By the time Lumis Tech's seed funding closed, Yifeng thought he was a god.
He strutted into meetings like he already had a billion-dollar valuation. He'd started using phrases like "exit strategy" and "global scale" when he still hadn't paid last month's co-working space rent.
Meanwhile, I was laying landmines.
I secretly filed patents under a holding company in my name. Transferred key vendor contracts. Shifted IP ownership with carefully worded clauses buried in shareholder agreements he didn't bother reading.
I was no longer the naive girl he fooled.
I was the storm coming for him.
But then, Lu Shen showed up again.
This time, at a fintech roundtable. He was on the panel. CEO of Verity Capital, apparently. One of the youngest in the room, but when he spoke, everyone listened.
And when he saw me in the crowd, he gave the faintest nod. A small smile.
After the session, he found me near the coffee booth.
"Didn't know you were in tech," he said.
"Didn't know you were in finance," I replied.
We didn't talk much. Just enough. He asked if I'd want to grab dinner sometime—not in a pushy way. Just a quiet, curious offer.
And I said yes.
Even though my world was made of daggers and smoke, I said yes.
Because for the first time since I came back, something—someone—felt like light.