Controller of the "Fallen Angel"

　Mo Jie hadn't even stepped out of the school gate when he was suddenly bumped into. Dizzy, he watched as Dennis smugly held his math notes. 

"Give them back!" he chased after him. Strange, this fat kid never learns his lesson. Was the punishment last time not enough? 

　　The two children chased each other out of the school grounds and into the sidewalk outside, engaging in a chase. Despite running out of breath, Dennis didn't forget to make a face at him. "Little bastard!" 

　　"I'm not!" Mo Jie hated being called that. "I have a dad too." He shouted at the chubby boy a foot away from him. 

"Where? Where? Where?" Dennis deliberately looked around, clearly mocking him. 

　　"My dad is tall, strong, and muscular. He could crush you with just one finger!" Mo Jie, furious, began describing Leng Yan's appearance. "See my blue eyes? My dad has them too, but he's so powerful that if he glares at you, all the birds in the sky and dogs on the ground will die!" Mo Jie exaggerated the story. 

　　This—doesn't sound like a human being. 

"He has a cool scar on his face. Do you know how he got it? It was when he fought a demon—in hell, you know. The demon slashed him with a knife, but my dad still killed him with a single palm strike!" 

　　Dennis was so frightened that he backed away repeatedly. Mo Jie, seeing this, quickly pressed his advantage. 

"He's coming. Why aren't you—" 

"Wow!" Dennis suddenly dropped the book in his hand and turned to run away. 

Mo Jie was stunned. 

　　"Hahaha! Hahaha!" A string of unrestrained laughter solved his confusion—Cold Flame and Cold Beauty were standing right behind him. 

Cold Beauty wiped away the tears at the corner of her eyes and said breathlessly, "You... you're something else, kid... I give up... I give up." This kid would be a waste not to be a screenwriter in Hollywood. 

　　Leng Yan couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time, looking at the flushed little face. "Who was that person?" He was referring to Dennis, who had fled in panic. 

"A guy who doesn't like me." He picked up the book from the ground, a fleeting look of deep thought flashing in his eyes, caught in the quiet gaze of the two adults. 

　　The report mentioned that Mo Jie was a prodigy beyond his years, but for some reason, it gave him an uneasy feeling. 

"Uncle Leng and Aunt Leng, do you need something from me?" Under their scrutinizing gaze, he remained unfazed. 

Indeed, he was truly a member of the Leng family. 

"Would you like to eat something? I'll treat you," Leng Mei Yi invited him. 

　　Fifteen minutes later, they sat in an ice cream shop. Mo Jie didn't care that it was still early spring with a lingering chill in the air; he devoured his fruit sundae with gusto. 

They talked about Armstrong and Reagan, from the US-Soviet Cold War to the Holocaust. Mo Jie discussed each topic with such enthusiasm that one forgot he was not even eight years old. 

　　"—If only I had a father like Uncle Leng," Mo Jie said with a meaningful tone, hitting the mark for Leng Yan. Leng Mei Yi watched coldly from the side, showing no emotion. 

"Has your mother ever mentioned your father?" 

"Oh, when I was little, I always thought my mom was the Virgin Mary." Mo Jie's words stung his heart and strengthened his resolve. As long as he had enough evidence, Mo Jie would definitely take the Leng family surname. 

"If..." 

"What if you are the 'fallen angel'?" Leng Mei Yi interjected, seeing a flash of surprise on both father and son's faces. 

"Mo Jie?" Leng Yan asked to confirm. 

　　"—How did you know?" Mo Jie countered. There was nothing left to hide anyway. 

"I guessed." Leng Mei Yi played with the curls of her hair. "I should have realized sooner. A genius with an IQ over 200 whose greatest hobby is playing computers—and you give me this confident vibe, as if you've planned everything out. At first, I didn't connect the two things, but once I did, everything made sense." 

"That's it?" 

"Not just that," Leng Mei Yi added. "Perhaps you don't know that Yan is called the 'Black Panther' in the business world—merciless, agile, grateful for favors, and vengeful. Only a fool would dare to provoke him. And your mother doesn't seem like the type to be cunning or scheming; she doesn't even want to see Yan anymore—" 

"Alright, alright," Mo Jie raised his hand in surrender, his sharp blue eyes abandoning their facade, and the brilliance of his wisdom made one forget he was just a child. 

Leng Yan spoke slowly. "I'm surprised." 

　　"Perhaps that's the blind spot," Leng Mei Yi said. "Bad things aren't just done by adults, you know." 

"Hmm," he decided to go all in, since his secrets had already been exposed. "'Betrayal Angel' is the virus I designed, and it was meant for you to discover me and my mother." 

　　Mo Jie forced himself to change the word "father" to "you." For Leng Yan, he hadn't felt the so-called father-son bond; friendship was a more appropriate description. 

"Well, since you've brought us here, why not think about how to help us?" Leng Mei Yi said with a light laugh. "Any ideas? After all, you've lived with your mom for seven years; you know her better than we do." 

　　This world is getting crazier and crazier. A seven-year-old child is helping his father design his mother. 

　　Achoo! 

　　Mo Jing'er, unaware of the situation, suddenly shivered in the restaurant. 

　　＊　　　　　　　　　＊　　　　　　　　　＊ 

　　Wei Shefied began his one-month spring break two weeks later, and Mo Jie joyfully brought the good news back to Mo Jing'er from school. 

　　"The principal said I've earned enough credits, and she asked if I'd be willing to accept a scholarship to New York University by the end of the year." 

　　"Of course!" Mo Jing'er was more than willing. "How much does it cost?" 

　　His small face was serious. "I've calculated it several times. I can pay for part of it with my scholarship, but..." He deliberately leaned close to Mo Jing'er's ear and whispered a price that would make her faint. 

　　She almost fainted! 

　　"How can it be so much?" 

　　"Mom, I need to live in the dormitory, buy a better computer and floppy disks, and I want to study computer programming and—" 

"Stop." 

"—I can't work part-time." 

"Alright, I understand." She knew that once her son started talking about computers, his passion could keep him talking nonstop for days. 

　　The problem was… looking at the savings book in her hand, she couldn't help but sigh deeply. 

Where was she going to get the money for Xiao Jie's four years of tuition, textbooks, and living expenses? Maybe even the cost of graduate school. The previous debt hadn't been paid off yet, and now heaven was playing a joke on her by throwing this problem at her. 

　　Perhaps this was the mission of being a parent, destined to worry about one's children for a lifetime. No, she couldn't feel tired. Seven or eight years had passed, and there wouldn't be any problems in the future. Mo Jing'er comforted herself, thinking she would just have to scrape together another sum of money. 

　　She was tired, both physically and emotionally. No one was there to encourage her, comfort her, or let her lean on them at a time like this. 

　　Being single—it's called being a "single noble" or "free"—but it's also synonymous with loneliness and helplessness. 

"What are you thinking about?" 

A voice startled her awake. It was Leng Yan. She rolled her eyes at him in annoyance. 

　　For some reason, Leng Yan had been hanging around the restaurant every day, following her in and out like a pesky fly that wouldn't go away. 

He noticed the things she quickly put away. "Are you short on money?" 

"Always. Raising a child requires a lot of money, and Xiao Jie is a very special child." She gathered her strength to prepare for the next wave of busyness tonight. 

　　Leng Yan followed her. "I have a proposal." 

"If you mention marriage again, I'll lose my temper." 

"I won't embarrass myself again. I just want to suggest a way to solve your difficulties. I'm leaving for New York the day after tomorrow." 

He was leaving, leaving so soon, and her heart was torn apart. 

　　Good reaction, he observed. 

"You know, I've investigated you, including your financial situation." 

"The sooner you leave, the better." She lowered her head, unwilling to look at him. 

"Would you be willing to come back with me?" 

Seeing her about to speak, he raised his hand to stop her. "I plan to offer you a part-time job, Jing'er." 

　　All his efforts over the past few days had finally paid off. Mo Jing'er's nickname for him had progressed from the sarcastic "Mr. Burke" to "Mr. Leng." If it weren't for Leng Mei'yi leaving early because she had something to do, he would have had a good psychological strategist. 

One day, she would call her "Yan." Leng Yan was confident of that. 

　　After marrying Mo Jing'er, Mo Jie could finally belong to him rightfully, and he should have a steady woman. He was tired of fleeting relationships and longed for a warm embrace. 

　　Besides, marrying a simple woman was much better than marrying those delicate, spoiled young ladies. 

　　And she wasn't unattractive. 

　　Her round, Eastern features exuded classical elegance. Her clear, large eyes were distinctly black and white, and her vibrant red lips spoke of alluring charm… He scrutinized her figure critically. Her legs weren't long enough, but fortunately, her chest wasn't as large as a cow's. He didn't care for overly developed women. 

"I am currently in need of a female companion, as my daily life and social activities are greatly inconvenienced." His blue eyes fixed on her like magnets. "Three months, one million dollars." 

　　One million dollars!? She widened her eyes in astonishment. 

　　Cold Flame understood the principle of retreating to advance. He swiftly pulled out a notepad from his pocket and wrote quickly. "Think it over. I won't disturb you anymore. Here's the address and contact number of my company in New York. You'll know how to find me." 

　　＊　　　　　　　　　＊　　　　　　　　　＊ 

　　The entire building was constructed from dark-tinted glass panels, shimmering in the sunlight like a sharp-peaked pyramid, towering majestically above the surrounding square, matchbox-like houses. 

　　The automatic glass doors parted gently to the sides, revealing a lavish lobby where the marble floors shone with a solemn aura. 

　　To Cold Flame's left sat William, while his other trusted assistants were scattered throughout the corners. 

　　"Sorry I'm late," said the brunette beauty with striking eyes as she hurriedly took her seat. Nina Suzi, the image public relations director, had been in her role for less than two years, but her shrewd and smooth handling of matters left a lasting impression on anyone who had dealt with her. 

"Sit down, we're about to begin." Cold Yan gestured for everyone to take their seats. The phone's internal line light began to flash. "Hello?" He impatiently pressed the call button. 

"Mr. President, Mr. Cold Xiu'en is looking for you." 

"Tell him I'm in a meeting." 

"But he's insisting... um, would you please come anyway?" The secretary sounded helpless. 

　　Leng Xiu'en was the Leng family's biggest headache. He held more shares than Leng Yan among the older generation, but he was arrogant and selfish. Like most of the Leng family, he was unhappy that a mixed-race individual was ruling the Leng empire, so he frequently caused trouble, deliberately trying to embarrass Leng Yan. 

　　Last year, during the bidding war with Japan's "Hasegawa" for the massive water control project in the American West, the Leng family leaked information about their bottom line. Though there was no concrete evidence... he rose impatiently. 

　　William looked at him sympathetically. "He's a tough nut to crack." 

 "Give me ten minutes." He left after issuing that command. 

　　Setting aside his greedy gaze, Leng Xiu'en was actually a rather charming middle-aged man. The Leng family members all had good looks—black hair, tall and slender, with well-proportioned features—and they were a proud clan. 

"How have you been lately, Uncle?" As soon as he entered the reception room, Leng Yan greeted him politely but distantly. "What a rare visitor." 

　　"I heard about the 'Betrayal Angel' incident! How long do you plan to keep this from me?" Leng Xiu'en said sarcastically, waving the newspaper in his hand. 

 Despite his best efforts to suppress the news, those relentless journalists had managed to dig up the story—they were truly formidable. 

 He glanced at the headline on the newspaper— 

　　Computer viruses are everywhere, and the Leng family is facing an unprecedented crisis? 

"The Traitor Angel" is about to take control? 

"Business Panther" vs. "The Traitor Angel"… 

"I've been looking for you for three weeks. Not only did you not tell me about this, but you actually went on vacation? Do you know how much the stock price will drop?" He scolded him harshly. "How are you going to explain this to our shareholders?" 

"Calm down, Uncle. The matter has been resolved." 

"I demand a shareholders' meeting. I suspect you're incompetent!" The implication was that Leng Yan was incapable and should be replaced. 

　　"Uncle, I think you're not calm enough right now. If you insist on making me do this, how much more will your stock drop? If the Cold family's reputation is further tarnished, it will only be bad for you. I have to go to a meeting now. Please think it over carefully." 

"You... you impolite bastard!" 

"Am I?" He smiled, ignoring his outburst. 

　　Clearly, Leng Xiu'en also understood Leng Yan's sarcasm. His face alternated between pale and red, but he persisted with his second topic. "By the way, how are things between you and Linyin? Let me host a gathering for the young people to chat... Linyin might occasionally throw a tantrum, but her family background and upbringing are beyond reproach..." 

　　"Uncle, it's impossible between us." Leng Yan cut him off quickly. "If you have nothing else to say, I need to go. A group of people are waiting for me to attend a meeting." 

　　Leng Xiu'en was so angry he wanted to shout after him. "You—" 

　　Leng Yan suddenly turned around, and his sharp aura made him shrink back involuntarily. Except for the color of his pupils, he looked exactly like Leng Ri Xin. It was as if he were facing his father, whom everyone both respected and feared. 

"What?" he asked coldly. Seeing his uncle shake his head forcefully, he turned and left. 

Leng Xiu'en collapsed onto the sofa and swore to himself that he would one day get revenge for this humiliation.