Chapter 25

Chapter 25

After dinner, Wen Qishan stopped Wen Jueqian as he was about to leave.

"Jueqian, come to the study."

Wen Juelang followed him in.

The study door closed.

Wen Qishan sat down behind the wide cherrywood desk, the lamplight falling across his face, carving out a stern expression.

Wen Juelang stood at his father's side, arms crossed, his stance radiating an unspoken pressure.

Wen Jueqian sat down in the chair across from them, back straight, silently waiting.

"The company recently developed a new intraoperative neural monitor," Wen Qishan said, his voice steady. "Technically, it's 15% more accurate than anything on the market, and the patent's already been filed."

The moment Wen Jueqian heard the words "neural monitor," his heart gave an almost imperceptible clench.

But his face gave nothing away. He just nodded calmly. "That's good news."

Wen Juelang jumped in, his tone eager. "Dad's put nearly two years into this project. The R&D team worked around the clock, and it's finally paid off. Clinical trial feedback has been excellent."

Wen Jueqian didn't answer. He dropped his gaze, as if mulling something over, then looked up at Wen Juelang. "The neural monitor market isn't just the medical field."

"It can also be adapted for Holo-Pods. Even though Holo-Pod manufacturers all play up safety in their marketing, the risk of neurological damage is still there."

He developed full-immersion games, so he knew what he was talking about when it came to these adjacent industries.

Both men listened closely and nodded along.

"Most of the neural monitoring modules in Holo-Pods on the market right now aren't precise enough."

He glanced at both of them and smiled. "If Wenyuan's monitor really is as precise as you say—"

Wen Juelang frowned, his tone hardening. "The precision improvement is backed by real experimental data."

Wen Jueqian didn't respond to that. He'd have 99 verify the data later.

"If the neural monitor is adapted for Holo-Pods—able to warn users or force a logout the moment their nerves go abnormal—then Holo-Pod safety would improve massively."

Wen Jueqian leaned in, looking serious.

"That market's future is way more promising than the medical device itself."

Wen Qishan and Wen Juelang exchanged a look, surprise flickering in their eyes before settling into deeper satisfaction.

They figured the next part would be easier to bring up now.

Wen Qishan relaxed a little, elbows on the desk, his voice softening. "But right now we're dealing with production issues. If we add the Holo-Pod adaptation R&D you mentioned, the upfront cost would be steep."

He looked at Wen Jueqian, a hint of hope in his eyes. "Most of the company's profits over the years have been sunk into R&D. Now that the product's ready, we're stuck on production funding."

Wen Jueqian didn't respond.

The study went quiet for a moment.

The desk lamp shone right on him, putting every reaction on display.

Wen Qishan happened to sit right at the edge of the light, half his face lost in shadow.

Wen Jueqian's mind drifted back to the words that had foretold the future.

After Wenyuan Medical's neural monitor hit the market, it did get a flood of orders from Ruiping Kanghe Hospital and several big hospitals.

And expanding into the Holo-Pod market was Ruijia Capital's idea too.

Ruijia Capital led the investment, and Wenyuan Medical teamed up with Ruiping Kanghe to set up the "Holo-Pod Neural Safety Joint Lab."

During that stretch, Wenyuan Medical was thriving—stock climbing steadily, making a name in the medical device space.

But later in the story, that lab blew up.

An external audit found major problems with how the R&D funds were used—huge sums had been moved overseas beyond the Federation's reach, while the project showed no real progress.

Ruiping Kanghe, as a major shareholder, took heavy losses but managed to ride it out thanks to its deep pockets.

Wenyuan Medical wasn't so lucky. Its credibility tanked, orders got cancelled left and right, suppliers came knocking for payment, stock got dumped, and the company ended up in bankruptcy liquidation.

When the investigation finally wrapped up, the one who'd moved the money was Wen Juelang.

He was caught by the Federal Economic Crime Investigation Bureau trying to flee the country, and during the struggle, he fell into the sea and drowned.

And Wen Jueqian's Lingjing Era, having invested in the promising new Holo-Pod safety tech, watched that money go down the drain too.

At the board meeting, shareholders came after him, questioning his judgment and claiming he'd hurt the company's interests, trying to oust him and Qi Yi from their positions.

Because of his personal ties to Wenyuan Medical, people started wondering if he was in on the embezzlement too.

The real kicker was that Wen Qishan resented him for not trusting Wen Juelang, and Wen Yanxu for not bailing out Wenyuan. In the end, he told Wen Jueqian: "From today on, you're no longer my son."

Those words flashed through Wen Jueqian's mind, sending a chill down his spine.

"Jueqian."

Wen Qishan's voice pulled him back to the present.

"This product's got real potential." Wen Qishan softened his tone, taking on a note of earnest advice. "If we can get it into production and out to market, Wenyuan might just use this chance to level up."

He leaned forward again, his whole figure now in the lamplight, the natural pressure of an Alpha radiating off him.

"Jueqian, can you bring this up with Yanxu? The Wen family's got investments in the medical field too. See if they'd be interested in the project. We don't need much—just enough to cover the initial production shortfall."

Wen Juelang chimed in: "That's right, Jueqian. If Wenyuan does well, that's support for you too. Like you said, advances in Holo-Pod tech benefit your company's full-immersion games too. And once you marry into the Wen family, you'll have more leverage."

Wen Jueqian remained silent.

He could feel the unspoken pressure in the air.

His father and older brother were on the same side, while he sat alone across from them—that setup alone said something.

Alpha and Beta, father and son, the ones with expectations and the one expected to meet them.

After a long pause, Wen Jueqian finally spoke, his voice giving nothing away. "I need to see the actual materials. I can't judge based on descriptions alone."

A flicker of satisfaction crossed Wen Qishan's eyes.

His tone was breezy. "Everything's ready. I'll have my secretary send it over tomorrow."

Then he added seriously, "But Jueqian, we need to move on this fast. The equipment supplier is really pushing on the payment deadline."

Wen Jueqian nodded and stood up. "Okay, if that's all, I'm heading out."

In the living room on the first floor, Qin Jingqiu was holding her grandson while watching TV.

She was getting older and couldn't get used to all this holographic entertainment nowadays, still liking shows the old-fashioned way.

Li Yi sat nearby scrolling on her light-brain, glancing up at the kid now and then.

A cartoon was playing, and the kid was totally into it, giggling every now and then.

Qin Jingqiu was playing with him when she looked up and saw Wen Jueqian coming downstairs. She quickly got up.

"Jueqian, you're leaving already? Stay a bit longer—I just had someone cut up some fruit. Eat some before you leave."

Wen Jueqian put on his coat, his tone icy. "No thanks, Mom. I've got stuff to do tomorrow."

He nodded at the two bodyguards as they stepped forward, then pushed open the door and stepped out into the night.

Behind him, Qin Jingqiu's voice drifted faintly: "That boy, he never stays long when he comes home..."

The second the aircraft door closed, those voices were cut off completely.

Wen Jueqian slumped into his seat and shut his eyes.

He didn't like going back to the Wen family because he hated moments like this.

Scheming mixed with family affection, family affection wrapped up in scheming—every sentence had a double meaning, every visit was about squeezing out some benefit.

They always wanted to use him to get favors out of Wen Yanxu.

He opened his eyes and looked at his blurred reflection on the window glass—a face so striking it was often mistaken for an Omega's.

But at the end of the day, he was just a Beta.

So he was looked down on, never trusted with anything important, and meant to play second fiddle to his Alpha brother.

His light-brain buzzed.

W: Coming back tonight?

Wen Jueqian stared at the text for a few seconds.

Wen Yanxu could probably tell too—how down he got every time he saw his family.

He could never hide how vulnerable he felt.

Yun: Already on my way.

W: Come home early. I have a gift for you.

Yun: What is it?

Wen Yanxu didn't reply.

Curiosity sparked, and the bad feelings from the Wen family faded to the background.

The ride back took less than ten minutes.

Wen Jueqian leaned against the elevator wall, watching the floor numbers climb one by one.

In the seven years he'd been with Wen Yanxu, Wen Jueqian had never asked for anything, but the gifts never stopped coming.

Wen Yanxu always paid quiet attention to what he liked, and the gifts always managed to surprise him.

Beyond that, from school to work, Wen Yanxu had given him countless opportunities other people could only dream of.

When Lingjing Era was going through its toughest time, Wen Yanxu had put in extra money under his own name without diluting anyone's shares. When Wen Jueqian wanted to meet a big name in holographic tech, Wen Yanxu had set up a dinner with the guy by the very next day.

What would it be this time?

By the time he got off the elevator, his step was already lighter. The heaviness from the Wen family had mostly lifted without him even noticing.

Wen Yanxu was sitting in the living room, waiting—who knew for how long.

On the coffee table sat a black gift box.

"You're back." Wen Yanxu stood up and walked over to him, his eyes lingering on his face for a second. He didn't ask if Wen Jueqian was upset.

He just reached out and ruffled his hair, then picked up the gift box from the coffee table and handed it over.

"Open it."

Wen Jueqian lifted the lid.

Inside was an armband.

A silver-gray ultra-light alloy frame, its surface covered in a layer of matte bio-material casing.

The overall design was clean and streamlined.

Wen Jueqian looked up, puzzled, at Wen Yanxu.

Wen Yanxu said, "It's a neural sync pulse device—the latest personal defense gear."

He took the armband out of the box and gestured for Wen Jueqian to extend his arm.

Wen Yanxu clasped the armband around his arm and adjusted the fit.

"It works by firing highly focused micro-electromagnetic pulses that mess with the target's central nervous system." After fastening it, Wen Yanxu's fingers lingered on his skin for a moment.

"There are two modes."

"The first is a quick jolt that leaves the target dizzy and unable to move for a bit, but causes no permanent damage."

"The second," his voice dropped slightly, "is destruction mode. It can fry nearby electronics, or permanently damage living tissue."

Wen Jueqian looked at the armband on his arm, then at Wen Yanxu.

"I started preparing it after you were kidnapped last time." Wen Yanxu's voice was calm, but Wen Jueqian could hear the suppressed emotion beneath it.

"Do you like it?"

Wen Jueqian nodded.

His fingertips traced over the surface of the armband, the bio-shell warming against his skin, becoming like part of it.

"I just didn't see this coming," he said.

"There's still a lot you haven't expected." Wen Yanxu reached out, pulling him closer, looking down at him. "Qianqian, as much as I want to always be by your side to protect you, you need to be able to protect yourself when the time comes."

Wen Jueqian looked up, meeting his eyes, which were full of love.

"Thank you."

Wen Yanxu said nothing, only lowered his head and pressed a kiss to his forehead.