Chapter 9: The Diversion Channel

Sitting in front of the screen, Tang Yan let out a dry laugh, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Huh, so what’s the point of getting to know me? Still scared I’ll threaten your number-one spot?"

The reply came instantly. "Not at all. Just curious to see how the underdog’s doing."

Tang Yan laughed even harder—mocking, sharp, almost cruel. "Oh, thanks a lot. Go ahead and get lost."

"Getting mad already? Wanna race? Underdog." Ye Mu repeated the phrase like a taunt.

At this moment, Ye Mu only had a vague sense that this guy—Chao Yang—was a man, someone whose style reminded him of his own. But Tang Yan was already boiling with rage. "Race what? I’d love to see just how much of a big deal you are, climbing over everyone else to get where you are."

Li Chuzhe sat back in his office chair, a predatory thrill creeping through him. "You know about that hot bounty posted on the hacker forums lately, right?"

"Yeah, I know. You wanna take it on together?"

"Mm-hmm. You up for it?" A smug emoji popped up after the message—something utterly unthinkable coming from Li Chuzhe himself.

Tang Yan fell silent. Ye Mu thought he’d scared the guy off. He was about to push further when he didn’t realize: Chao Yang wasn’t hesitating—he was contacting his organization.

【After some discussion, the organization agreed. You may fight Ye Mu under the alias Chao Yang. But here’s the condition: you must demand that he join us. And the match must be public.】

With that, Tang Yan sent the terms to Ye Mu.

Ye Mu responded without hesitation. "Fine. Your rules."

"You don’t like being tied down, do you? Joining an organization would just be another leash." (Chao Yang)

(Ye Mu): "So you think *you* can beat me? Hah. You’re dreaming."

(Chao Yang): "Go to hell."

Then Tang Yan closed the chat window—and turned his full attention to studying the details of the bounty.

Meanwhile, Li Chuzhe sent one more message to Chao Yang. No reply came. So he shut down his computer too.

Taking up hacking—it had always been this boy’s dream. But dreams and reality? They were oceans apart.

Sunlight slipped through the cracks in the floor-to-ceiling windows, warming Tang Yan’s face. After tidying up, he headed downstairs, noticing something odd about the house décor. But he said nothing. He just focused on playing his role—fake wife, perfect façade.

"Tang Yan, come with me today. I need to visit my grandfather’s place."

Tang Yan followed Li Chuzhe to the main estate. The layout was minimalist, yet every detail screamed old money, power, pedigree—nothing like the villa he’d lived in before.

Inside the grand hall, an elderly man sat upright in his chair, immaculately dressed, eyes deep and piercing—like they could strip Tang Yan bare.

Li Chuzhe took his hand and led him forward. "Grandfather, this is my wife, Tang Yan."

"Hmm. Miss Tang, please sit." The elder’s tone was warm, far friendlier than the cold-faced butler back home.

Tang Yan caught the shift in attitude and smiled brightly, practically skipping to the seat beside the old man. "Good morning, Grandfather."

The old man’s weathered hands gently patted Tang Yan’s arm, then rested on his cane. "Chuzhe, sit down too."

Li Chuzhe settled onto the sofa nearby. "Grandfather, we’re here to discuss the wedding. I want to hold it soon. Whatever you or Tang Yan want—decorations, venue, anything—just say the word."

"Miss Tang, what do you think, dear?" The elder smiled, kind-eyed, genuinely interested.

Tang Yan waved her hands frantically. "No need! I’m fine without a wedding." Honestly, the idea of marrying this rich kid and then immediately giving him a black eye made her cringe. She couldn’t bear the shame.

But Li Chuzhe was firm. He wouldn’t budge. In the end, Tang Yan gave in—reluctantly—but insisted on keeping it simple. No fanfare. No drama.

After a long conversation, the basic plan was set. Li Chuzhe immediately sent people to arrange everything—“Move fast,” he ordered.

Over dinner, the elder spoke up. "Miss Tang, my grandson is responsible. If he ever wrongs you in any way, don’t hesitate to come to me."

A random line, out of nowhere. Tang Yan dismissed it as polite small talk.

After leaving the estate, Tang Yan asked to go out alone. "Tang Yan, I’ve got no work today. Wherever you want to go, I’ll go with you."

"No thanks. I’d rather be by myself," Tang Yan politely declined. That reminder hit Li Chuzhe hard—the prenup clause: *mutual non-interference.*

He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it again. Watched helplessly as Tang Yan stepped out of the car.

Still, he couldn’t shake the unease. So quietly, he followed.

Walking down the street, Tang Yan realized he was being trailed. Without hesitation, he ducked into a public restroom.

Moments later, Li Chuzhe’s phone rang. Caller ID: Zhuang Qin.

He answered, listened briefly, hung up. Then waited outside for a few minutes—before driving away.

Tang Yan smirked at himself. "Real ex-girlfriend material, huh? One call and you’re gone."

Then he changed clothes—again.

This time, he became Su Xiao, daughter of the Su family. With a fresh face, a new identity, he walked into a high-end bar, flashing the Song family token. It worked. He found Song Xie Ling.

"Xie Ling brother… do you still remember me?" Tang Yan cooed, batting her lashes.

Song Xie Ling barely glanced up. He didn’t recognize the girl. Sure, she was pretty—but nothing compared to Tang Yan. "Don’t know you. Left door, first turn."

His rejection was oddly elegant—so awkward that Tang Yan didn’t know how to respond. So she pulled out her favorite move: shameless persistence.

She swayed closer, sitting just beside him—close, but not touching. "Xie Ling brother… remember that time on the swings when you peed your pants?"

Tang Yan mentally cursed the organization. What kind of sick joke was this? Digging up someone’s deepest embarrassment?

But the words landed like a punch.

Song Xie Ling’s pale face flushed instantly. "How… how did you know?"