In reality, the situation Hou Zihao faced during that period was far more difficult than Zhou Leqi’s. After all, he was at the center of the storm, surrounded by obstacles and mire.

If Yuan Jianxin had even taken precautions against Zhou Leqi, who was far away at SWD, how could he not be wary of him? Although Hou Zihao hadn’t been reassigned or dismissed, not long after returning to the Beijing office, he learned that Zhang Jun had suddenly gone on leave. He called Zhang, who was already abroad at that point. His voice sounded extremely weary as he said to Hou, “Zihao… Uncle can’t help you anymore.”

This meant that Zhang had also been completely uprooted by Yuan Jianxin.

It made sense. In a family-run business like Runyuan, what justice could there be? Yuan Jianxin was the local emperor here; he could close the company gates and do whatever he pleased. Controlling over seventy percent of the company’s shares, his word was law.

After losing Zhang Jun’s support, Hou Zihao, as an outsider brought in, had even less room to maneuver. He no longer had access to Runyuan’s core documents, and the people around him had likely received instructions from Yuan Jianxin—more or less, they were wary and hostile toward him. This made it even harder for him to find Zhong Heng.

The situation had reached a deadlock.

Yuan Jiahui also sensed the subtle changes in the atmosphere.

Although she had never been particularly interested in the specific operations of her father’s company and had always dreamed of starting her own cosmetics brand, things changed after Hou Zihao joined Runyuan. She began paying more attention to company affairs and frequently used the excuse of visiting Yuan Jianxin to secretly go to the company to see Hou Zihao. Through these frequent interactions, she clearly felt his marginalized position within the company, and his indifferent attitude toward everything only added to her concerns.

This was not a good sign.

She hoped he would treat Runyuan as if it were his own company and work hard to manage it. She also hoped he could get along well with her father. Work conflicts would inevitably spill over into their personal lives, and she didn’t want irreconcilable tensions to arise between the two men she cared about most.

Yuan Jiahui was deeply troubled and couldn’t resist having a long talk with her father. Later, she even cornered Yuan Jianxin in his study at home, demanding that he treat Hou Zihao better. Yuan Jianxin gave her a strange look and asked why. She replied matter-of-factly, “Because we’re going to get married anyway.”

To Yuan Jianxin, this was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“Marriage?” Yuan Jianxin laughed bitterly, “Child, do you really think that?”

“Does he love you? Will he cherish you? Can you two live happily together?” he strongly retorted, “Huihui, I’m not being closed-minded or disrespectful to you, but you know the outcome. Why are you so determined to jump into the fire?”

Deep down, Yuan Jiahui understood all these truths, but sometimes the obsessions of youth could run unimaginably deep. For a long time, Yuan Jiahui believed she was very close to achieving her wish. During her years at Oxford, he was like a lonely island, and she was the only one who knew where he came from. This gave her a false sense of intimacy, as if they shared a secret bond.

Her misjudgment of reality made it hard for her to accept the cruelty of the present. Even now, faced with her father’s advice, she showed excessive stubbornness. She even started to lash out at her father, crazily asking, “How can you say that Monkey doesn’t like me? Why are you always trying to separate us? You’ve been doing this since we were kids—I told you I like him! I’ve decided I’ll marry no one else but him!”

Her heartfelt speech was touching, but to Yuan Jianxin, it was a death sentence. How could his innocent daughter understand the distance between her and Su Ruini’s son? At least there was a car accident and a prison sentence separating them.

But he couldn’t tell her the truth, which meant he couldn’t convince her. This forced Yuan Jianxin to consider another possibility: What if… Huihui really married Hou Zihao?

“Invite Zihao over for dinner,” Yuan Jianxin sighed heavily, his eyes revealing a hidden gloominess and suspicion, “I’ll personally… hear his thoughts.”

And so, Hou Zihao stepped through the doors of the Yuan family once again. This time, however, there was an additional step—a private conversation with Yuan Jianxin in the study.

By then, both men essentially knew each other’s secrets: Hou Zihao knew the evil deeds Yuan Jianxin had committed seven years ago, and Yuan Jianxin knew that Hou Zihao had uncovered the clues and was trying to overturn the case. The surface peace could only be maintained when others were present; during their private meeting, the tension was palpable.

The atmosphere was so tense it felt almost ready to snap.

The person who broke the silence was Yuan Jianxin. Sitting behind his large desk, he appeared quite relaxed, exuding an air of calm confidence. He spoke to Hou Zihao, “Relax, child. Uncle isn’t going to kill you.”

As he spoke, there was a smile on his lips, as if he were joking, but the malevolence in his eyes was unmistakable, leaving no doubt about his intent and determination to take extreme measures if necessary.

Hou Zihao, on the other hand, was even more relaxed than Yuan Jianxin. He no longer bothered to maintain a facade of civility, his coldness fully exposed. He said, “If you can kill me, then do it. Otherwise, the final outcome is something neither you nor Runyuan will like.”

His words were simple, his gaze refined, but Yuan Jianxin knew that beneath his calm exterior lay a volcano of hatred that would one day erupt with destructive force. It would be a fight to the death, with no end until one side was annihilated.

And that was not the outcome he wanted.

He was old now, at an age where he should be enjoying retirement and the happiness of family life. Who would want to ruin their reputation and end up in prison? Who would want to watch the empire they had painstakingly built, even staining their hands with sin, crumble to dust before their eyes?

He wanted reconciliation… and for that, he was willing to pay a high price.

“Zihao,” Yuan Jianxin’s tone softened, and instead of continuing to confront the young man, he shifted to a seemingly warm topic, “A few days ago, Huihui came to talk to me about your future. You two have known each other since childhood, and your relationship deserves a conclusion. Both her mother and I hope you two can settle down…”

“What do you think? When do you plan to marry Huihui?”

This was a highly skillful negotiation.

Marriage was merely a trivial medium of interest. What Yuan Jianxin was truly offering was the inheritance rights hidden behind this marital transaction. If Hou Zihao married Yuan Jiahui, who would be the actual person in charge of the company after Yuan Jianxin retired? Even if Hou Zihao didn’t personally take over, the vast fortune would eventually pass to him and Yuan Jiahui’s children. Children were the universal solution—bloodlines could untangle countless knots, turn enemies into family, and resolve conflicts.

Two birds with one stone—how perfect.

Yuan Jianxin desperately hoped that all disputes could end here. Though he knew that even if Hou Zihao agreed at this moment, their sham “family” would still be riddled with cracks. But even so, it was far better than Hou Zihao angrily destroying everything Yuan Jianxin had painstakingly built.

However, what he received from Hou Zihao was only deeper coldness—and disdain.

Is this all?

No remorse, no confession, not even an apology.

Just proposing a new, shameless deal?

Hou Zihao didn’t even bother to speak anymore. Those who see the essence are often silent. He didn’t even give a single thought or word of response, standing up and walking directly toward the door. His back revealed a sense of finality, carrying an apocalyptic message.

…He wouldn’t stop.

“Zihao!” Yuan Jianxin stood up, leaning on the desk to call him back.

For a moment, his steps paused.

“Do you think I could have done such a big thing alone?” Yuan Jianxin’s murky eyes concealed too much of the world’s ugliness and filth. As someone who had walked this dark path, his resume was overflowing with darkness. “Back then, Haoting took too big a piece of the cake… There’s no way you can overturn the verdict.”

He didn’t spell it out, but the meaning was clear.

Too many people wanted to drag Su Ruini down back then. Greedy flies always follow the scent. Haoting’s collapse allowed too many to profit, and the redistribution of interests fattened a group of greedy stomachs. Yuan Jianxin was saying that even if it wasn’t him who struck, someone else would have torn out Haoting’s throat… Behind this matter, Yuan Jianxin had accomplices and beneficiaries. Those unseen people might sit in higher positions, part of a vast interest group. Everyone would fight tooth and nail to prevent him from overturning the case.

The truth was buried under layers of mud. He and his friends had found it… but when it came time to speak, they discovered their throats were shackled.

…He was walking a nearly impossible path.

But what of it?

Could he choose to forget his father, who fell in a pool of blood seven years ago?

Could he ignore his mother, who still bore a bad name and was locked in prison with her hair shorn?

The road he must walk…

…Even if it was a dead-end path, he would stake everything to walk it.

After tearing off the mask with Yuan Jianxin, Hou Zihao was met with increasingly grim news brought back by Yan Lin.

Yan Lin had many friends and seniors in the legal circle. During this time, he contacted many people and explored numerous avenues, but the information he received was universally pessimistic.

Even without considering certain intangible factors, reopening a case that had already been judged seven years ago was itself an enormous challenge. According to Article 242 of the Criminal Law, necessary conditions for a retrial included: new evidence emerging, original evidence being insufficient or contradictory, errors in the application of the law in the original judgment, violations of legal procedures in the original litigation, and corruption or illegal conduct by the judges.

The latter conditions were largely inapplicable to their case. They could only focus on the first condition.

But the evidence they currently possessed was far from sufficient. Was Luo Siyu a witness? Yes, but obviously not as direct as Zhong Heng. And now, they couldn’t even find Zhong Heng. Worse still, even Luo Siyu had changed her story.

She must have been bribed or threatened by Yuan Jianxin. Her demeanor had completely changed, becoming aggressive and belligerent. When Yan Lin called her, she sharply shouted, “Stop contacting me! I’ve already said I don’t know anything! The recording last time? That was you forcing me to say those things when I was drunk! Sue me? Go ahead! Do you have evidence that I was at his house?”

Sharp-tongued and refusing to admit anything, her behavior further worsened an already dire situation.