“I’ve booked you the first flight out of here. A car will meet you at the airport and take you to your new house. Stay there until this is all over. Do you understand?”

Fei’er nodded. “But sir—”

“I’ve taken the necessary steps. Your father will be protected, and so will your siblings. But you’re my secretary. If anything goes wrong, they’ll come to you for information. I won’t let you get hurt.” He passed over the folder, exchanging it with the notebook. She clutched the folder to her chest.

“So this is…this is it.”

“Yes, Meimei.”

The way he was looking at her made her want to cry.

“If there’s anything else you want, please let me know. I will give you anything you want.”

The folder in her arms felt like it was burning through her sleeves. “I…”

“Anything you want,” Xiaokai told her, soft, and she gathered up her courage.

“I want…a kiss.”

His expression didn’t change.

“If that’s okay,” she added.

He leaned in.

She kissed his cheek.

He smiled then and let out his breath—almost a huff of a laugh. “That’s all?”

“That’s all,” she said. Her cheeks were burning now too. “Thank you for everything, Gege.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Meimei. Please just…stay safe for me.” He kissed her now, just a soft butterfly of a touch on her forehead, his lips soft and warm.

“Is this really the last time I’ll see you?”

“I don’t know. I hope not, but we’ll see.” One pat on her shoulder, and then the contact dropped away. “Leave now.”

She bowed one last time. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

NO MATTER HOW many times Zhang Weiran and Liu Xiaokai and Liu Xingyu combed through the Files, there was still one major problem:

“Bai Xue,” said Weiran. “There’s really nothing about him in the Files.”

“I never got any information on him,” Xiaokai said. “I’d assumed for a while that Sun Yue already all the information she thought she would need. But…it became clear especially recently that it’s because he’s the one at the top.”

“Because of the interrogation?”

“Interrogation?” Xingyu looked up from where he was still fruitlessly rooting through the Files. “What interrogation?”

A grimace flitted across Xiaokai’s face, and Weiran realized his mistake: he’d created a situation in which Xiaokai had to reveal why he was interrogated—that he had lied about Weiran’s existence, that he’d lied about Weiran leaving—and in turn he would also have to reveal why he knew what Weiran was doing in the first place, and why he would have to lie about it.

“Xiaokai—” He started, but Xiaokai just shook his head at him. It was time. It was time, and Weiran had decided for him.