Drip—beads of sweat slid from Fu Jinghan's finely curved chin, disappearing into his suit fabric in an instant. The air conditioner's cold breeze intensified, piercing through his jacket, stirring a chill that raised every hair on his spine. Only then did Fu Jinghan realize he was drenched in sweat.
Fu Liangmu immediately took off his coat and wrapped Su Wanwan in it, his tone sharp.
"Ziyang, what are you doing?"
Fu Ziyang, holding the air conditioner remote, pointed toward Fu Jinghan.
"Look at Jinghan's forehead—sweat is streaming down in torrents. He must be overheated!"
Fu Liangmu smiled ambiguously, his smile colder than the air itself. His grin was insincere; a layer of icy malice flickered in his eyes.
Trembling, Fu Jinghan fumbled in his pocket for a handkerchief, shakily wiping the sweat from his brow, only for more to pour forth. He looked at the employees and, resigned, softened his tone.
"Could you all please step outside for a moment?"
"This is a shareholders' meeting room, not a place you can enter at will," the employees defended him.
"Director, rest assured, we won't let you suffer injustice!"
"Exactly!"
Seeing their stubbornness, Fu Jinghan's expression hardened.
"Everyone out! Do you want to be fired?"
To his surprise, the crowd responded defiantly,
"If the company really covers this up, then being fired doesn't matter!"
"Right! I wouldn't want to stay in a company like this anyway!"
The old master, leaning on his cane, spoke slowly,
"Cover up? What exactly are you implying?"
"The design labeled Number One is clearly superior. Number Two's votes suddenly skyrocketed late last night!"
"Isn't that a cover-up?" Fu Jinghan's scalp tingled.
"Enough! Stop this at once!"
The old master inquired calmly,
"So you prefer Design One? You believe it's more worthy of the director position?"
"Yes!"
He nodded deliberately, eyes smiling warmly as they landed on Su Wanwan.
"Very well, I hereby declare the winner of the first round is… Su Wanwan."
The room fell silent in disbelief, then erupted into furious protests.
"What do you mean by this, Chairman?"
"Blatant favoritism!"
Yan Wenhua growled, unable to hold back,
"What favoritism? Design One was originally created by Su Wanwan!"
Everyone recoiled in shock, stepping back.
"Impossible!"
"Do you mean they switched the designs so Su Wanwan could claim the position legitimately?"
"Director, speak up! We all trust you!"
Fu Jinghan's teeth clenched as he met their burning gazes, drawing a deep breath. Their words seemed to awaken a realization within him. In their minds, he was the victim all along. If he played into their assumptions now, would they finally believe him unconditionally?
"At this point, I have no choice but to confess…"
"The first design was indeed created by my own hand…"
He bowed his head abruptly, unable to meet the old master's sudden dark and furious stare. There was no other way… none at all.
The employees, as if provoked to their breaking point, sharpened their tongues, arrogantly dissecting the situation.
"No wonder it was anonymous—clearly a fallback!"
"Whether Design One or Two wins, they'd claim it was Su Wanwan's work."
"We weren't even present; it's easy to deceive us."
Their anger grew with every word. Someone pulled a pen from their pocket and hurled it at Su Wanwan, disdain dripping from their voices.
"Su Wanwan! You don't belong in this company! Get out!"
Just as the pen was about to strike her head, a slender, pale hand shot up and caught it firmly.
Fu Liangmu sat beside her, his expression icy, eyes blazing with lethal intent. Slowly, he extended a finger, pointing at someone.
"You. Step forward."
The woman who threw the pen recoiled behind others. With so many around, how could Fu Liangmu possibly have singled her out?
Rising to his full, elegant height, Fu Liangmu's suppressed voice resonated with a suffocating, almost deathly chill, as if summoned from the depths of hell.
"Do you want me to handle this personally?"
"The woman in the third row with two hair clips—come out."
The woman hesitated, touched her hair, heart pounding fiercely. She had indeed been caught.
Gritting her teeth, she stepped forward.
"So what if I threw it? It was clearly Su Wanwan who—"
Before she could finish, Fu Liangmu raised his hand. The woman screamed, fearing a blow, but instead, Fu Liangmu tossed his phone to Fu Ziyang.
"Play it."
Fu Ziyang quickly connected the phone to the projector and opened a video. The surveillance footage lasted two hours, the camera perfectly positioned above Su Wanwan and Fu Jinghan's heads.
Fu Jinghan trembled violently, looking up in shock. The dim, lightless ceiling cracks concealed a tiny pinhole camera, recording every moment of their design process with crystal clarity.
The two-hour footage played without fast-forward or speed alteration.
Everyone watched silently—from indifferent at first, to astonished midway, then utterly disbelieving by the end.
The entire conference room was deathly silent.
Had they not seen it with their own eyes, they wouldn't believe Su Wanwan had designed it.
Had they not seen it themselves, they wouldn't believe anyone could complete such a flawless design so swiftly.
Fu Jinghan's knees buckled. He collapsed to the floor, eyes wide with terror, face contorted.
It was over… he was truly finished this time.
Su Wanwan rested her chin on her hand, initially intrigued, then gradually sleepy, leaning against Fu Liangmu's shoulder and dozing off.
Until the old master struck his cane heavily, the dull sound echoing through the room.
With an authoritative voice, he slowly proclaimed,
"Now, do you believe?"
"We believe…"
So it was Fu Jinghan who had been rallying votes all along. No wonder he tried so desperately to drive them away and slander Su Wanwan once exposed. Without Fu Liangmu's footage, they might have fallen for Fu Jinghan's deceit.
For a moment, all eyes fixed on Fu Jinghan, their expressions a complex mixture of disbelief and contempt.