Meilin’s Masquerade

Huo Meilin's heels clicked like gunshots across the polished floor of Eclipse, Shanghai's most exclusive club, nestled in the heart of Xintiandi's neon maze. A crystal chandelier shattered light across masked elites, their laughter drowned by pulsing EDM, but Meilin's smile was a blade—sharp, cold, and aimed at Huo Jingran. Her phone buzzed in her clutch, an X post breaking through the noise: Jingran Huo Spotted at Bund—Sorcery Scandal Escalates? A blurry video showed Jingran's runes flaring against fox constructs, trending with #TrashHeiress. Meilin's grin widened. Her sister—adopted, unwanted—was walking into Xiwen's midnight trap, and Meilin was here to fan the flames.

"She's done," Meilin murmured, adjusting her silver mask, its fox motif a nod to her new ally. "No seal, no comeback."

A voice purred beside her, low and amused. "Confident, Miss Huo? Your sister's got nine lives."

Meilin turned, her silk gown catching the light, to face Zhao Wenxu. The Suzhou clan heir lounged in a velvet booth, his black mask glinting with jade inlays, his suit screaming wealth and secrets. His eyes—too sharp, too knowing—locked on hers, and Meilin's pulse skipped. Zhao's deal at the estate promised Jingran's ruin, but his calm unnerved her. He wasn't just Xiwen's pawn; he was playing his own game.

"Don't underestimate me, Zhao," Meilin said, sliding into the booth, her voice honey over venom. "Jingran's at the Bund now, bleeding and desperate. Xiwen's constructs will shred her."

Zhao sipped his whiskey, mask tilted to reveal a smirk. "Xiwen's constructs are flashy, but sloppy. Jingran's pendant's a problem—HuoTech's old magic, waking up. You saw her runes."

Meilin's fingers tightened on her clutch, the memory of Jingran's estate fight—green light, fox screams—burning her pride. Her parents, Guangli and Qiongyu, had called Jingran a curse, disowned her publicly, yet she kept crawling back, stealing Meilin's spotlight. The Huo legacy—her birthright—was slipping, and Zhao's words stung.

"She's a fraud," Meilin spat, leaning closer. "A stray my family pitied. I've got proof—HuoTech files, old deals with Bei. Jingran's playing sorceress, but I'll bury her as a liar."

Zhao's brow arched, intrigued. "Files? Bold, Meilin. But proof cuts both ways. Your family's not clean—those deals tie Guangli to sorcery, too."

Meilin froze, her mask hiding a flicker of panic. She'd found the files in her mother's safe—contracts linking HuoTech to Bei Innovations, pre-dating Jingran's adoption. They proved the sabotage wasn't Jingran's fault, but also exposed Guangli's greed, his role in hiding the jade seal. Meilin planned to leak just enough to frame Jingran, but Zhao's hint meant he knew more than she'd shared.

"Don't threaten me," she said, voice low. "You need me to control the Huos."

Zhao laughed, soft but dangerous. "Need? No, Miss Huo. I want you—for now. Keep your parents in line, and I'll make Jingran a memory. Deal's still on."

Meilin's lips curled, masking unease. "Then give me something—now. Xiwen's moving, and I'm not sitting idle."

Zhao slid a USB across the table, its jade casing gleaming. "Video, edited. Jingran at the ruins, runes blazing, no context. Post it after the Bund. It'll paint her as a danger—Shanghai's elites will eat it up."

Meilin snatched it, her grin feral. "Perfect. She'll be canceled by dawn."

The club's lights dimmed, a new beat dropping, and masked dancers swirled, their shadows fox-like. Meilin's phone buzzed again—an X message from an anonymous account: Jingran's fighting. You're next. No emoji, just ice.

Her breath caught, eyes darting to Zhao. "You see this?"

He glanced at her screen, smile fading. "Someone's chatty. Not Xiwen—she's too busy. Ignore it."

Meilin didn't buy it. The estate text—Secrets cut both ways—had shaken her, and this felt… personal. Jingran? No, she was cornered at the Bund. Someone else, watching her, maybe Guangli's old enemies. The Huo name drew vultures, and Meilin was exposed.

She stood, smoothing her gown. "I'm posting now—screw waiting. Jingran's done."

Zhao grabbed her wrist, gentle but firm. "Patience, Meilin. Midnight's close. Let Xiwen break her first."

Meilin yanked free, glaring. "Don't touch me. I'm not your pawn."

His eyes glinted, amused. "Pawn? You're a queen—act like it."

She stormed to the bar, heart pounding, and drafted an X post: Jingran's lies unravel tonight. Huo legacy stays pure. #NotMySister. Her finger hovered, Zhao's warning echoing, but rage won. She hit send, watching likes flood in—her followers, Shanghai's elite, eating her bait.

The club's air shifted, heavy, like static before a storm. A dancer's mask caught her eye—fox eyes, too real, glowing amber. Meilin blinked, and it was gone, but her skin crawled. Zhao was watching, sipping his drink, and she felt alone, despite the crowd.

"Jingran," she whispered, clutching the USB. "You're finished."

Fog choked the Bund as Huo Jingran dove behind a riverbank statue, the jade seal's glow her only light against three fox constructs. Their claws tore earth, Xiwen's voice—You're too late, Huo—ringing in her ears. Her leg bled, mana drain throbbed in her skull, but the Jade Protocol Core's rune pulsed beneath the Huangpu's bank, so close. Teng Haoran fired his proto-gun, blue arcs scattering a fox, while Shao Lanyi hacked from a bench, her laptop's glow a beacon.

"Some party, Xiwen!" Jingran yelled, throwing a blade rune. It hit a construct's core, sparking, but the others charged, tails whipping like lightning.

Haoran grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Core's priority, Jingran—not banter!"

"Says the guy bleeding too," she quipped, dodging a claw. His arm was slashed, but his eyes burned, steadying her. Not the time, heart.

Her pendant blared: Jade Whisper alert: Core access imminent. Constructs weakening—ley line surge required. Success chance: 63%.

"Sixty-three?" Jingran groaned, seal blazing. "My dice are rigged!"

Focus, Host. Channel seal to riverbank rune.

Lanyi shouted, "Got a signal—ley lines spiking! Core's right there!" She pointed to the glowing rune, half-buried in mud.

Jingran sprinted, runes shielding her. A fox lunged, but Haoran's pulse stunned it, giving her seconds. She slammed the seal against the Core's rune, light exploding—green, blinding. Data flooded her mind: ley line grids, HuoTech's betrayal, the Core's power to control Shanghai's tech. Her head screamed, mana drain nearly dropping her.

The constructs faltered, one dissolving, but the third roared, claws grazing her back. Jingran gasped, falling, seal clutched tight. Haoran tackled the fox, pinning it with a broken pipe. "Go!" he yelled.

Lanyi ran to her, yanking her up. "Core's live—hack it now!"

Jingran focused, runes linking seal to Core. The system chimed: Access granted—partial. Ley line control fragment secured.

The last foxes vanished, Xiwen's laugh fading: "Not bad, Huo. Enjoy your crumbs."

Jingran panted, back stinging. "Crumbs? I'm baking a whole cake, witch."

Haoran limped over, bloodied but standing. "You're impossible," he said, almost fond.

"Guilty," Jingran grinned, but Lanyi's phone buzzed, killing the mood. An X post—Meilin's: Jingran's lies unravel tonight. #NotMySister.

Jingran's gut twisted. "Meilin's at it again."

Lanyi scrolled, frowning. "It's worse—video's out. You, runes, looking… witchy. It's viral."

Jingran's pendant hummed, uneasy, and a shadow moved—hooded, glasses glinting. Mingxu. He stepped forward, tablet glowing, voice soft. "Nice work, Jingran. Too bad it's not enough."

Her seal flared, the system warning: Ambush confirmed—Lu Mingxu's intent hostile.

Jingran raised the seal, grinning fierce. "Round three, nerd? Let's speedrun this."