Chapter 52 Mother

"What?!" Lin Feifei and Lu Xingyu cried out at the same time.

"What Wen Ran wants to see the most right now is our panic and our self-defeating chaos." Xu Yuan's gaze never left Jiang Yi's face, trying to use her own calmness to quench the dangerous fire burning deep in his eyes. "The more indifferent we appear, the more he will doubt his own judgment, and his psychological advantage will be gradually dismantled. What we need to do right now is not to rush into an unprepared encounter, but to seize the precious time Wen Zhenghua has bought for us, and polish the product 'Deep Sea Echo' into our sharpest sword. Once our sword is sharp enough, we will strike a fatal blow."

This was a plan rational to the point of being ruthless.

It was also the only correct choice under the current circumstances.

Though reluctant and unreconciled, Lin Feifei and Lu Xingyu understood that Xu Yuan was right.

However—

"Stop."

Jiang Yi finally spoke.

His voice was entirely flat, devoid of any fluctuation, yet it sounded like an absolute command that instantly severed all discussion.

He slowly raised his head, his bottomless eyes sweeping past Lu Xingyu and Lin Feifei one by one, before finally resting on Xu Yuan's face.

"All plans are secondary."

"The primary objective is her absolute safety."

"Until that is guaranteed," he enunciated every single word, his voice quiet yet heavy as a mountain, driving a deep imprint into everyone's heart, "everything else is completely meaningless."

The meeting broke up in discord.

Or rather, it was forcibly terminated by Jiang Yi's unquestionable autocracy.

He insisted on personally walking Xu Yuan back to her dormitory, looking as though he feared that the slightest blink on his part would cause her to vanish into thin air.

The campus of Binhai University under the night sky was utterly silent. The summer night breeze carried a hint of chill, rustling the leaves of the camphor trees lining both sides of the path.

The two of them walked one after the other, neither speaking a word.

The dim streetlights stretched their shadows very long, and for a brief moment, the shadows intertwined before parting again.

Just as they reached the entrance of the girls' dormitory building, Jiang Yi suddenly halted.

Xu Yuan stopped as well, looking at him in confusion.

She watched as he took out his own phone, retrieved her phone from her hands, and lowered his head, operating them in silence.

His slender fingers tapped rapidly across the screen, the streetlight casting a glow upon his hard-lined profile, coating him in a halo that was both gentle and immensely desolate.

"What are you doing?" Xu Yuan could not help asking softly.

Jiang Yi did not look at her, keeping his head lowered as he spoke in a professional, emotionless, and icy tone.

"Project risk management."

"What?"

"You are the core asset of the 'Deep Sea Echo' project," he finally finished his operation and handed the phone back to her, his voice continuing in a flat monotone, much like reciting a product manual. "We must ensure the asset's functions remain intact without suffering any accidental depreciation."

Xu Yuan looked down at her phone screen.

There, she noticed a newly added application with an icon shaped like a dark blue shield—something she had never seen before.

"I have installed the highest-level security protocol for you," Jiang Yi's voice came from above, devoid of any discernible emotion. "It includes real-time location tracking, ambient audio monitoring, and a one-touch alarm. The alarm connects directly to me, Lu Xingyu, and the campus security office's twenty-four-hour monitoring center."

Xu Yuan's heart trembled violently.

She slowly raised her head to look at the young man before her.

He called her an "asset."

He called this "risk management."

Yet she could clearly see his tightly clenched jawline and his eyes, made exceptionally deep—and carrying a trace of disarray—by tension and unease beneath the streetlight.

This was no security protocol at all.

This was unmistakably a pair of shackles.

A pair of unique, tender shackles custom-crafted for her out of his deepest fears and anxieties.

And she had never felt so safe in her entire life.

"Jiang Yi," she softly called his name.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

Jiang Yi's body visibly stiffened.

As if at a loss for how to respond to those two words, he awkwardly averted his gaze and looked elsewhere.

After a long while, he turned his head back to look at her.

This time, all pretense and evasion were gone from his eyes, replaced solely by a stubborn, unyielding command.

"From now on, without me, you are not allowed to go anywhere alone."

His voice was very low, yet it carried an irresistible force.

"This is not a request."

Upon returning to the dormitory, Lin Feifei had already boiled hot water and made the bed, insisting on sharing the same mattress with her.

Xu Yuan knew this was her own way of protecting her.

She did not refuse.

Lying in bed, the two chatted casually, trying to use light topics to dispel the gloom lingering in their hearts.

Just as Xu Yuan was about to let down her guard and drift into a deep sleep amidst this warm protection—

The laptop sitting on her bedside table suddenly emitted a crisp chime.

It was a new email.

Xu Yuan's heart leaped into her throat.

"Don't look!" Reacting faster than her, Lin Feifei pressed her hand down over Xu Yuan's before she could reach for the computer. "It must be from that freak! Ignore him!"

Xu Yuan hesitated.

Reason told her that Lin Feifei was right.

Yet...

Driven by an inexplicable impulse, she reached for the computer anyway and clicked on the email.

The sender was anonymous, and the subject line was blank.

Inside the body of the email, there was only a single attachment.

An image.

Xu Yuan's fingers hovered over the touchpad for a few seconds before she finally clicked it.

The very instant the image loaded, all the blood in Xu Yuan's body seemed to freeze completely.

It was a photograph.

A photograph taken with a telephoto lens from an extremely distant vantage point.

In the photograph was her mother.

She was sitting alone on a park bench, looking haggard, her gaze vacant as she stared into the distance. In the background behind her stood the outpatient building of a hospital.

And what plunged Xu Yuan into an icy abyss was the newspaper held in her mother's hands.

A corner of the newspaper was caught and lifted by the wind.

The date, printed in bold black Song typeface, was as stark and clear as a brand from hell.

It was today.

Clatter.

The laptop slipped from her numb fingertips and crashed heavily onto the floor.

Producing a muffled, resounding thud.