After Huo Cheng left, Mr. Huo sat alone in his study for a long time before finally calling Huo Yan in.
“Yan.” His voice was thick with fatigue.
“Father, you wanted me?” Huo Yan stood politely by the door, puzzled at the summons.
“You know… Huo Cheng has gone.” Mr. Huo opened his eyes slowly.
“Gone? What do you mean—he left? On what grounds? How could he just leave like that?” Huo Yan’s composure snapped; panic and indignation flared in an instant.
Mr. Huo gave her a long look. Seeing her lose control, he kept his own expression steady. “Is that what you really think, Yan? That he did this?”
“Of course,” she said dismissively. “You saw the footage yourself. It was him—there’s nothing ambiguous about it.” Her confidence sounded rehearsed, as if the verdict were already sealed.
“Is it?” He looked back at the computer screen, which sat angled so that from where Huo Yan stood she couldn’t see the display. “I’m not so sure.”
“What else could it be, Father? We all saw it. The security camera—there’s no doubt.” Huo Yan pulled the familiar line of accusation as if any hesitation from her parents meant they were taking his side. “Huo Cheng may be smart—we all know you and Mother have always favored him—but being clever doesn’t make him immune to mistakes.”
Mr. Huo’s gaze stayed fixed on the monitor as he listened. He could see the tears threaten at the corners of his daughter’s eyes and felt that old parental pull to soften—but the steady loop on the screen kept his hands from giving in. Whatever light was left in his eyes dimmed.
“Yan,” he said, rising and tapping his cane on the floor, “I’ve never played favorites. It’s you who keeps saying that.” He set the cane down, then slid the laptop over so the screen faced her.
Huo Yan’s heart thudded when she finally saw what was playing. It was footage from the fourth floor of the Huo estate—an angle she had believed destroyed. She had created a fake clip once, confident the originals were gone; that lie had allowed her to sleep easy. Now the real video was on the screen, already playing. Her smile died; a flash of something hard and ugly crossed her face.
“Father, this is—” she started, voice breaking into sobs. “I didn’t do it. You know I didn’t. When the item was stolen, my second brother and I were locked in Huo Cheng’s cellar—he can confirm that. You know that. This is a mistake. I’m innocent.”
Her tears came easily, and in that posture—head bowed, lashes wet—she looked pitifully fragile. For a moment Mr. Huo’s heart almost softened; the image of the daughter he’d pampered tugged at him. Then he remembered what she had engineered, and his expression hardened again.
“You’d better give me a proper explanation, Yan,” he said quietly. “Or we’ll have the footage authenticated. We’ll find out whether it’s real or doctored.” The threat was softer than before, but unmistakable.
Something in Yan’s face shifted—satisfaction, quickly suppressed. She leaned into her performance. “Father, please—you can’t believe this is me. Anyone can doubt me, but you can’t. You know I would never do something like that!”
She watched him intently as she spoke, gauging his reaction.
Mr. Huo drew a faint breath. “Be honest. Was it you?”
“No.” Her answer was immediate, absolute.
“You know I’m not skilled with these systems. I couldn’t have altered the footage—hell, I can’t even access the family’s surveillance system.” Her tone carried an allusion. As a child, she had resented Huo Cheng’s reputation for being a genius. When he built the family’s new monitoring system, she had scoffed. The family had laughed it off as a child’s brag—except Huo Cheng’s work had been taken seriously.
She remembered that challenge like a wound. She hadn’t believed his system would be any good. Out of arrogance she’d taunted him publicly, so he’d proposed a bet: if she could break into his system, he’d admit he and the system were worthless; if she failed, she would apologize and admit she’d been wrong. She’d agreed without hesitation—certain she would win.
“I’ll get in in under an hour,” she’d declared then, chest puffed with youthful certitude.
“Don’t tempt fate—your words may come back to bite you,” Huo Cheng had replied with a smile, calm and unruffled.