That same night, Liu Mengmeng knocked on her door.

  Zhuqing looked up from her textbook, expression neutral. “Come in.”

  The door opened slowly.

  Liu Mengmeng stepped inside, eyes bright, smile unusually gentle. She leaned casually against the desk, as if this were an ordinary sisterly visit.

  “Still studying?” she asked. “You’re really serious about the exams.”

  Zhuqing nodded. “There’s only two months left.”

  “Mm.” Liu Mengmeng hummed. “Time really flies, doesn’t it?”

  Zhuqing didn’t answer.

  Liu Mengmeng watched her closely, then sighed theatrically and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “You know,” she said lightly, “sometimes I feel like I’ve lived this life before.”

  Zhuqing’s pen didn’t pause.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah,” Liu Mengmeng laughed. “Like déjà vu. Things repeating. People making the same mistakes.”

  She leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Have you ever felt that?”

  Zhuqing finally looked up.

  Her gaze was calm. Curious. Mildly puzzled.

  “Dreams can make things feel familiar,” she said. “Especially when you’re stressed.”

  Liu Mengmeng’s smile tightened.

  “That’s it?” she pressed. “Nothing else?”

  Zhuqing shook her head. “Should there be?”

  Silence stretched.

  Liu Mengmeng studied her face carefully—searching for cracks, for guilt, for recognition.

  Nothing.

  This Zhuqing looked exactly like the one she remembered at the beginning of everything.

  Quiet. Dull. Easy to control.

  Liu Mengmeng relaxed visibly.

  She laughed again, brighter this time. “Guess I’ve been watching too many dramas.”

  She stood. “Don’t study too late.”

  When the door closed behind her, Zhuqing lowered her gaze back to the page.

  Only then did her fingers tighten slightly around the pen.

  Ten minutes later, laughter echoed down the hallway.

  Liu Mengmeng was already on the phone.

  “I’m coming,” she said cheerfully. “Of course I am. I told you—I’m free tonight.”

  The sound of heels faded.

  She left the house glowing with excitement.

  Zhuqing listened until the noise was gone.

  Then she returned to her work.

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  Past midnight, her desk lamp was still on.

  Books lay open, neatly arranged. Notes filled the margins—precise, efficient.

  When she finally closed the last practice paper, she didn’t go to bed.

  She opened her laptop.

  NetherCat.

  The username blinked softly on the screen.

  If she wanted access to the Shaw family, she couldn’t approach them as Liu Zhuqing.

  But NetherCat?

  That was different.

  The financial world respected results.

  And fearfully respected mystery.

  She cracked her knuckles and began.

  Her hacking skills weren’t something the system had given her. They were old. Learned painfully in her original life, not something that liu zhuqing had or something that came from the system .

  She didn’t break systems. She slipped between them.

  By dawn, three things had changed:

  A financial analysis thread praising “NetherCat’s predictive accuracy” quietly trended in a closed investors’ forum

  A mid-sized fund unknowingly mirrored her trades

  Her capital increased again—steady, controlled, undeniable

  She left traces on purpose.

  Just enough to be noticed.

  By the end of the month, “NetherCat” was no longer just a username.

  It was a rumor.

  A presence.

  Someone with information before information existed.

  Zhuqing closed the laptop and stretched.

  Next—

  The Shaw family.

  But before that—

  The Liu family’s secrets.

  Opportunity came sooner than expected.

  The dining hall was unusually formal that evening.

  Mr. Liu sat at the head of the table, jacket already draped over the chair beside him, phone in hand. His expression was brisk—business first, family second. “There’s a charity dinner tonight,” he said without preamble. “The Shaw family will be there. This isn’t optional.”

  Liu Mengmeng’s eyes lit up instantly. “Oh?” she said brightly. “That’s the one hosted by the Municipal Commerce Association, right?” Mr. Liu nodded. “Yes. Several prominent families will attend.”

  Liu Mengmeng smiled—then her gaze slid, deliberately, toward Zhuqing. She tilted her head, feigning concern. “Dad,” she said sweetly, “should Sister Zhuqing really go?”

  The table stilled. Zhuqing paused mid-bite, then looked up, expression mild. “If Father wants me to go, I can.” Liu Mengmeng laughed lightly, covering her mouth.

  “That’s not what I meant.” She sighed theatrically. “I’m just worried about her. Those dinners can be overwhelming. So many important people… What if she says the wrong thing?”

  Mr. Liu frowned slightly. “She knows how to behave.”

  “Does she?” Liu Mengmeng tilted her head again. “I mean, she’s been studying all the time lately. Isn’t it exhausting? What if she looks tired? People might misunderstand.”

  Zhuqing lowered her eyes, appearing hesitant.

  “I can stay quiet,” she said softly. “I won’t cause trouble.”

  Liu Mengmeng’s smile widened.

  “That’s exactly the problem,” she said gently. “Staying quiet at a charity dinner looks… awkward.”

  Her tone was careful, every word coated in concern.

  “And,” she added casually, “since the Shaw family is there, people might get confused about… expectations.”

  The implication was obvious.

  Mr. Liu’s expression darkened.

  Before he could speak, Yun Wantang set down her teacup.

  “There’s no need for Zhuqing to attend,” she said calmly.

  Both of them turned toward her.

  “She has the college entrance exams coming up,” Yun Wantang continued. “At this stage, every point matters. If she performs well, it brings honor to the Liu family.”

  She smiled faintly.

  “Especially in front of the Shaw family.”

  That did it.

  Mr. Liu nodded. “You’re right.”

  He looked at Zhuqing. “Stay home. Focus on your studies.”

  Zhuqing immediately stood and bowed her head.

  “Yes, Father.”

  Liu Mengmeng clenched her fingers under the table—but quickly relaxed, forcing a smile.

  “See?” she said lightly. “This is better for everyone.”

  Zhuqing said nothing.

  She watched them leave later—wrapped in expensive coats, voices full of anticipation—while the manor grew quiet behind her.

  And she smiled as she watched them leave.

  The servants were busy in the east wing.

  Perfect.

  She slipped down the corridor, fingers moving swiftly over her phone. The surveillance feed looped seamlessly—empty hallway, unchanged timestamps.

  Inside the study, the air smelled of old paper and cedar. She searched methodically. Books. Cabinets. Desk drawers.

  Then—

  A false panel.

  Her breath stilled. Behind it was a narrow door. A hidden room. Inside: documents. USB drives. A locked safe. She didn’t open everything—only photographed, copied, cataloged.

  And then she saw it. Records of money transfers. Her mother’s name. Dates from before her death.

  Funds redirected—not to the Liu family—but elsewhere.

  The Shaw family being of of them.

  Relics listed. Artifacts. Trust holdings.

  she understood that the current body owner's mother had known.

  About the affair. About the betrayal. And she had prepared.

  Zhuqing smiled as she thought to her self this entry task is easy ,thankfully that miss brooks didnt send her to a hellish level wolrd.

  There was more.

  Files labeled discreetly:

  Xu Family — illegal land acquisition ,Chen Family — offshore tax evasion , Huang Family — medical bribery , Zhao Family — stock manipulation ,Lin Family — forged inheritance documents , Five families.Five pressure points. Enough to cause chaos.

  She restored everything exactly as it was, erased her presence, and replaced the footage.

  When the family returned late that night, laughing and tired, the study was untouched.

  No one noticed a thing.

  Zhuqing lay in bed, eyes open, mind racing—not with fear, but anticipation.

  this character's mother hadn’t been weak.

  She’d been ready.

  And now—

  So was Zhuqing.