Fall

Jiang Wei's POV

The atmosphere in the banquet hall is electric, humming with an undercurrent of power plays and silent negotiations.

Men in tailored suits swirl expensive liquor in crystal glasses, their laughter rich and calculated. Women in designer gowns flit between conversations, their eyes sharp despite the effortless elegance in their movements.

This is a place where alliances are forged, where whispers decide fortunes, where a single handshake could mean millions.

And I am right in the middle of it.

I move through the room with ease, offering polite smiles, shaking hands with executives, exchanging knowing glances with producers who once dismissed me as insignificant.

Not anymore.

They know my name now. They know my worth.

I sip my drink, relishing the shift in power.

At events like these, Jiang Yuxi was always a guaranteed presence.

She used to glide through these halls like royalty, her cold beauty and untouchable demeanor making heads turn.

But for the past few months? She's been a ghost.

Not a single sighting. Not even in minor events.

Even when the Jiang family reaches out to her, all she ever says is—

> "I'm working."

Working?

I scoff. As if.

She's hiding.

Hiding in shame, buried under the weight of her downfall.

And honestly? It's pathetic.

If she came crawling back, humbled, apologized to me—I might consider helping her.

Because unlike Qin Zhen, Jiang Yuxi never directly hurt me.

Sure, I despised her arrogance, the way she looked at me like I was beneath her.

But she was never my enemy. Just another obstacle.

And now that she's hit rock bottom?

She's no longer an obstacle at all.

From the corner of my eye, I notice Qin Zhen.

The once untouchable entertainment mogul.

Now? He's a desperate man in a failing suit.

I watch as he approaches a group of executives, men who once flattered him, sought his approval, followed his every command.

But now?

They barely acknowledge his presence.

They murmur a few polite words before turning their backs on him.

I smirk. How the mighty have fallen.

Qin Zhen's jaw tightens. His hands clench at his sides.

And then he retreats.

Heading toward the bar, his steps stiff with frustration.

I take my time, finishing my drink before following him.

He doesn't notice me at first.

His fingers tighten around his glass as he downs the liquor in a single gulp.

I step beside him, close enough that he has to acknowledge me.

> "That was embarrassing," I say, letting the words linger. "People who used to kiss your ass now treat you like a ghost."

Qin Zhen stiffens.

For a moment, I wonder if he's going to lash out.

If he's going to say something cruel, something sharp, something meant to put me back in my place.

But instead, he just glares at me.

And walks away.

> "This is just the beginning."

I don't raise my voice. I don't need to.

The words reach him anyway.

I see it in the way his shoulders tense.

The way his footsteps falter for just a second.

> "I will not rest until you are utterly destroyed."

I mean it.

Qin Zhen doesn't turn around.

But I know he heard me.

Because for the briefest moment—

He flinched.

And that?

That was enough.

Chapter 28: The Hollow Throne

Qin Zhen's POV

The sound of crystal glasses clinking, murmured conversations, and polite laughter echoes around me as I navigate the event.

Once, these rooms belonged to me.

Once, I commanded the attention of everyone here.

But tonight, I am a ghost.

***

Qin Zhen pov

I feel the weight of their stares—not of admiration or respect, but pity. Men who once clamored for my approval now avert their eyes.

Business partners who owed me their success now whisper behind my back.

Qin Zhen is finished.

Qin Zhen is drowning.

Qin Zhen is finally getting what he deserves.

The words are unspoken, but they are everywhere.

I feel them in every glance, in every half-hearted nod, in the way conversations die when I walk past.

I hate it.

I hate this weakness.

I was never meant to be pitied.Something inside me twists.

Not in anger.

Not even in hatred.

Just exhaustion.

Does it even matter anymore?

I walk away, my feet moving on autopilot.

The moment I'm outside, the cool night air does nothing to clear my mind.

I don't wait for my driver.

I climb into my own car, the leather interior silent, suffocating.

The engine hums softly as I pull onto the empty road.

City lights blur past. Neon reflections streak across the windshield like ghosts.

I don't know where I'm going.

I just drive.

I should be thinking of a plan. A counterattack. Something.

But all I feel is numb.

I grip the wheel, white-knuckled, but the pressure in my chest doesn't ease.

What is the point?

I pull over somewhere—a secluded lot near the river.

The city's distant skyline glows faintly, indifferent to my downfall.

I lean back against the headrest, closing my eyes.

For the first time in my life—

I feel small.

I reach into the glove compartment and pull out a bottle of whiskey.

A habit I never indulged before.

Weak men drink their problems away.

But right now?

I don't care.

I unscrew the cap and take a long, burning sip.

The warmth spreads through my chest, but it does nothing for the cold creeping into my bones.

> "What now?" I mutter to no one.

MEANWHILE, IN THE SYSTEM CORE…

> SYSTEM 404: [CHECKING PLOT INTEGRITY…]

SYSTEM 404: [PLOT STABLE. FINAL FALL OF THE VILLAIN CONFIRMED.]

SYSTEM 404: [PREDICTED PLOT COLLAPSE… 71%.]

…WAIT. WHAT?

> SYSTEM 404: [RECALCULATING… ERROR.]

SYSTEM 404: [NO ANOMALIES DETECTED.]

SYSTEM 404: [MALE LEAD'S REVENGE ARC PROCEEDING.]

SYSTEM 404: [VILLAIN DESTABILIZED.]

SYSTEM 404: [ALL MAJOR EVENTS IN PLACE.]

THEN WHY IS THE PLOT STABILITY DROPPING?

> SYSTEM 404: [SEARCHING FOR DISRUPTION…]

SYSTEM 404: [ERROR. HOST LOCATION UNKNOWN.]

SYSTEM 404: [ERROR. HOST BLOCK ACTIVE.]

SYSTEM 404: [ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.]

THE HOST HAS BEEN QUIET FOR TOO LONG.

THE HOST IS NEVER QUIET.

> SYSTEM 404: [PREDICTED HOST INTERFERENCE… 87%.]

SYSTEM 404: [WARNING. PLOT COLLAPSE IMMINENT.]

SYSTEM 404: [SHE'S COMING.]