Chapter 15: Unraveling Threads

Xinyi: A Pattern Emerges

The night's triumph had been brief.

Xinyi sat at the head of the long mahogany table, fingers interlocked, eyes scanning Zhao Rui's report. She had expected an update—perhaps confirmation that the situation was stabilizing.

Instead, the words on the page unraveled any illusion of control she might have held.

Three more workers had collapsed.

She exhaled, slow and measured, suppressing the irritation simmering beneath her ribs. This was no longer an anomaly.

Zhao Rui stood across from her, arms crossed, her usual composure barely masking her unease. "The doctors have no formal conclusions yet," she said, voice even. "But the families… they've started whispering."

Xinyi looked up. "Whispering about what?"

Zhao Rui hesitated. "They think it's… not natural."

A dull silence settled over the room.

Mei shifted slightly in her seat. "That sounds like—"

"I know what it sounds like." Xinyi cut her off, sharper than she intended. She inhaled, steadying herself. "Speculation will get us nowhere. What else?"

Zhao Rui tapped a finger against the stack of papers in her hand. "Some of the workers noticed small details before the collapses. Nothing definitive, but… strange things. An odd silence before the incidents. Machines running too smoothly."

Xinyi's fingers drummed against the polished surface of the table. Too smoothly. She had heard that phrase before.

Something was wrong.

And she needed to find out what—before the rumors did.

...

Wei: The Factory That Felt Too Perfect

Wei stepped into the factory, the sterile scent of metal and oil filling his lungs.

The air was thick—not with the usual hum of production, but with something heavier. Something uneasy.

Workers stood stiffly by their stations, hands busy, but eyes restless. Conversations stopped as he passed. Some glanced at him, others avoided looking entirely.

Beside him, Feng kept his voice low.

"Four workers collapsed."

Wei's stride didn't falter, but his jaw tensed. "I was told three."

Feng hesitated. "Another fell before we arrived."

Wei stopped. "Why wasn't I informed immediately?"

"The delay." Feng exhaled. "Fewer staff on weekends. It took longer to notice."

Unacceptable.

Wei's gaze swept over the factory floor. Everything was in place. Machines gleamed under the fluorescent lights, moving in their precise, mechanical rhythm. The air was cool, controlled.

Nothing was wrong.

And that was the problem.

His fingers flexed at his side, that familiar instinct whispering at the back of his mind. This wasn't just bad luck.

Feng cleared his throat. "CEO Zhang… Some of the workers—" He glanced around, cautious. "They aren't talking."

Wei stilled.

His gaze lifted, scanning the factory floor once more, but this time, looking beyond what was obvious.

They weren't just uneasy.

They were afraid.

He turned to Feng. "Gather them."

Feng blinked. "Sir?"

"The workers," Wei said, his voice steady. "Bring them to the break room."

...

The Speech

The break room wasn't large, but it held the weight of the moment. Wei stood before them, sleeves rolled up, no desk, no podium—just him and his workers.

Some wouldn't meet his eyes. Others looked exhausted, wary.

He let the silence stretch, forcing them to sit in it. A lesson his grandfather had taught him long ago—sometimes, it was the silence that made people speak.

Finally, he exhaled.

"I know you're afraid."

The words cut through the tension like a blade.

A few shifted, uncomfortable. Others finally looked up.

"I know something is wrong," he continued. "And I know you think it's safer to stay silent." His gaze moved across the room, steady, unreadable. "But silence doesn't protect you. It only protects whatever is causing this."

One of the older workers swallowed hard. "Sir, we—"

"If you don't want to say it here, fine." Wei's voice remained calm, firm. "But you will talk. If not now, then soon. And when you do, I expect the truth."

Another pause.

Then, slowly, a few heads nodded.

Wei turned to Feng. "Give them tomorrow off. Full pay."

That caught them off guard.

A younger worker hesitated. "CEO Zhang… is this going to happen again?"

Wei met his gaze.

"I don't let things repeat."

That was all he needed to say.

...

A Call That Shouldn't Be Made

Xinyi shut the folder, her mind already moving ahead of the conversation in the room.

This wasn't coincidence.

This wasn't just bad luck.

And it wasn't just happening to her.

She leaned back, pressing her knuckles against her lips in thought. The pieces weren't falling into place—they were scattering further.

She had thought about calling the elders, but what could they tell her? They knew as much as she did.

What she needed was someone who had once known more.

Someone she never thought she'd reach out to.

Her fingers hovered over the screen, then, with a quiet breath, she dialed.

The line rang once.

Twice.

Then, a voice—smooth, knowing, and laced with amusement.

"I was wondering when you'd call."