Hou Ning held the earpiece out to Zhu Yun again. She didn’t want to take it.

“Wu Zhen already walked away,” Hou Ning said. “Just listen — once you hear it, you won’t be jealous anymore. This is the real business.”

Zhu Yun took the earpiece. Inside she could hear the sound of high heels on the floor, but soon Wu Zhen reached somewhere quieter, lit a cigarette, and said: “He wouldn’t tell me anything.”

Another voice said: “Of course he wouldn’t if you asked directly.”

Zhu Yun’s back went cold the moment she heard Fang Zhijing’s voice — she recognized it immediately. She looked at Hou Ning. He raised a finger to his lips.

Almost immediately Wu Zhen shifted her tone again. “Then again, he did seem fairly interested in me. He gave me his contact details.”

Fang Zhijing laughed quietly. “Who wouldn’t be interested in you?”

Then came a stretch of damp, entangled sounds.

Wu Zhen said languidly: “But the most I’ll do is flirt with him. Don’t get any ideas about me actually doing anything with him — his attitude toward me is terrible. He’s nothing but a nouveau riche who’s made money on one project and thinks the world revolves around him. He smells too — cigarettes and sweat — I nearly choked. What a waste of those looks and that build.”

Fang Zhijing pressed against Wu Zhen’s lips and said: “Flirting is enough — go too deep and it’s easy to be caught out. Just remember: keep talking to him, get as much out of him as you can. You’re the best at this — you don’t need me to teach you.”

Wu Zhen pushed him. “What are you talking about — ‘getting things out’ of people. Everything I’ve done has been mutual.”

“Right, right, whatever you say.” Fang Zhijing murmured into Wu Zhen’s ear: “His people — the ones around him — avoid them if you can. None of them are harmless, especially their boss.”

Wu Zhen let out a lazy laugh. “Fine, I know. I’m going to sacrifice my looks for the cause. Shouldn’t you show a little appreciation?”

Fang Zhijing: “Of course. Jewelry, accessories — whatever you want.”

Wu Zhen made a dismissive sound. “Who cares about any of that?”

Fang Zhijing: “Then what do you want?”

Wu Zhen: “Shares, obviously.”

Fang Zhijing said nothing. Wu Zhen continued: “You’re gearing up for a stock market listing — don’t think I don’t know. Lao Gao in his current state has no fight left in him to go up against you. He works like a beast and earns less than a chicken, and in the end it’ll all come to nothing. I’m nothing like him. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily.”

Fang Zhijing laughed softly. “Don’t worry — you’ll get your share. Compared to Gao Jianhong, I think you and I make a much better team.”

They spoke a little more about the details of the listing. Their company currently had sufficient capital but lacked any flagship projects. Most of their games were impressive on the surface but showed steep declining metrics three to six months after launch, making it difficult to pass the regulatory commission’s review.

“If we had a project on par with Playboy, things would be very different,” Fang Zhijing said.

Wu Zhen: “Then just make one. You and Lao Gao both have programming backgrounds — what are you lacking compared to that upstart?”

Fang Zhijing went quiet for a moment, as though not quite sure how to answer Wu Zhen’s question.

Wu Zhen: “Lao Gao’s been locking himself in his room writing code every day now, saying he’s going to develop a game better than Playboy. He’s not eating or sleeping properly. Doesn’t he know his own situation? He’s really trying to kill himself.”

Fang Zhijing: “The thing is, their system is quite unique. It needs real development time, and we don’t have enough of that right now.”

“Useless,” Wu Zhen said without mercy. “Can’t deliver when it counts — and in the end it comes down to the women. Men.”

Fang Zhijing patiently coaxed her: “Of course — women hold up half the sky.”

Wu Zhen was put out. “Who are you calling ‘women’? By the time I reach the age of being called a wom—mmph—!”

Wu Zhen got cut off mid-word as Fang Zhijing sealed her lips.

Zhu Yun removed the earpiece and stared at the dusty corner of the stairwell for a long moment, unable to pull herself together.

“Li Xun planned it all,” Hou Ning said. “He knew Fang Zhijing would have his eye on Playboy. Li Xun’s system was entirely independently developed — breaking it down and replicating it takes time. The shell company Fang Zhijing is using for the backdoor listing, ‘Juxin Toys,’ has already published its draft asset reorganization plan and is currently in the review stage. Fang Zhijing is definitely trying to maximize the company’s revenue data in this window.”

Zhu Yun was quiet a moment, then asked: “Will the monitoring on Wu Zhen’s phone be discovered?”

“Absolutely not.” This was finally his area of expertise. Hou Ning straightened up confidently. “The software I installed was written by me personally. It can be remotely uninstalled and leaves no trace whatsoever.”

“You’re sure.”

“Of course.”

Zhu Yun said quietly: “This isn’t a small matter.”

Hou Ning: “Relax, there’s no way anything goes wrong.” He then lowered his voice: “Don’t tell Li Xun that I told you.”

Zhu Yun: “Told me what?”

Hou Ning: “Li Xun originally didn’t want me to tell you. Right now only the three of us know — me, him, and Dong Siyang.”

Zhu Yun: “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hou Ning looked at her for a moment. He was very thin — skin and bone — which made his eyes look unusually large. He gave her a shrewd look and said: “Do you genuinely not know, or are you pretending not to? What a waste for Li Xun, honestly. They’re not even together anymore, and he’s still walking on eggshells around your feelings. You don’t even take it seriously — and it’s made him lose all his swagger.”

Zhu Yun said nothing. Hou Ning said sarcastically: “And Political Commissar Zhu has a banner hanging in the office — you think I’m the only one who can see it? For someone like me, planting surveillance and tapping signals is just everyday stuff. But you don’t see it that way. Li Xun doesn’t want you to know he’s doing something underhanded.”

Zhu Yun: “This doesn’t count as underhanded. Fang Zhijing walked into this with bad intentions himself.”

“Oh, come on!” Hou Ning rolled his eyes. “Your principles are perfectly fine until Li Xun is involved, and then they go completely crooked! Exactly like Dong Siyang says — you can’t trust a word a woman says.”

Zhu Yun said coolly: “Do you want to go up to the roof for some fresh air again?”

Hou Ning shuddered involuntarily.

Zhu Yun said: “Send me a copy of any recordings of Wu Zhen’s meetings with Li Xun.”

Hou Ning looked at her slowly and said: “Fine, I can do that. But why do you want the recordings? Afraid?”

Zhu Yun: “What would I be afraid of?”

Hou Ning opened his eyes wide. “That sly fox is gorgeous. Li Xun has been shut away for six years. Tinder meets a flame — who can say for certain nothing will happen?” He said it while glancing sideways at Zhu Yun. She said: “Li Xun has very high standards when it comes to women.”

Hou Ning muttered: “Pot calling the kettle black.”

Zhu Yun looked at him for two seconds, then suddenly moved closer.

Hou Ning startled. He instinctively backed away, until he was against the wall with nowhere left to go.

He suddenly noticed that Zhu Yun’s eyelashes were very long — not deep black, but brownish-grey, fine and pointed. Her cheeks looked soft, her skin smooth and fine-pored. He caught a faint fragrance from her, and though she was dressed basically the same as Feiyang’s other employees — an ordinary T-shirt, barely any effort put into her appearance — her scent was ten thousand times more pleasant than theirs, and far better than the heavy perfume Wu Zhen had been wearing.

Zhu Yun said: “Li Xun only likes two types of women: the ‘naive type’ and the ‘even more naive type.’ Wu Zhen is neither.”

Hou Ning, uncomfortable with the proximity, shoved her away, face red as an apple.

“Then he definitely doesn’t like you!”

Zhu Yun smiled faintly and told Hou Ning to hurry up and pack his things.

When Hou Ning finished and looked up, he saw Zhu Yun leaning against the staircase railing, lost in thought, still with a trace of worry on her face. He assumed she was still fretting about whether everything would go smoothly, and said: “Don’t stress — it absolutely won’t be found out.”

Zhu Yun looked at him. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Hou Ning: “Then what are you worried about?”

She didn’t answer. They headed back out together, and just as they were about to enter the ballroom, she suddenly said: “Wu Zhen is Gao Jianhong’s wife.”

Hou Ning: “So?”

Zhu Yun: “They’ve only been married a little over a year.”

Hou Ning looked ahead into the ballroom. The Jili Company contingent was chatting warmly with the government officials. Wu Zhen had her arm in Gao Jianhong’s, and seemingly someone had made a joke, because her face was lightly flushed — and she glanced at Gao Jianhong with an expression full of happiness.

“Treacherous women, faithless performers,” Hou Ning said indifferently. “She’s both — and she gets to feel good about it? Blame your old classmate for being so blind.”

Zhu Yun watched Gao Jianhong from a distance. Unlike Fang Zhijing and Wu Zhen, he was barely smiling. That expression was one Zhu Yun knew well — it was the same look they all had back when the three of them were grinding on a project together. But now, surrounded by so many people, he was the only one with that look on his face. Set against all the smiling faces around him, his complexion seemed especially pale.

The private contest played out step by step, according to plan.

Li Xun would go out from time to time to meet with Wu Zhen, though he didn’t seem especially invested in it. More often than not, once he reached a stopping point in his work, he’d close the laptop lid, light a cigarette, and head out — going through the motions, nothing more.

His conversations with Wu Zhen had little substance either. Li Xun’s every other sentence was a crude joke. Wu Zhen found this man reasonably good-looking but found his attitude boorish and his mind seemingly occupied by nothing worthwhile. She endured the interactions patiently, pushing back against his advances without letting him get too close.

After a while, Li Xun asked Zhu Yun to send him Invincible Warrior‘s update materials and internal data. Zhu Yun knew the moment was probably drawing near.

One night, Li Xun came back to the office very late, looking terrible.

He returned without a word, collapsed onto the office sofa, and fell asleep.

Only Zhu Yun and Hou Ning were still at the office by that hour. Like Li Xun, Hou Ning had nowhere to go back to — from the day he started, he had been sleeping at the office alongside Li Xun, makeshift bedding and all.

“Done. He took the bait — she took the USB drive,” Hou Ning said. “Do you want me to send you today’s recording?”

“Don’t bother.”

“Really don’t want it?” Hou Ning said with a meaningful look. “Today’s content is pretty explosive.”

“What kind of content?”

Hou Ning curved his lips into a smile. “Have a listen yourself. All I’ll say is: heaven’s justice moves in cycles, and karma always comes around.”

While he was transferring the file, Zhu Yun got up to turn off the lights. She wanted Li Xun to be able to sleep more soundly, but Hou Ning called her back. “If you turn the lights off now, he’ll wake up. He’s not used to complete darkness.” Hou Ning was still at his computer, not looking up as he spoke.

Zhu Yun asked: “Why?”

“Why?” Hou Ning’s hands on the keyboard went still. He looked up. “Because in prison, the lights are on all the time.”

He looked at her: “You didn’t know that prison lights stay on twenty-four hours?”

Zhu Yun shook her head. Hou Ning made a dismissive sound. “No common sense. You can turn off the main lights — just leave the small lamp on.”

Zhu Yun followed his advice: she turned the small lamp on and switched off the overhead light.

She turned around and looked at Li Xun, lying on the sofa. The small lamp was dim, and its amber glow made the late-night office feel, for a moment, warm and intimate…

Or perhaps that was only her imagination.