No binding terms. Just presence."
She nodded, already moving.
His phone buzzed again. This time, it was a photo—a press shot from last night's Crimson Circle dinner. The image had captured him mid-pour, wine glass tilted, face unreadable. To most, it looked insignificant. But to those within Jinghua's elite circles, it said everything.
No panic. No defense. Just control.