Qu Yueli's heart jackhammered as the gala's last stragglers spilled into Shanghai's neon-drenched night. She stood frozen near a shattered ice sculpture, the jade pendant at her neck humming like a rogue graphics card about to fry. Bei Xiwen's parting glare—those eyes, too sharp, too wrong—burned in her mind, paired with that memory flash: a fox spirit's laugh, a chant, and Xiwen's voice weaving something dark.
"Sorcery?" Yueli muttered, dodging a waiter hauling a tray of half-eaten canapés. "In 2025 Shanghai? What's next, dragons in the stock market?"
The pendant's cool voice cut through her thoughts: Jade Whisper system update: Task assigned—Investigate Bei Xiwen's sorcery. Reward: Unlock memory archive. Penalty: Public exposure as a fraud.
Yueli snorted, adjusting her prosecco-soaked dress, which was now clinging in all the wrong places. "Public exposure? I'm already trending as 'Gala Disaster Girl.' Try harder, you glorified Tamagotchi."
Warning: Hostile presence detected. Evasive action recommended.
"Hostile?" Yueli's eyes darted across the emptying ballroom. Teng Haoran was gone, probably off brooding in a penthouse somewhere. The paparazzi had scattered, but a man in a black suit lingered near the bar, his gaze locked on her. He was one of Xiwen's—same guy she'd whispered to before vanishing. His vibe screamed corporate thug with a side of creepy.
"Nope," Yueli said, spinning on her torture-heel stilettos. "Not sticking around for the goon squad."
She bolted for a side exit, weaving past a table of abandoned champagne flutes. The pendant pulsed, guiding her like a quest marker in an RPG. Exit left. Avoid detection.
"Wow, thanks, Captain Obvious," she hissed, shoving through a velvet curtain. The door led to a service corridor—dim, narrow, and smelling faintly of bleach. Her heels clacked traitorously loud, echoing like a horror game soundtrack.
Behind her, the curtain rustled. Black Suit was following.
Yueli's gamer instincts screamed stealth mode. She kicked off her heels, wincing as her bare feet hit cold tile, and ducked behind a stack of catering crates. Her dress sparkled traitorously in the dark, and she cursed Jingran's taste. "Who wears sequins to a takedown? Amateur."
The system chimed: Suggestion: Use environment. Distraction increases escape odds by 47%.
Yueli grinned, spotting a tray of leftover dessert cups on a crate. She grabbed one—mango mousse, fancy as hell—and lobbed it over the crates. It splattered with a satisfying splat, followed by Black Suit's startled grunt.
"Take that, budget henchman!" she whispered, darting for the corridor's end. The pendant glowed brighter, and a new memory flickered: Jingran's voice, desperate, begging someone about the pendant. It's not junk—it's alive!
Yueli stumbled, head spinning. "Alive? Okay, this thing's officially creepier than my old roommate's ferret."
The corridor split—left to a loading dock, right to what looked like a VIP lounge. The system pinged: Right. Safe zone detected.
She veered right, bursting into a plush room with leather couches, a private bar, and floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing Shanghai's skyline. The Bund's lights glittered like a cyberpunk fever dream, but Yueli's relief died fast.
Leaning against the bar, sipping a whiskey, was Teng Haoran.
Yueli froze. "You've got to be kidding me."
He glanced up, one brow arched like she'd crashed his private brooding session. "Miss Huo. Sneaking through service corridors now? Your scandals are getting creative."
She straightened, brushing mango mousse off her hands. "Just, uh, taking the scenic route. You know, avoiding… fans."
His eyes flicked to her bare feet, then her disheveled dress. "Fans. Right."
Yueli's cheeks burned, but she rallied with a grin. "What's your excuse, Mr. CEO? Hiding from Xiwen's puppy eyes?"
His lips twitched—score one for her. "I don't hide," he said, setting his glass down. "But I do wonder why you're running from Bei Xiwen's security."
Her grin faltered. How does he know? The pendant hummed, warningly: Caution: Teng Haoran's motives unclear. Ally probability 62%, threat probability 38%.
"Great," she muttered. "My life's a dating sim with no save button."
Teng Haoran stepped closer, his cologne hitting her again—sandalwood and danger. "Muttering again, Miss Huo? Or is that pendant talking to you?"
Yueli's hand flew to the jade, heart lurching. "Pendant? What? Just a… family trinket. Totally normal. Not haunted or anything, haha."
His gaze sharpened, like he'd caught her glitching. "Normal trinkets don't glow."
Before she could bluff, the lounge door slammed open. Black Suit stormed in, flanked by a second goon. Both had earpieces and the kind of blank stares that screamed paid to not ask questions.
"Miss Huo," Black Suit said, voice flat. "Miss Bei requests your presence. Now."
Yueli backed toward the windows, clutching the pendant. "Yeah, hard pass. Tell your boss I'm booked—forever."
Teng Haoran moved, subtle but deliberate, positioning himself between her and the goons. "She's with me," he said, tone icy. "Leave."
The goons hesitated, exchanging looks. Black Suit sneered. "Mr. Teng, this doesn't concern you."
"Wrong," Haoran said. "It concerns me when you barge into my lounge."
Yueli blinked. His lounge? She glanced at him, catching a flicker of something—amusement? Annoyance? Either way, he was her ticket out.
The system chimed: Opportunity: Leverage Teng Haoran. Success chance 71% if you appeal to his ego.
Yueli sidled closer to him, channeling every drama queen NPC she'd ever coded. "Mr. Teng's right. I'm his… VIP guest. Mess with me, you mess with Teng Enterprises." She paused, then added with a smirk, "Unless you want your paychecks canceled."
Haoran's brow twitched, but he didn't correct her. The goons wavered, then backed off, muttering into their earpieces. Black Suit shot her a look that promised trouble, then they vanished.
Yueli exhaled, slumping against a couch. "Well, that was fun. Remind me to never crash another gala."
Haoran turned, his stare pinning her. "You're welcome. Now explain why Xiwen's men are hunting you."
She opened her mouth, then shut it. Because she's a sorceress framing me in a novel plot wasn't exactly a winning pitch. The pendant pulsed, and the system offered: Partial truth recommended. Build trust.
Yueli sighed. "Fine. Xiwen's got it out for me—big surprise. I think she set up tonight's mess to tank my rep for good. Happy?"
He studied her, unreadable. "Your rep was tanked years ago, Miss Huo. Why escalate now?"
She bristled—Jingran's memories stung, full of headlines calling her a failure. "Maybe she's scared I'm not staying down."
His lips quirked. "Bold. Stupid, but bold."
"Gee, thanks," she said, rolling her eyes. "Any other compliments, or can I borrow your driver to escape this soap opera?"
He didn't answer, just crossed to the bar and poured a second whiskey. "Sit. You're not leaving until I know you're not a liability."
Yueli plopped onto a couch, muttering, "Bossy much?" But she stayed. Haoran wasn't just a hot CEO—he was sharp, and if Xiwen was playing supernatural games, Yueli needed allies, not enemies.
The pendant hummed again, and a new memory hit: Jingran in a dark office, clutching the pendant as a woman—not Xiwen—whispered, It's tied to the Bei clan. Break their spell, or you're doomed. The vision cut off, leaving Yueli dizzy.
"Yo, Jade Whisper," she hissed under her breath, "a little warning next time?"
Haoran glanced over. "Still talking to yourself?"
"Nope! Just… practicing my TED Talk," she said, flashing a grin. He didn't buy it, but he let it slide.
The system pinged: New clue: Bei clan's sorcery linked to Shanghai's tech boom. Investigate Huo Jingran's failed startup for leads.
Yueli's mind raced. Jingran's startup—HuoTech—had crashed after a data breach blamed on her. Tabloids called it incompetence, but what if it was sabotage? Xiwen's family owned Bei Innovations, HuoTech's rival. Sorcery in tech? It sounded nuts, but so did transmigrating.
She stood, pacing. "Mr. Teng, random question. You know anything about HuoTech's collapse?"
His glass paused mid-sip. "Why?"
"Just curious," she said, too casual. "Heard it was… messy."
He set the glass down, eyes narrowing. "Messy's generous. A breach like that? Either gross negligence or someone wanted it dead."
Yueli's pulse quickened. Someone. "Any guesses who?"
He leaned back, studying her like a puzzle. "You tell me, Miss Huo. You were there."
Jingran's memories offered nothing—vague fights, boardroom glares. Yueli shrugged. "Memory's fuzzy. Too many martinis, you know?"
His snort was almost a laugh. "Convenient."
Before she could dig deeper, her phone—Jingran's, sleek and way fancier than Yueli's old brick—buzzed. A text from an unknown number: Huo Jingran, stop digging. Next time, no one saves you.
Yueli's stomach dropped. She glanced at Haoran, who hadn't seen it. The pendant burned, and the system warned: Threat level rising. Sender linked to Bei Xiwen.
"Great," she muttered. "Now I've got a stalker and a magic rock."
Haoran's voice cut in, sharp. "Problem?"
She shoved the phone in her clutch, forcing a smile. "Just spam. You know, 'Win a yacht!' stuff."
He didn't buy it, but a knock interrupted—a woman in a sharp blazer, his assistant. "Mr. Teng, your 11 p.m. call's ready."
He nodded, then turned to Yueli. "Stay out of trouble, Miss Huo. Or don't—I could use the entertainment."
She grinned despite herself. "No promises."
As he left, the lounge felt colder. Yueli sank onto the couch, pulling out the pendant. It glowed brighter, etching faint runes into the air. The system chimed: Task progress: 20%. New lead—HuoTech's server logs. Access required within 24 hours.
Yueli groaned. "Server logs? I'm a villainess, not a sysadmin."
Her phone buzzed again. Another text: Look behind you.
She spun, heart in her throat. The lounge was empty, but outside the window, a shadow moved—too fast, too wrong. Fox eyes glinted in the dark, then vanished.
Yueli clutched the pendant, whispering, "Okay, Xiwen. Game on."