At that moment, the trio was huddled in the study, eyes locked on the surveillance footage playing across the screen.

On it, a private booth in a nightclub was clearly visible, filled with scantily clad men and women. Some were openly using drugs, while others engaged in graphic acts in the shadows. The entire scene was a portrait of decadence and depravity.

Luo Yunyan smirked, the corner of her lips curled in a wicked arc. She tapped her phone, speaking calmly,
“Lao Han, move in. This one’s a gift-wrapped merit—don’t let it slip through your fingers.”

In the very next second, a team of plainclothes officers burst into the booth. Chaos broke out as a dozen trust-fund brats were forcibly cuffed and taken away. Three people who were… entangled… had to be hauled out stacked like dominoes. Phones whipped out everywhere as shocked bystanders took photos and recorded video. The wild night had suddenly turned into a public disgrace.

Luo Yunyan leaned back, a gleam in her eye.
“Activate the influencer accounts. Zoom in on Song Yi’s face. Add the tags: ‘Heir of Song Construction’, ‘Younger brother of A-list starlet Song Huanhuan’. Leak some of the dirt on the Songs, sprinkle in a bit of their recent scandals. By morning, the Song family won’t be welcome in even the second-rate social circles of Beijing.”

She punctuated the command with a playful, roguish whistle.

Jiang Ziang’s expression was grim but satisfied as he began distributing the directive. His fingers flew over the keyboard, a mix of hatred and catharsis in his eyes.

“What about me? What do I do?” Jiang Yining looked up eagerly.

Luo Yunyan raised an eyebrow.
“Well, isn’t this the perfect excuse to terminate that scumbag? A little ‘character misconduct’ clause—clean break, no penalty.”

“You’re the best!” Jiang Yining gave her a big thumbs-up.
“We got them to pour their whole fortune into him, and we’re pulling out with no strings attached. Genius.”

Luo Yunyan’s gaze turned icy.
“This is just the start. The evidence is already submitted—an arrest warrant should be in Lao Han’s hands soon. By Saturday, I want that whole family of four locked up. Have Elvis clear his schedule and fly to China before the banquet. His invitation’s ready.”

Jiang Yining’s brows furrowed. “No way. You never said you’d pull something at the banquet. If Elvis shows up, that’ll make it obvious we’re behind the Song family’s collapse. You just came back—what are people gonna think?”

“I agree with Ning-zi,” Jiang Ziang said. “She’s my sister too. I hate Song Hao and want him to rot in hell, but this will taint your reputation. And the Luo family…”

Luo Yunyan interrupted, her voice calm but resolute.
“Let them see it. Let everyone see it. I’m not afraid of gossip. They can say what they want—it won’t stop me. Grandpa suggested making it public. The rest of the family doesn’t know yet.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, voice soft and distant.
“I made her a promise nine years ago. She’s been the ‘bad kid who ran away from home with her brother’ for fifteen years. It’s time to clear her name. I won’t wait anymore.”

The room fell silent.

Jiang Yingyue. The deepest thorn in her heart. The reason Luo Yunyan had survived, lived, and fought. Every day since she died, her last words had been Luo Yunyan’s anchor. But it wasn’t just her—they all bore that weight.

“Luo-jie…” Jiang Ziang rubbed his forehead, torn with frustration and grief.

But when he looked up, Luo Yunyan’s eyes met his—unyielding, unrelenting.

Jiang Yining sighed, then suddenly grinned, raising her right hand with her fingers straight.
“Whatever. Let’s do it. We’ve always landed on our feet. Worst case, we go back to N-continent. And hey, Uncle Qi will still feed us.”

Jiang Ziang sniffled, wiped his tears, and raised his hand too.

Luo Yunyan finally smiled and placed hers against theirs. The three palms came together—forming a triangle.

A gesture they’d repeated countless times. Every time they made a vow, every time they accomplished something difficult—they would do this. Because the triangle, as a shape, was stable.

And at the center of their triangle… had always been Jiang Yingyue.

…

While they enjoyed a moment of quiet strength, the Song family was being crushed under a tidal wave of public disgrace.

Influencer accounts launched the footage across every major platform. Song Yi’s arrest hit the trending charts within minutes.

Phone calls flooded in from business partners. Deals were canceled on the spot.

Still tangled in a secretary’s arms, Song Hao didn’t even flinch. He scoffed and told the callers not to “regret it later.”

Then his personal phone rang. It was Elvis himself—calling all the way from overseas.

“Elvis?” Song Hao hurriedly answered, only for his heart to sink like a stone.

“Mr. Song,” came the polite but icy voice. “With what we’ve seen of your company’s conduct, we no longer feel secure working with you.”

The line went dead.

His secretary had sensed something was wrong. She shoved him off, grabbed her phone, and gasped at the news alert. Her face went pale.

“Sir—your son has been arrested. It’s all over the internet. And there’s additional exposés tied to your company… and to Miss Song Huanhuan as well.”

“You little bastard!!” Song Hao roared, hurling his phone at the wall. “Get that damn trending topic buried—NOW!”

Just then, a call from his wife Wang Manlin came in. He answered, only to be assaulted by shrieks and sobs.

“Xiao Yi—he’s been taken! What do we do?! You have to save him!”

“Cry, cry, cry. That’s all you do!” Song Hao snarled. “Our company is in chaos! You think I have time to save that little beast? Let him rot—it’ll do him good!” And he slammed the phone shut.

Seeing her husband wasn’t going to help, Wang Manlin dialed her daughter next.

Song Huanhuan, currently under fire herself, answered with a tightly controlled tone.

“Mom, it’s been two hours. Nobody can do anything that fast. Because of Xiao Yi, I’ve lost several endorsements. My agent’s furious. But the real issue is the company—Dad’s right. Let’s keep Xiao Yi where he is for now and find another way later. Just… try to get some rest. I’m still in meetings. I’ll come home when I can.”

…

Saturday. The day of Luo Yunyan’s homecoming banquet.

The Luo family estate was abuzz. Guests milled about in elegant attire, champagne flutes in hand, already networking before the official start.

In her room, Luo Yunyan sat on the windowsill, gazing out at the sun-dappled landscape. Her grandfather’s words from earlier echoed in her ears:

“Yanyan, if there’s something you want to do—go ahead and do it. Grandpa’s got your back.”

She smiled faintly. Her crimson lips moved almost imperceptibly.

“Jie… I’m home. I’ll get your home back for you too. Don’t worry.”

A knock at the door. Luo Yunzhe pushed it open, frowning slightly.

“Yanyan? Why are you sitting on the windowsill? That’s not safe.”

“I’m fine, Big Brother.” She hopped down, brushing off her dress. “What’s up?”

Luo Yunzhe gently patted her head.
“Come get ready. We’ve arranged a stylist—next time, I’ll build you a proper bay window if you like sitting by them so much.”

“Okay. Thanks, big bro.”

Together, they headed for the dressing room. Today, Luo Yunzhe had pulled some strings and hired Victoria, one of the top names in the styling industry.

(End of Chapter)