Qin Ya's Choice

In this massive wave of deglobalization, it wasn’t just companies like Yuanlong Technology that were hit hard.

The Qin Group was no exception.

As another giant in Xia Country’s new energy sector, Qin Group’s overseas supply chains were also devastated.

Their stock price plummeted for three consecutive days, casting a pall of gloom over the entire company.

In Qin Ya’s office, the atmosphere was as stifling as frozen ice.

On her desk lay two documents.

One was the group’s loss assessment report—every figure on it was staggering.

The other was a letter of intent from Country A.

Its wording was polished, its terms enticing.

If the Qin Group agreed to align with Country A’s industrial strategy, they would receive technology licensing and access to certain markets.

The price? Cutting all ties with Yuanlong Technology, the Mo Group, and other such companies—effectively becoming a knife planted by Country A in Xia’s tech sector.

"President Qin, the delegation from Country A has been waiting in the reception room for half an hour," the secretary said, her voice trembling faintly.

Qin Ya didn’t respond. She simply gazed out the window.

The sky over Jingzhou was a dull gray.

This was a crossroads.

To the left lay submission—a shortcut, dependence.

She could survive, even thrive.

To the right lay resistance—a path of thorns, of solitude.

And possibly death.

Unbidden, Lu Chenyuan’s face surfaced in her mind.

That man had chosen to plant trees while others reveled.

Before the storm arrived, he had already fortified the dam.

He never took the easy road.

And then there was Mo Qingli.

The woman she had always seen as her rival.

On the day the storm hit, the Mo Group was the first to publicly declare full support for Yuanlong Technology.

They had both chosen the hardest path.

If Qin Ya chose to bow her head now…

Then she would truly lose.

Not in the market, but in vision, in foresight—and in backbone.

"Tell them to get out."

Qin Ya’s voice was quiet but clear.

The secretary froze.

"President Qin?"

"Did you not hear me?" Qin Ya turned, her gaze sharp as a blade. "I don’t want to see them again."

The secretary stiffened and hurried out.

Silence returned to Qin Ya’s office.

She picked up Country A’s letter of intent and slowly tore it to shreds.

Then, without hesitation, she tossed the pieces into the trash.

She dialed the internal line.

"Notify all department heads—emergency meeting in the top-floor conference room in thirty minutes."

"Yes, President Qin."

The emergency meeting at Qin Group unfolded like a storm.

"I’ve made a decision."

Standing at the head of the table, Qin Ya’s voice was firm.

"First, we will fully withdraw from overseas operations and abandon all high-risk partnerships."

"Second, the saved capital will be entirely redirected to support and rebuild domestic supply chains."

"Third, immediately reach out to the Mo Group."

The room erupted.

"President Qin, this is suicide!"

"Withdrawing now means collapse!"

"Cooperate with the Mo Group? They’re our sworn rivals!"

"Enough."

Qin Ya’s icy tone silenced the room.

All eyes were on her—this willful, unpredictable heiress.

But today, there was something new in her gaze: resolve, even conviction.

"In certain areas, the Mo Group and we can be allies," Qin Ya said calmly.

"Mo Qingli understands the principle of shared fate. So do I."

"We share the risks. In winter, we huddle for warmth."

"This is an order, not a discussion."

Her sweeping glare left no room for dissent.

"Meeting adjourned."

She strode out, leaving a room full of stunned executives behind.

Back in her office, Qin Ya felt drained.

Making the decision had taken a single moment of courage.

But bearing its consequences would take far longer.

She collapsed onto the sofa, eyes closed, massaging her throbbing temples.

The office door creaked open.

Assuming it was her secretary, she didn’t look up.

"Didn’t I say not to disturb me?"

A familiar, steady voice answered.

"Ya-jie, you look exhausted."

Qin Ya’s eyes snapped open. Huangfu Chengshi stood before her.

Dressed in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, he looked travel-worn, but his eyes were bright.

No longer the child who had to beg to stay, he now carried an unshakable calm.

"What are you doing here?" Qin Ya frowned, but her tone softened.

"The news is everywhere. I was worried you’d be carrying this alone."

Huangfu Chengshi set a thermal lunchbox on the table.

"Soup from home. Have some."

He didn’t pry about the company, simply ladled the soup into a bowl.

The rich aroma filled the air.

Qin Ya’s stomach growled—she hadn’t eaten all day.

"The company’s a mess. I’m not in the mood," she muttered, though her eyes lingered on the bowl.

"I know." He handed it to her. "That’s why I brought good news."

"Good news?" She laughed bitterly. "Right now, no bad news is the best news."

"'Edge One,'" Huangfu Chengshi said, his voice alight with youthful pride,

"didn’t just weather the storm—it gained a 12% return."

Qin Ya’s hand stilled around the bowl.

"My model detected the market’s extreme sentiment buildup two weeks early. It caught key supply chain disruptions before they hit." His confidence was quiet but unshakable.

"I hedged all long positions and built sufficient short exposure before the crash."

"Ya-jie, your investment turned a profit."

Something warm flickered in Qin Ya’s chest.

In this winter of relentless bad news, this was the first glimmer of light.

The sum was a drop in the bucket for Qin Group’s troubles.

But it proved one thing:

Abandoning relics like Li Jinchuan for tech-driven minds like Huangfu Chengshi had been the right call.

Or rather, choosing Huangfu Chengshi had been right.

Her judgment hadn’t failed her.

"Well done." She took a sip, the warmth seeping into her.

Huangfu Chengshi watched her, then said earnestly,

"Ya-jie, at its core, 'Edge One' is an information processing and logic engine. It finds patterns in chaos, predicts trends."

"It might not solve the group’s problems yet, but..."

"But if you want to support domestic supply chains, you'll need to evaluate which companies are worth investing in and which are just empty shells... Perhaps my model could help with some preliminary screening and analysis."

"I want to help you."

Qin Ya looked up, her gaze earnest as she met Huangfu Chengshi's eyes.

The young man before her still carried a trace of boyishness in his features, yet his eyes, his words, and the way he approached problems all told her he had grown up.

He was no longer the little brother who would whine and act coy in front of her.

He was striving to become a man who could stand beside her and weather the storms together.

"Alright."

Qin Ya studied him, then suddenly smiled.

It was the first genuine smile she'd worn since the storm began.

She took the bowl of soup and drank it slowly, sip by sip.

As if with each swallow, she was drinking in boundless courage and hope.

Outside the window, the sky didn’t seem quite so gloomy anymore.