Rain fell in heavy, relentless sheets over the city, turning the narrow alleyway behind the Grand Emperor Hotel into a dark, watery canyon.
Neon lights from the towering skyscraper above bled into the puddles, scattering pink and blue reflections across the cracked pavement.
Su Qingmei pressed her back against the damp brick wall, her breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps.
Cold air clung to her wet clothes, making her body tremble uncontrollably.
Shivering, she clutched her left hand to her chest, trying to hide the monstrous disfigurement.
Ugly, twisted scar tissue ran from her wrist to her knuckles, a jagged reminder of her family's brutal downfall.
A sudden gust of wind whistled through the narrow passage, carrying the sour stench of stagnant water.
Footsteps did not sound, but she felt a sudden drop in the air pressure around her.
Her phone, resting heavy in her pocket, felt like a ticking bomb.
Only an hour ago, that phone had vibrated with a call from a number she knew by heart—a number belonging to her father, who had been buried three years prior.
Gasps escaped her lips as she spun around, her heels clicking sharply against the wet asphalt.
She squinted into the gloom, but her eyes found only empty air and swirling mist.
Ye Feng watched her from the deep shadows of a recessed doorway, his eyes narrowed as he evaluated her posture.
His paranoid nature demanded he analyze every detail before making himself known.
Nothing seemed out of place, but the warning she had received echoed in his mind.
Zenith Coalition.
They wanted to unmask him, to drag him out of the shadows and dissect the secrets of his power.
Never,’ he whispered to himself, his voice lost in the patter of the rain.
Control was the only thing that kept him safe, and he would control her completely.
He stepped forward, his body remaining partially obscured by his active system parameters.
"You came," his voice murmured, seeming to come from every direction at once.
Su Qingmei jumped, her heels clicking sharply against the wet asphalt as she spun around.
"I... I had no choice," she stammered, her voice shaking as she searched the darkness.
"You always have a choice," Ye Feng replied, his tone dropping to a dangerous, quiet rasp.
She looked down, her gaze falling on her scarred hand.
"I have nothing left to give," she whispered, tears finally breaking through her stoic facade.
"Your family's ruin is of no concern to me," Ye Feng said, taking another step closer.
"Phantom Holdings," he stated, letting the name hang in the cold air.
"A shell corporation?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
"A shield," he corrected. "A visible giant to distract the public while I pull the strings from the dark. You will be the public face. The CEO. The woman who commands billions."
She let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.
"I am a monster. The media would tear me apart. No one will respect a leader who looks like she belongs in a burn ward."
Ye Feng looked at the ruined flesh, his expression remaining utterly blank.
Relationships were transactions, and a miracle was the ultimate currency.
"Hold it steady," he commanded.
Hesitation flickered, but something in his commanding tone forced her to obey.
She held her hand out, the cold rain washing over the pale, puckered tissue.
Within his mind, Ye Feng called upon the Omnipotent Wish System.
*System prompt: State your desire.*
"I wish to completely heal Su Qingmei's hand, restoring her skin to absolute perfection," he commanded silently.
A soft, golden warmth began to emanate from his hand, though to her, it looked like a trick of the light.
Warmth surged through her fingers, hot and soothing.
Su Qingmei gasped, her eyes stretching wide as she watched her skin begin to change.
Dead, scarred tissue began to dissolve, peeling away in microscopic flakes that vanished into the rain.
Underneath, fresh, flawless skin began to knit together with impossible speed.
No pain accompanied the process; only a deep, comforting warmth that spread up her arm and into her chest.
Her breath hitched as she watched the jagged pink lines fade into smooth, milky-white perfection.
Gravity seemed to lose its hold on Su Qingmei as she stared at her flawless skin.
She turned her hand over, flexing her fingers, her mind struggling to comprehend the godlike power she had just witnessed.
"This... this is impossible," she whispered, her voice cracking with pure, unadulterated awe.
Without a word, her knees buckled.
Down on the wet pavement she went, her knees slamming against the hard ground without her even noticing.
Her forehead lowered until it was nearly touching his shoes, her body trembling with a feverish intensity.
"You are a god," she whispered, her voice choked with tears.
Satisfaction, cold and calculated, filled Ye Feng's chest as he looked down at her.
People were simple creatures.
Give them a miracle, and they would trade their souls.
"Stand up," he commanded, his voice devoid of any warmth.
She scrambled to her feet, her eyes locked onto him like a devotee staring at an altar.
"From this moment on, you are the CEO of Phantom Holdings," he said.
"I will do exactly as you command, Master," she said, her voice steadying with a newfound, fanatical resolve.
"Good," he said, turning back toward the deeper shadows of the alley.
"Wait," she called out, "the phone call... what if they are watching us right now?"
"Let them try," Ye Feng replied coldly.
He took a step back, preparing to vanish completely into the rainy night.
Suddenly, a sharp, high-pitched hum cut through the sound of the falling rain.
High above, the heavy storm clouds parted slightly.
A high-altitude drone descends silently through the rain, its camera lens locking directly onto the empty space where Ye Feng stands.