Chapter 3: The Fire Beneath the Ashes

The morning broke over the city in streaks of dull gold and steel gray.

Inside the headquarters of Liang Steel Industries, the hum of an empire waking filled the halls—executives murmuring over coffee, secretaries typing at a rapid pace, and the subtle undercurrent of unease threading through the company's core.

Liang Xinyi strode through the glass-paneled corridors, sharp heels clicking against the polished floor, the scent of freshly brewed espresso from the executive lounge barely reaching her senses.

She had read the reports before coming in. She always did.

The factory worker's collapse had been neatly filed as a "medical incident" by HR, but it was far from buried.

A problem had arisen.

A public problem.

Her assistant, Mei, was already waiting in her office, a tablet in her hands, fingers poised but hesitant.

Not a good sign.

Xinyi took her seat, crossing one leg over the other, and rested her elbow against the desk. "Talk."

Mei took a steadying breath. "HR classified the incident as a personal health matter. They offered compensation to the family. The paperwork was finalized yesterday."

Xinyi nodded, unsurprised. Efficient. Contained. That was how it should have ended.

But it didn't.

Mei's lips pressed together. "The family went to the media this morning."

Silence.

Then—Xinyi blinked, once. "What did they say?"

Mei swiped across her tablet, pulling up the morning's headlines. "They're claiming foul play. That there's something wrong with the factory. They're suggesting more workers have fallen ill, but that management is covering it up."

Xinyi leaned forward, scanning the screen. "Steel Empire's Dark Secret: Liang Family Factory Worker Collapses Under Suspicious Circumstances."

A slow exhale.

"This is an escalation," Xinyi murmured. The family had taken the offer, then turned against them. That made them either desperate or reckless.

Neither option pleased her.

"Are there actual leaks inside the factory?" she asked, looking up sharply.

Mei shook her head. "Not that we've found. But…" She hesitated. "They could be telling the truth about other workers falling ill. I had records pulled—we've had three unexplained sick leave cases this month."

Xinyi's jaw tensed. Three. That was too many to ignore.

And yet, she refused to react out of fear. Fear was what caused mistakes. Fear was what had left her grandfather clutching jade charms for protection instead of finding real solutions.

She didn't do fear.

She did control.

Her eyes flicked back to the screen. Public opinion was forming. And if she didn't move fast, it would solidify.

She tapped her manicured nails against the desk. "We'll handle this two ways."

Mei straightened, ready.

"First, we release a public statement—short, neutral, and loaded with diplomatic non-admissions. Something along the lines of: 'We take the health and safety of our workers seriously. We are conducting an internal review and are in contact with the affected employee's family.'"

Mei nodded, already jotting down notes.

"Second…" Xinyi's gaze sharpened. "The family is either lying, being used, or knows something we don't. I want a full background check on them. Connections, debts, anyone they've spoken to. Discreetly."

"Yes, Ms. Liang."

Xinyi leaned back slightly. "I also want someone to speak to them directly. Not a lawyer. Not a corporate representative." She tilted her head. "Someone friendly. Persuasive."

Mei hesitated. "Should I send one of our legal advisors?"

"No," Xinyi said, decisive. "Send Zhao Rui."

Mei blinked. "Your second secretary?"

"She's charming, and people underestimate her," Xinyi said smoothly. "She's what we need—a person who looks harmless, but can get information."

Mei nodded. "Understood. I'll brief Zhao Rui and have her head to the family's residence today."

Xinyi exhaled, tension settling into something sharper. More manageable.

She would not allow this situation to spiral.

She had a curse to break.

She did not have time for distractions.

...

The Conversation That Changed Everything

The coffee shop was quiet. A neutral meeting ground, away from the press and corporate eyes.

Zhao Rui stirred her tea lazily as she observed Chen Zhihao. He was young—21, sharp-eyed, and calculating beneath his grief.

A journalism student. No wonder the media had gotten involved.

"You're Liang Steel's representative?" Zhihao asked, arms crossed.

"Not officially." Rui smiled. "I just wanted to understand what happened. It must have been hard seeing your brother collapse like that."

Zhihao's jaw tightened. "I just want the truth. There are rumors at the factory—other workers getting sick. If there's a real health risk, don't you think someone should investigate?"

Rui tilted her head. He was pushing. Testing.

"I can understand why you'd be concerned," she said gently. "But let's focus on what we know. From your statement, your brother didn't report any symptoms before collapsing."

Zhihao's expression darkened. "He… he mentioned feeling strange. But no pain. He just… stopped. Like his body gave up."

"And the shadows?" Rui pressed, feigning casual curiosity.

Zhihao hesitated, fingers tightening on the coffee cup. "Yeah. He said he saw something before it happened. Dark shapes moving at the edge of his vision. But none of the other workers saw them."

Rui nodded slowly. A neurological phenomenon.

"The doctors reviewed his case," she said, measured. "What he saw was likely pre-syncope hallucination. Before fainting, the brain sometimes misfires—causing shadow-like distortions in vision."

Zhihao frowned. "Then why hasn't this happened before?"

Rui set her tea down. "Maybe it has. But no one thought much of it."

Silence stretched between them.

Chen Zhihao didn't look convinced.

But Zhao Rui had heard enough.

Three workers. Three unexplained leaves. Now this.

This wasn't over.