First Grasp of Power (3)

After the meeting, Chen Qiming was almost the first to flee the Meeting Room.

He hurried back to his office, locked the door behind him, and only dared to gasp for air after leaning against the cold door panel.

His heart pounded wildly in his chest cavity, his temples throbbed, and cold sweat had already soaked through the back of his shirt.

The final look Lin Wanqing had given him in the Meeting Room had been like a venomous snake's tongue—cold, clammy, and filled with undisguised murderous intent.

He knew that from this moment on, in Lin Wanqing and Zhao Jianguo's world, Chen Qiming was already a dead man.

He staggered to his office chair and collapsed into it, covering his face with both hands.

That nightmare-like conversation from last night surged uncontrollably through his mind again, so vivid it was suffocating.

It had been last night, not long after he returned home.

When the doorbell rang, Chen Qiming had only just arrived home, utterly exhausted in body and mind.

Henglong's stock price collapse over the past week, along with the seismic shock of Zhao Jianguo's arrest, had left him, the Deputy Director of Finance, sitting on pins and needles.

When he opened the door and saw Zhang Qingxue standing outside, his heart sank sharply.

"Lawyer Zhang? At this hour..."

"Let's talk." There was not the slightest hint of a question in Zhang Qingxue's tone as she walked straight into the living room.

In the study, the lighting was stark white. Without any pleasantries, Zhang Qingxue took a document from her Briefcase and pushed it across the desk to him.

<Preliminary Analysis Report on Henglong Group's Off-Balance Sheet Liabilities Structure and Potential Risk Exposure>.

With just one glance at the title and the familiar project abbreviations, Chen Qiming felt his blood nearly freeze.

The report was so detailed and precise that even he, a professional, found it terrifying.

"Th-This... where did this come from?" His voice was dry and trembling.

"Zhao Jianguo has seen it." Zhang Qingxue's voice was as calm as if she were discussing the weather.

"This afternoon, at the Detention Center. After reading it, he agreed to transfer 15% of his shares to Zhao Chen."

Chen Qiming's vision went dark, and he instantly understood—this report was the ultimate weapon that had forced Zhao Jianguo to yield.

"Wh-Who leaked it?" Almost instinctively, desperately, he asked the question.

Zhang Qingxue's calm gaze settled on his face as she clearly uttered three words:

"It was you, Chen Qiming."

"Impossible!" Chen Qiming shot to his feet, the chair legs scraping harshly against the floor. His face turned as pale as paper. "I never did! This is absolutely a frame-up! Lawyer Zhang, you know me. How could I possibly—"

"It no longer matters." Zhang Qingxue cut him off. She folded her hands on the table and leaned forward slightly, radiating a suffocating pressure. "Zhao Jianguo has seen the report. He, and Lin Wanqing, now firmly believe that—

"There is a key figure within Henglong who betrayed them and handed this deadly material to Zhao Chen."

She paused, her gaze sharp as a blade.

"And that night, right after Zhao Jianguo was arrested and everyone was panicking, Zhao Chen kept you behind alone in the villa and spoke with you for more than half an hour.

"Director Chen, in everyone's eyes—especially Zhao Jianguo and Lin Wanqing's—the traitor who stabbed them in the back at the critical moment is you, Chen Qiming."

Every word was like an icy hammer smashing ruthlessly into Chen Qiming's heart.

He understood. This was an inescapable death trap.

Zhao Chen's inexplicable "casual chat" that night had been setting him up for this all along!

No matter how he swore or bared his heart to prove his innocence, to Zhao Jianguo, already a prisoner and a frightened bird, and to Lin Wanqing, whose interests had been damaged and whose suspicions were at their peak, the name "Chen Qiming" had already become synonymous with "traitor."

Given the temperament and methods of that man and woman, how would they treat a "traitor"? He knew all too well.

Ruined reputation would be the least of it.

Overwhelming fear seized him, chilling his entire body and making him tremble uncontrollably.

"Wh... why are you setting me up?" He slumped back into his chair, his voice hoarse and carrying the last trace of unwillingness.

"Because you have value." Zhang Qingxue's tone softened somewhat, yet sounded all the more brutally pragmatic. "And because you have no other choice now. A person standing at the edge of a cliff either jumps on their own or grabs the rope someone offers them—

"Even if the person holding the other end is an enemy you once avoided at all costs."

She placed a thin envelope on the table and pushed it within Chen Qiming's reach.

"There's two million in cash inside. Unmarked bills. You can take it tonight. This is an advance." Her voice was low and seductive. "Zhao Chen needs people who truly understand finance and can get things done. Follow him, straighten out the company's accounts, point out the holes that need plugging, and you won't lose out in the future."

Chen Qiming stared fixedly at the envelope. Fear and greed, the instinct to survive and the temptation of profit, waged a savage battle within him.

On one side was a bottomless cliff; on the other, a bloodstained rope...

The study fell into dead silence. Only the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock remained, each tick pounding against his fraying nerves.

No one knew how long passed. It felt as though an entire century had gone by.

Trembling, Chen Qiming slowly stretched out his hand. His fingertips touched the cold surface of the envelope, jerked back, then finally clenched it tightly.