Chapter 7

22.

After that, I took away my brother's phone.

With nothing much to do at home, he started learning to cook for me. It wasn't very good at first, but I always finished every bite.

He woke up early in the mornings and grew mint and tomatoes by the windowsill.

His life was like a shattered porcelain cup glued back together—fragile, on the verge of collapse—but he clung to it with all his strength.

We occasionally fought during that time, mostly because our father had thrown another wrench into my plans. I started talking to my brother less, afraid I'd lash out and bring my anger down on him.

He would silently stand outside my study, watching me until I finished my work, then cautiously ask, "Have you eaten yet?"

"How about sweet and sour ribs later, okay?"

I knew he wasn't good at cooking. That dish—sweet and sour ribs—he made it several times before finally getting the sugar and vinegar ratio right.

After that, whenever I looked upset, he'd make that dish.

He no longer wore the restrictive suits that once wrapped around him like shackles. Now he wore loose home clothes, an apron around his waist, standing at the stove with oil splattering on his face.

And I stood at the kitchen door, suddenly feeling a tightness in my chest and a sting behind my eyes.

I understood then: until I completely brought down our father, all of this was just a bubble, ready to burst at any moment.

23.

Power struggles are never honorable duels—they're a sudden arrow to the heart.

And I decided to aim that arrow at the thing he was most proud of.

His most trusted deputy was Pei Kezhou, a man he had handpicked and promoted when he was young.

Three years ago, if it hadn't been for my mother's intervention, he would've been utterly ruined by a sexual harassment scandal.

I never understood why she let him go. But now I do—she'd been waiting for the right knife, the right trap.

I met with Pei Kezhou personally.

No lawyers, no bodyguards.

Just the two of us, in a side room of the old Pei family winery.

"I'm fighting my father," I said quietly as I sat down. "Did you know that?"

His face shifted slightly, but he said nothing.

"Do you want to go down with him?" I looked up at him. "Or are you scared? Scared of what you've done being exposed? I have the original recording from three years ago."

"You're threatening me?" He gave a light laugh. "Your father won't give you that chance."

I laughed too. "Do you really think he'll protect you forever? Right now, he's scrambling to manage the equity transfer. The fake accounts he thought were foolproof have already caught the attention of the audit team. You're one of the first people he ever trusted. If anything happens, you'll be the first to take the fall."

He paused for a long time, no longer smiling.

"What do you want?"

I looked at him, my gaze unwavering.

"I want him to fall—harder than he's ever fallen. I want him to fall face-first into the filth he's most afraid to touch."

24.

This battle was one that would lay me bare, too.

Using a front company and a few offshore shells, I orchestrated a fake transaction involving several of my father's key investment funds.

Then, through my mother's connections, we injected the assets into a local cultural preservation project under the guise of philanthropy.

My father didn't realize—this time, it wasn't that we'd broken through his defenses.

It was that we'd already woven a web around him from the inside.

Every fund transfer, every payment record, every signature of approval—there was a traceable path, all logged into our internal system.

We didn't call the police.

We didn't hold a public trial.

But that night, in the boardroom, he flipped through the copies of the contracts, his expression shifting from disdain to confusion, then to shock, and finally, to silence.

He looked up at me, his eyes heavy, as if trying to pierce through my skin.

I looked back, my voice soft.

"Father, isn't it time this civil war ended?"

25.

If everything before was like a game of Go—positioning, probing, encircling—

Then this moment was the reveal.

No more retreat.

No more mercy.

He crossed my last line.

So I was going to personally destroy the thing he was proudest of.

Even if it meant being shattered along with it.