Gone Girl

The confidential meeting at Western Hills commenced.

There was only one agenda: how to counter the escalating comprehensive technological blockade initiated by Country A.

"We must retaliate in kind!"

A military veteran, his voice booming and stance unyielding, declared firmly.

"If they sanction a hundred of our enterprises, we'll sanction two hundred of theirs!"

"If they dare shut one door, we'll build an entire wall!"

"We can't let them think the people of Xia are easy targets!"

His words resonated with many in the room.

A fervent atmosphere of shared defiance filled the conference hall.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

It was the most straightforward—and most satisfying—choice.

The chairperson’s gaze shifted to the youngest attendee.

"Comrade Chen Yuan, what are your thoughts?"

In an instant, all eyes turned to Lu Chenyuan.

He had remained silent since the meeting began.

Neither agreeing nor objecting.

Simply listening, like an outsider observing.

When called upon, Lu Chenyuan rose.

Without glancing at anyone, he calmly walked to the massive world map at the center of the room.

"Esteemed leaders, respected elders,"

His voice was soft, yet it carried a weight that silenced the room.

"What does Country A want us to do?"

Instead of answering directly, he posed a question.

Without waiting for a response, he continued.

"They want us to be angry. To act impulsively. To build walls just like them."

"Because in a world divided by hostility and isolation, they remain the ones setting the rules."

"If we choose equal retaliation, we’re walking right into the game they’ve prepared for us."

"Fighting on their terms, with their rules—our chances of winning are slim."

The room fell silent.

The fiery emotions cooled under the weight of stark reality.

"So what should we do? Swallow our pride?" someone asked indignantly.

"No."

Lu Chenyuan shook his head.

His finger traced a path across the map, stopping at Country A.

"The Teacher once laid out sixteen words when forging our nation’s path."

He paused, then recited deliberately:

"When the enemy advances, we retreat. When they halt, we harass. When they tire, we strike. When they retreat, we pursue."

The elders in the room stiffened, their eyes flashing with recognition.

Those sixteen words were etched into their bones.

The ultimate wisdom of the weak overcoming the strong.

"Now is the time to 'pursue.'"

Lu Chenyuan’s fingertip rested on the vast expanse of the ocean.

"Country A is raising barriers, relinquishing its leadership in globalization—this is a strategic retreat."

"The void they leave behind is the ground we must claim."

"We won’t build walls. Instead, we’ll open our doors wider."

"What they refuse to sell, we’ll sell. Where they refuse to go, we’ll go. Whom they refuse to lead, we’ll lead."

"With our standards, our technology, our solutions—we’ll unite every force that can be united."

"Country A wants to split the world in two. Then we’ll strive to fuse it into one—a new order, open, fair, and inclusive, shaped by our vision."

"This isn’t surrender. It’s an offensive. Using tai chi to defeat boxing."

His words struck like a gavel.

The room was so silent a pin drop could be heard.

Every person was awed by the grand vision he had painted.

This was no longer the thinking of a businessman.

It was the stratagem of a master tactician.

After a long pause, the leader at the head of the table nodded slowly and began to clap.

"Well said."

His voice carried a trace of admiration.

"Countering closure with openness, dismantling barriers with unity—this is the way of a great nation."

"Let us refine Comrade Chen Yuan’s framework over the next three days."

"We must produce a plan to guide us for the next two decades."

With that, the meeting’s direction was set.

Thunderous applause filled the room.

Lu Chenyuan returned to his seat, his expression as calm as still water.

Yet, inexplicably, the unease in his chest grew stronger.

As if something far more critical to him than this battle of nations was spiraling out of control.

He forced himself to refocus on the discussion.

Unbeknownst to him, as he charted the nation’s future,

his own was being dragged into a maelstrom.

......

J Country, Gedo International Airport.

Mo Qingli stepped off the plane.

A wave of damp, chilly air greeted her.

The airport was sparsely populated, the atmosphere unnervingly quiet.

At the arrivals gate, she saw no familiar faces from the local branch.

Only a group of men in dark suits, their postures rigid, their eyes sharp—less like corporate staff, more like disciplined officers.

Her heart sank slightly.

But her face betrayed nothing as she walked toward them, pulling her luggage with measured grace.

The leader of the group stepped forward.

He bowed slightly, his demeanor deceptively polite.

"Ms. Mo Qingli?"

"I am."

The man presented his credentials.

"Piero, J Country’s Commercial Security Division."

"We have reason to suspect your involvement in a major case of corporate espionage, endangering our national energy security."

"Please come with us for questioning."

His words were clear, measured.

Yet each syllable felt dipped in ice.

Nearby passengers instinctively stepped back, casting curious yet fearful glances.

Mo Qingli studied him calmly.

His face was a mask of courtesy, but his eyes were cold.

She knew it had come.

This was the "trap" they had laid for her.

A meticulously woven net, cast in the name of the state, impossible to refute.

"I need to contact my lawyer and the Xia Embassy."

Her voice was even, devoid of emotion.

"My apologies." Piero’s expression turned formulaically regretful.

"Until the investigation concludes, you may not communicate with the outside world."

"Protocol."

In that instant, Mo Qingli understood.

This wasn’t about law.

It was politics.

Arguing would be pointless.

She said nothing more, merely nodding.

"Fine."

No struggle. No outrage. Not a hint of distress.

She straightened her spine, her gaze sweeping the surroundings with regal composure.

Not a suspect being detained, but a queen surveying her domain.

Her poise was so unshaken that even Piero’s eyes flickered with something unreadable.

With a gesture, he signaled two subordinates to flank her.

Mo Qingli pulled her suitcase, walking between them toward a black car outside.

Under the airport’s harsh lights, her silhouette looked profoundly alone.

Yet she carried within her an unbreakable pride.

She wasn’t afraid.

She had told Lu Chenyuan in her message.

She believed in him.

Believed he would come.

The moment the car door closed, she was severed from the world, cut off from all connection.