Feng Qian was halfway through her morning facial routine when her phone didn't explode with notifications.
She frowned, towel around her shoulders, silk robe clinging to her like a second skin. She picked up her phone and refreshed the gossip forums.
Nothing.
Not even a whisper of scandal.
Her eye twitched.
"Mom!" she shouted.
Madam Lin entered, already dressed in a pale green cheongsam. Calm. Controlled.
"Something wrong?"
Feng Qian shoved the phone at her. "Where is it?! The post! The story! It was scheduled! The blogger confirmed last night! She should be getting dragged right now!"
Madam Lin's serene expression faltered.
She took the phone, opened the private chat. The blogger's account—gone. Wiped. Their scheduled post history? Deleted.
She picked up her own tablet and started scrolling through news outlets.
Nothing.
Not even traces of digital crumbs.
"Impossible," she muttered.
Feng Qian paced like a caged cat. "This doesn't make sense! We bribed the assistant who forged those records—what, did she pay them more than we did?"
"No." Madam Lin's voice was low now. Cautious. "This isn't Xiao Xiao's doing. Not directly."
Feng Qian paused. "Then wh hio?"
Madam Lin's fingers gripped u jade bracelet tightly. "Only someonne powerful enough to control the media, erase records, and silence a paid mole could've stopped this."
Her eyes darkened.
"Someone is protecting her."
Feng Qian froze.
Protecting?
Her? Feng Xiao Xiao, the thorn they'd always stepped on?
"No. No way. That's not possible. She's just some spoiled little brat with a new attitude!"
Madam Lin didn't reply.
Because deep down, she already knew—
The little brat wasn't so little anymore.
And she wasn't alone.