Recap:Yuxi was lured to a trap posing as an audition, where she fought off a clone of herself and received a chilling message: "Someone sold you out." Meanwhile, Li Zeyan has begun his own private investigation, growing increasingly wary of the woman he married. Fenghao, their hidden son, has started uncovering encrypted files that suggest Yuxi's connection to a covert organization known as Black Lotus.
The morning sun filtered through a gray shroud of clouds, casting a pale light on the city skyline. Yuxi stood at the edge of her balcony, phone pressed to her ear, her voice low.
"I need a trace on this symbol," she said. "Black lotus. Burned at the center."
On the other end, an old voice crackled. "You were declared dead, Yuxi. If they're resurfacing now... it means someone knows the truth. The real mission."
Her eyes narrowed. "Then it's time they remember I don't forget."
She hung up and turned, only to freeze.
Li Zeyan stood in the doorway, arms crossed. His dark eyes bore into hers. "You didn't sleep here last night."
Yuxi's pulse quickened, but she kept her face neutral. "I had to prepare for a last-minute audition."
He stepped forward, gaze sharp. "Strange. No record of such an event exists. Not even underground. And my people... check everything."
There it was—his mask of indifference cracking.
Yuxi tilted her head, amused. "Are you having me followed, Mr. Li?"
He didn't flinch. "Should I be?"
The tension between them tightened like a wire. But before either could press further, his phone buzzed.
He frowned, glanced at it, and his brows furrowed. "We're expected at the Minglan Foundation Gala. Tonight."
"Gala?" she repeated, arching a brow. "You told me this marriage was for convenience. Now you want to play the loving husband in public?"
Zeyan's voice was low and deliberate. "Let's call it a test. For both of us."
That Evening – Minglan Foundation Gala
The red carpet shimmered with flashbulbs and whispered scandals. Celebrities, politicians, and media moguls filled the luxurious hall, each adorned in their best masks—figurative or otherwise.
But none outshone her.
Feng Yuxi descended the spiral staircase in a sapphire gown that clung to her curves like second skin. The crowd stilled. Gasps rippled through the room.
She walked beside Li Zeyan, poised, enigmatic.
"Who is that woman with him?"
"A new starlet? She walks like royalty..."
Yuxi heard every word but paid them no mind. Her attention was focused on the far end of the hall—where a man in a silver half-mask stood motionless, watching her.
Her blood ran cold.
Only one person ever wore that mask during missions: Silver Kite, a handler once believed dead.
Zeyan's hand touched the small of her back. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine," she murmured, eyes never leaving the masked man. "Just ghosts."
They made their way to the center table. The evening unfolded as expected—speeches, auctions, drinks. But Yuxi's senses stayed on high alert.
When Zeyan stepped away for a business toast, she moved swiftly through the side hallways.
She reached the rooftop.
And found him there.
"You're not dead," she said.
The man turned, lifting his silver mask slightly, revealing sharp cheekbones and a scar beneath his left eye.
"Neither are you, Phoenix."
Her fists clenched. "Who brought you back?"
His voice was dry. "Same one who sold us out. The Commander's not dead. He just changed sides."
Her mind reeled. "That's not possible. He was—"
"Shot by his own men. I saw it. Then I saw him walk into the enemy's arms two months later."
He reached into his coat and handed her a photo.
A grainy image showed her father. Her real father—General Feng—tied to a chair, bloodied but alive. Surrounded by figures with black lotus armbands.
She felt her legs go numb.
"This was taken five days ago," he said.
Yuxi gripped the edge of the rooftop wall to steady herself.
"I need more," she whispered.
"You'll get it. But be careful. You've been marked."
She looked up. "Marked by who?"
"Everyone," he said. "Even your husband."
Downstairs
Zeyan stood with a glass of whiskey in his hand, speaking politely to a government official. But his eyes flicked constantly toward the ballroom entrance.
Yuxi was gone.
Again.
"Mr. Li," said his assistant, whispering close. "The facial recognition scan from earlier just returned something interesting."
He handed over a tablet. Zeyan glanced at the image: a blurred shot of the masked man Yuxi had followed to the rooftop.
Beneath it: "Alias: Silver Kite. Status: Deceased. Classified Intelligence Clearance – Phoenix Division."
Zeyan's grip tightened around the glass until it cracked.
"What are you, Feng Yuxi...?"
Elsewhere, near the mansion district
Fenghao knelt on his bed, tablet open, coding faster than any ten-year-old should.
Lines of green text scrolled fast.
Suddenly—an alert blinked on his screen:"Unauthorized AI presence detected in Li Corp server."
He tapped in and froze.
An entity had just accessed his mother's contract file. And overwritten a clause.
With trembling hands, he read the replacement:
"Clause 6.3: Termination by Death – Spouse may legally annul all rights upon proof of defection or betrayal."
Beneath it:Amended by: Z.L.
"Z.L..."Zeyan Li.
His father?
His eyes widened in horror.
"Mommy… what is going on?"