Please, System! This Young Mistress Doesn't Want To Be A Hungry Ghost!

The designated pickup area was exactly where it should be, a testament to the airport's efficiency and the meticulous planning that had gone into her return. A sleek, black sedan sat waiting, its lines clean and understated, a subtle beacon in the sea of arriving vehicles. Her car. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

As she approached, a prickle of unease ran down her spine. Something was wrong. The car itself looked right, but her gaze flicked to the windows; they were heavily tinted, completely opaque. She'd specifically requested clear windows, she knew she needed to be able to see everything, always. The driver and bodyguard she had hired had a standard request, that she always requested before leaving her old apartment in Shanghai. They were her only requirement, and she knew that this was not right.

Her eyes narrowed, her thoughts racing to assess the situation. She distinctly remembered only contracting one driver, a man she had personally vetted for his discretion and professionalism, as well as a second bodyguard, whose job was specifically to protect her, not to act as a driver. She had never contracted anyone that was meant to act as a scary chauffer.

And yet, there, beside the open rear passenger door, stood a man she had never seen before, his face wreathed in a chilling smile. The smile wasn't welcoming; it was predatory, a grotesque parody of hospitality. It was the smile of a shark, and her instincts screamed that this was not right. This was not her driver, and her bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. Her hand twitched toward her purse, where her own discreet weapon was carefully hidden. She was prepared, as she had always been.

Before she could react, before she could even take another step, a new voice cut through the air, smooth and menacing, like polished steel. "Hong Quan Industries is disappointed in its Heiress."

The words, spoken from behind her, sent a chill down her spine. It was like ice water running through her veins. The voice was calm, almost conversational, but it carried the weight of a death sentence. She knew that voice, it was the man that was already in the car, the one whose features were hidden behind the tinted windows.

And then, the cold, hard metal of a gun pressed against her back, tucked into the sleeve of his jacket, a silent promise of violence that spoke volumes more than any shouted threat. It was not rough, it was not jarring, it was a subtle yet firm pressure, an insistent nudge that guided her, not as a hostage, but as if she were simply an errant child being brought back in line. There was no struggle, no fight, just the unavoidable feeling of being trapped.

"You'll see your father now," the voice continued, the words a mocking invitation, a cruel joke. "Come with us."

Her hand faltered, her own gun now useless. She knew she could not fight back. She was surrounded, outmaneuvered, and completely out of options. She had fallen into a trap, and she was trapped. With a grim sense of resignation, she allowed herself to be led, the gun a silent partner in this macabre dance of power.

She slowly stepped into the car as the man with the gun behind her made it look like he was helping her in. the smile of the man in the open door burning into her vision, her mind racing, trying to piece together how it had all gone wrong, but not able to make sense of it all. Her plan, her carefully crafted strategy, had been completely useless now. She was his pawn now, not his equal.

That's what she would let them think.

She would fight as long as she breathed.

The interior of the car was cool and dark, the tinted windows effectively cutting her off from the outside world. As she settled into the seat, her eyes narrowed, taking in the details of her surroundings. The man in the driver's seat, the one whose face had been obscured by the tinted windows, turned slightly, and in the dim light, she recognized his features. It was her brother, Hong Li, her father's favored son, the golden boy who had always looked down on her with his smug smile.

"Still licking father's boots, brother?" she demanded, her voice sharp, laced with contempt. It wasn't a question, it was an accusation, a challenge thrown down in the face of an impossible situation. She had always hated his subservience, his blind loyalty, his willingness to be nothing more than an extension of their father's ego. He had always been a spineless worm.

While her gaze remained fixed on her brother, Hong Li, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement began within the confines of the car. With the practiced grace of a seasoned professional, Hong Ye reached for her backup plan, a second phone tucked into a hidden pocket of her coat sleeve. It was a failsafe, a final measure of defiance. It was an old phone with a singular purpose: if she knew her life was about to end, she would take them down with her.

It was a small black phone, an antique by modern standards, it was so unassuming that even if they searched her, they might not recognize it for what it was. It was a last resort, and that is what made it so useful. Hong Ye had always been the strategic one, she was the one that planned for the eventuality, and her brother was just a mindless brute.

Before she could activate it, before she could unleash the data she had been carefully collecting for years, a rough fabric bag was thrust over her head, plunging her into a sudden, disorienting darkness. The air was stale and thick, filled with the smell of dust and mildew, and the world outside was nothing but darkness. She knew that they would not want to hear anything that she had to say, they would not want to listen to her, and that thought filled Hong Ye with anger.

Hong Ye did not fight, she did not struggle, she knew that it would be useless, and that only made her more certain of what she had to do now. She had been defeated here, but they would not win the war. She would not be his equal; she would never be seen as someone as important as her brother, but even a pawn can become a queen. And a queen, she thought, can sacrifice herself for the good of all. With the bag over her head and her vision gone, Hong Ye subtly pressed a small, almost undetectable button on the side of the phone. It was a single, silent click that would trigger the release of all the files she had compiled over the years.

The pricking of a needle against her shoulder was just an annoying fly bite on her way to the afterlife.

The files had been released, and her father would follow her to the grave.

The years of work, the carefully cultivated evidence, the years of building trust with sources, all of it was now set into motion, and while she was a prisoner, her evidence was about to be unleashed upon the world. It would be her final act of rebellion, her final blow against the man she hated the most. It was more than a leak, it was a flood, and it would sweep away everything that he had worked for.

Even in the darkness, even with her vision gone, Hong Ye could feel the victory, the quiet satisfaction that she had managed to get one over on them, even at the end of her life. They had won the battle, but they had lost the war.

She would make sure of it.