Kid, you've come at just the right time, you know

One trick is all you need to conquer the world.

Cao Cheng had countless ways to make someone back down—or even disappear.

At least a hundred methods.

Hmm.

Learned from Liang Chen.

But the most effective one was hacking.

As Young Master Cao unboxed more and more advanced tech, much of it was sent for research, while some was "too cutting-edge to disclose," leaving him to use it quietly on his own.

Paired with his "moderately skilled" hacking abilities,

no office building in the current digital landscape could detect his intrusions.

Even the most secure institutions might notice, but they couldn’t stop him from coming and going as he pleased.

This was the source of Cao Cheng’s confidence.

Without it, he wouldn’t dare leave so much capital exposed out there.

It was the power to flip the table that gave him the audacity.

...

After leaving the chairman’s office, Liu Jinying’s expression shifted from shock to gloom before quickly settling into calm.

At over fifty, Liu Jinying had seen his share of the world.

Composed, he returned to his office, grabbed only a laptop, took one last deep look at the room, and walked away.

Eight years back in the country.

Truth be told...

he’d grown somewhat accustomed.

The smarter you were, the clearer the signs became.

What the future global landscape would look like, Liu Jinying didn’t know.

But he did know that in finance, the Western system resembled a Ponzi scheme—just one with a massive scale, enough investors, and a high safety net.

Yet a scam was still a scam.

It would collapse eventually.

Only the manner of its downfall might surprise everyone.

Liu Jinying understood that people like him were gambling on not being the last ones holding the bag.

So,

purely from a financial standpoint, he’d noticed the warning signs and had been considering shifting his focus elsewhere.

Besides, he wasn’t getting any younger. He had a wife, kids, and things he couldn’t easily walk away from now.

Including the mistress he kept on the side.

He wasn’t exactly eager to keep working for "them," but what choice did he have?

Back when he’d gone abroad for studies, he’d entered the world of big finance and was recruited as an undercover asset.

Young and brash, he hadn’t grasped the risks—even fantasized about leveraging the role for insider tips to fatten his wallet.

Once he’d made enough, he’d quit.

Looking back now, how naïve he’d been.

By the time he was older and wiser, there was no turning back.

He could only press forward.

Like this time.

Liu Jinying knew Cao Cheng’s capabilities. Did anyone really think a billionaire’s power lay solely in money?

What made him think he could take on the richest man in the country?

Did he have a death wish?

Yet he couldn’t refuse the mission handed to him—to tarnish Cao Cheng’s reputation.

He wasn’t the first, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

...

Liu Jinying’s mind was a mess.

During the short elevator ride down from the high-rise, his entire life flashed before his eyes.

In the parking lot, he got into his luxury car—worth several hundred thousand—and drove off in silence.

Back at his penthouse,

his wife was home.

Their child was at school.

"You’re back so early? Didn’t you have important meetings today?" his wife asked.

Liu Jinying replied, "Sudden business trip. Not sure when I’ll return. Take this card—it should cover things."

He didn’t elaborate.

The less his family knew, the safer they’d be.

Liu Jinying had to admit: even if he worked for outsiders, the authorities here wouldn’t punish his wife and child.

At worst, his son just wouldn’t enter politics.

So,

he hadn’t considered taking them abroad, nor had he explained the situation.

Frankly, leaving might put them in greater danger.

But his wife wasn’t stupid.

She could tell something was off today.

And that line—"Not sure when I’ll return, this money should cover things"—

that was definitely not normal.

"Honey..."

"Don’t ask."

Liu Jinying waved her off. "I’ll contact you later. Just don’t question it now."

"..." She opened her mouth, then closed it.

"I’m leaving. Take care of our son."

Liu Jinying quickly gathered his passport and essentials into a small backpack, hugged his wife, and walked out.

Leaving behind a woman with reddened eyes.

He had to go.

He knew the stakes.

With only 24 hours given by "them," escaping was the priority.

If that USB drive only contained financial violations, fine—just pay the fines and return later.

But if it held evidence of his covert communications, he’d never set foot here again.

Liu Jinying drove straight to the airport.

Phone off.

No contact with anyone.

Even though one of the forty-plus people Cao Cheng had named was his "colleague," he wouldn’t reach out now. Save himself first.

Loyalty didn’t exist in this line of work.

Neither did sentiment.

You’re a traitor—what kind of morals were you expecting?

If he had any, he wouldn’t be a spy in the first place.

One hour later,

Liu Jinying arrived at the airport, checked in, and got his boarding pass.

...

What he didn’t notice,

however,

was the reporter staking out a noodle shop on the airport’s second floor.

"Quick, quick—he’s here! It’s really Liu Jinying!"

"He’s actually running?"

"The tip was real. Start filming."

"Got it, bro. Rolling."

"Make sure it’s clear."

"On it."

"Check if there are any cops around..."

The two reporters were buzzing.

An anonymous text had tipped them off: Liu Jinying was a mole, spooked by Cao Cheng’s USB drive, now fleeing Zhonghai.

And the police knew.

State security was preparing to arrest him.

The tipster told them to head to the airport for a front-row seat to the action.

Not one to dismiss a lead, they’d rushed over to stake out the scene.

And sure enough, they’d hit the jackpot.

Liu Jinying was a known figure in the industry—his face searchable online.

The reporters recognized him instantly.

This was their golden ticket.

Honestly,

an arrest alone wasn’t headline-worthy. But tie it to the richest man, amid all the recent controversy?

That combo would explode online.

The footage of Liu Jinying’s capture would go viral.

And the reporters? Instant fame.

Their big break was here.

Originally, they were just tabloid hounds covering celebrity gossip...

Who’d have thought they’d end up documenting financial espionage?

Talk about a career upgrade.

"Bro... is this, like, appropriate for us?"

"Appropriate how?" The older reporter shot him a look.

"I mean, aren’t we kinda... straying from our beat?" The younger one hesitated.

Whack!

The middle-aged reporter slapped him: "Quit yapping, kid. How is this not our job? Who said we paparazzi—pfft, I mean reporters—have to stick to the entertainment beat? Wherever there’s news, that’s where we belong."

"Whether it’s showbiz, finance, or even politics and business—well, okay, we’re not quite there yet with the political big shots, but this time we’re indirectly rubbing shoulders with Cao, the richest man!"

"Kid, you’ve hit the jackpot, you know that?"

The middle-aged reporter was brimming with ambition. "Once we nail this, we’ll be famous. From then on, when we step out, people will know who we are."

"With fame comes fortune."

"We’ll upgrade our cars, our gear, and have more funds to dig up dirt on A-list celebs—snapping juicier, more exclusive shots."

"That’s the virtuous cycle."

"Bottom line, kid, we’re about to strike gold. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you live the high life."

The young reporter was practically dizzy from the hype, buzzing with excitement.

The middle-aged reporter smirked. "Get those shots clean and sharp. Today’s the make-or-break moment."

"You got it, boss. Just watch me."

...

While the paparazzi were losing their minds, the national security team had already zeroed in on Liu Jinying.

The evidence was solid.

Even if the chain of custody wouldn’t hold up in court—legally speaking, it violated the "principle of evidence admissibility."

In other words,

if a hacker pulls evidence from a criminal’s computer, the court won’t touch it.

But...

exceptions exist.

A mole is different.

As long as the evidence is verified, special agencies will take it.

That’s called "handling matters with flexibility."

And this wasn’t just any case—finance is the backbone of a nation.

If most of your analysts are overseas-educated and a little too fond of foreign ways, fine.

But if you’re a mole, planted to sabotage or spy? Unacceptable.

Show the proof, and you’re done.

What’s more,

this evidence didn’t just expose Liu Jinying—it led to the whole network behind him, including several higher-ups.

That’s why Cao Cheng ignored the noise and kept posting memes.

They were practically taunting him, yet Cao Cheng acted like it was nothing, just living it up.

So Liu Jinying’s handlers panicked, pushing him to escalate the smear campaign.

And that’s how Cao Cheng caught them slipping.

With his two-and-a-half years of hacking skills, snagging that slip-up was child’s play.

Truth is,

Liu Jinying had been careful. Before targeting Cao Cheng, he’d scrubbed his tracks clean.

That’s why

Cao Cheng couldn’t dig deeper at first.

But after days of waiting, the puppet masters jumped out, and Cao Cheng peeled back layer after layer.

This time, it was Liu Jinying’s own people who doomed him.

If he’d stayed quiet, Cao Cheng might never have found his weak spot.

His Achilles’ heel!

...

As Liu Jinying approached customs,

a group of men in black suits—official-looking, stern-faced—closed in.

Security quietly flanked him too, cutting off any escape.

Though that was overkill.

At his age,

running wasn’t an option.