Balance

Time is the most skillful artist.

It can transform the deepest scars into faint traces.

And it can tint the most gilded cages with the hues of everyday life.

Another month had passed.

The autumn in Country J grew increasingly profound.

On the balcony of the presidential suite at the Royal Grand Hotel, the maple trees Mo Qingli had planted herself were now fully crimson, their leaves like clusters of burning flames.

That morning, Mo Qingli awoke to a call from her lawyer, Lu Jinlin.

"Good morning, Mrs. Lu," Lu Jinlin’s voice carried a hint of relief. "I have good news."

"The prosecutors in Country J have just informed us that the restrictions on your movement will be adjusted."

Mo Qingli listened calmly.

Similar pieces of good news had come several times over the past weeks.

From an absolute ban on leaving her residence, to supervised outings within designated areas of the hotel, and just last week, permission to use unencrypted internet.

The scales of justice in Country J were visibly tipping in their favor.

"What’s the adjustment?" Mo Qingli asked.

"The electronic ankle monitor will be removed," Lu Jinlin said.

"Additionally, you’ll now be allowed to leave the hotel twice a week for specified durations, though your movements will be confined to Gotham City."

This was a significant step forward.

It meant she was no longer formally treated as a "serious offender," but rather as a "suspect" out on bail.

"I see," Mo Qingli replied, her tone still composed. "Thank you, Attorney Lu."

After hanging up, she glanced down at her bare ankle.

Soon, that cold shackle would be gone.

She expected to feel elated.

Yet, deep inside, there was only a lake-like tranquility.

She walked into the kitchen.

Lu Chenyuan stood by the oven, an apron tied around his waist, intently watching the transformation inside.

Within the oven was a Basque cheesecake—Mo Qingli’s latest culinary endeavor.

After initial battles with flour and a few charred disasters, she had finally mastered the technique.

Now, her Basque cheesecakes emerged with a caramelized crust and a velvety interior, earning even Lu Chenyuan’s praise.

"Chenyuan," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

"You’re awake?" He turned, his face softening into a gentle smile. "Lu Jinlin told you about the monitor?"

"Mhm." She buried her face against his back. "You don’t seem surprised at all."

"Xia Country squeezed another concession out of Country J," Lu Chenyuan said, his tone light.

"Yuanlong and Country J’s largest automotive group reached a cross-licensing agreement for new energy patents."

"Country J needs our technology to counter the pressure from A and E’s automakers."

"They had to show some goodwill."

Mo Qingli chuckled.

This man always had a way of simplifying the most intricate international maneuvers into terms she could understand.

He effortlessly transformed those invisible, high-stakes battles into reassurances that steadied her heart.

Ding.

The oven timer went off.

Lu Chenyuan pulled on thick gloves and retrieved the cake.

The rich aroma of cream and cheese instantly filled the kitchen.

"Want a taste?" He scooped a small spoonful of the warm, molten center and held it to her lips.

Mo Qingli parted her lips and took it in.

Sweet, silky, melting effortlessly on her tongue.

"I’ve decided something," she said suddenly, meeting his gaze.

"What’s that?"

"Tomorrow, I’m holding a global video conference with Mo Corporation."

To Mo Qingli, the decision felt natural.

But within Mo Corporation, it sent shockwaves.

Since her confinement in Country J, the company’s daily operations had been managed jointly by several vice presidents and senior executives.

Mo Zhenbang, meanwhile, showed no intention of returning to the helm.

Though Mo Qingli had been directing things remotely, the distance inevitably bred uncertainty.

Morale had wavered.

Now, the queen was formally "returning," even if only via screen.

Every nerve in the company tensed at once.

The next morning at ten, Mo Qingli sat in the study, facing a screen filled with the faces of Mo Corporation’s regional heads worldwide.

She wore a tailored white suit, her makeup flawless, her gaze sharp.

The softness she’d cultivated over the months was now perfectly tucked away.

Once again, she was the decisive, formidable Queen of Mo.

The meeting began.

"I’ve reviewed South Asia’s quarterly report," she said, her eyes locking onto one screen.

"Profit margins dropped three percentage points. Hasan, explain."

The South Asia president, Hasan, broke into a sweat.

He launched into excuses—market downturns, competitors’ predatory pricing, and so on.

In the past, such reasons might have sufficed.

But Mo Qingli cut straight to the core.

"Your inventory turnover period increased by seven days. Your main competitor’s only rose by one."

"This isn’t a market issue. It’s a management issue."

"Submit a detailed corrective plan after this meeting. If there’s no improvement next quarter, you should consider applying your talents elsewhere."

Hasan’s face paled instantly.

The virtual meeting room fell deathly silent.

Everyone felt it—the queen’s authority hadn’t diminished in the slightest.

If anything, she was sharper, more incisive than before.

For the next hour, she pinpointed problem after problem.

Every remark struck true.

Every critique hit the mark.

Like a master surgeon, she dissected the sprawling commercial empire with clinical precision.

As the meeting concluded, she checked her watch.

"That’s all for today," she said. "I expect your solutions by this time next week."

Without hesitation, she ended the call.

The study returned to silence.

Mo Qingli leaned back in her chair and exhaled deeply.

The commanding aura around her gradually dissipated.

Rubbing her temples, she felt a familiar weariness—but also a deep satisfaction from reclaiming control.

The door opened.

Lu Chenyuan entered, carrying a cup of steaming tea.

"Rough day, CEO Mo?" he teased, setting the cup beside her.

"Don’t mock me, CEO Lu," she shot back with a smile, lifting the tea to her lips.

The warmth slid down her throat, soothing her fatigue.

"How do you feel?" Lu Chenyuan asked.

"Not bad," she mused. "But something’s different."

"Oh?"

"Before, in meetings like this, I’d obsess over every minute. I believed the company would collapse without my constant oversight."

"But just now," she gazed out the window, "I realized it’s not that fragile."

"Hasan’s management is flawed. But Mo Corporation won’t crumble because of one man’s mediocrity."

"I pointed out the problem and gave him direction as well as pressure. As for how he chooses to act and how far he can go—that’s his business."

"It seems... I don’t feel as compelled to control every little detail anymore."

Lu Chenyuan listened quietly, his eyes reflecting an appreciative smile.

This marked a profound transformation in her mindset.

"That reminds me of you," Mo Qingli turned her head to look at him.

"You handled Yuanlong the same way."