The click-clack of keystrokes echoed with urgent clarity in the near-silence—so sharp it seemed to drown out even his own heartbeat. Chu Tianyi's eyes, bloodshot from hours of intense concentration on the computer screen, burned with fatigue, yet he dared not afford himself a moment's respite. Like a lone traveler on the brink of an uncharted journey, he devoured every scrap of information about the mysterious continent ahead—no matter how fragmentary the rumors or fleeting the mentions.
He shut out all external distractions: the complex symphony of sympathy, mockery, and Schadenfreude in his colleagues' glances, and the anguished protests of his body, strained by continuous use of the Heart-Hunting Manual and brutal sleep deprivation. Every fiber of his being focused on the woman who would decide his fate—Li Manting—and the sprawling empire she commanded: Manting International.
Feichi Group, ranked among the top enterprises in Star City, provided Chu—a mere "office ant"—with a rare window into global business intelligence platforms. Its internal network linked to major domestic and international commercial databases and premium industry-insight services, granting him a priceless glimpse of the high echelons he could only dream of.
His first search targeted detailed dossiers on Manting International. Headquartered in Europe's fashion capital, this multinational titan specialized in bespoke luxury jewelry and high-end fashion accessories. Star City served as its most critical Asia-Pacific stronghold and profit engine. Public financial reports brimming with technical jargon, in-depth media analyses, and industry white papers all painted a picture of explosive growth—especially among young, high-net-worth clients craving individuality. The brand's influence and market share soared, hinting at its looming ascension to industry dominance. And presiding over it all stood the woman he would soon confront: Li Manting herself.
Quickly, Chu narrowed his focus to Li Manting's personal profile. His screen filled like a waterfall with images and video stills of her in every conceivable setting: gracing international business forums under blinding spotlights, delivering elegant speeches at glittering charity galas, or as a VIP guest front and center at top-tier fashion shows. In each, her makeup was impeccably precise, as if calibrated by a scientific instrument; her attire evoked cover shots from leading fashion magazines—each ensemble sculpted to accentuate her mature, full-bodied allure while projecting the unassailable authority of a business queen.
Her most arresting feature, however, were her phoenix eyes—sharp, fathomless, as though they could dissect every hidden motive. Her lips, painted a bold, saturated red, were habitually pressed into a thin, aristocratic line—simultaneously seductive and cold. Even in the rare photos where a hint of a smile touched her lips, Chu felt an undercurrent of bone-chilling frost.
"Enchanting diva … venomous beauty … Ice Queen …" The office gossip buzzed with such epithets. Admittedly, Li Manting wielded a lethal allure few men could resist—and a ruthless power to destroy anyone foolish enough to stray too close.
In the handful of public interviews with top financial media, her poise and eloquence were flawless—precise, incisive, and far beyond the ordinary. Whether dissecting macroeconomic trends or forecasting the luxury market's future, she displayed a near-supernatural strategic acumen.
"Design prodigy," "boardroom Valkyrie," "ever-blooming alchemist of style," "ultimate hunter in a man's domain"—the accolades littered both domestic and international headlines, elevating her to near-mythical status.
Yet beneath that glittering public persona lay darker whispers. Guided by his sharpened instincts—and further refined by the Heart-Hunting Manual—Chu unearthed paid-for industry-forum posts and anonymous exposés painting Manting International's contracts as modern-day soul-binding pacts, squeezing partners to the brink before unleashing hidden forces to crush dissenters. Other reports depicted Li Manting's volatility: one moment gracious and charming, the next erupting in a tirade over a sideways glance, calling security to haul offenders out like trash.
"It seems the radiant commercial goddess and the merciless vipress of rumor are two sides of the same iron will," Chu mused as he meticulously saved a comprehensive document mapping her public itinerary, media coverage, and the swirling legends.
But these gleaming A-side profiles and chilling B-side rumors only sketched broad contours. The true key to his "death mission" lay deeper—within the conflict-laden shadows of her unspoken fears and hidden vulnerabilities. To penetrate those layers, he'd need the relentless precision of the Heart-Hunting Manual and close-range contact.
He massaged his throbbing temples, recalling his initial trials. Each use of the Manual exacted a savage psychic toll—like sprinting at maximum capacity under crushing weight. The more powerful and emotionally turbulent the target, the heavier the mental strain—and the greater the risk of screaming pain, even death.
"To wield this double-edged sword," he reminded himself, "I must be as calm and exacting as a master surgeon—strike swiftly at the fatal node, and never thrash blindly in her labyrinthine psyche, or I'll shatter first."
Spread before him were fresh prints still redolent of ink, their pages laid out like battle maps. From classic case studies and airtight public statements to absurd rumors perhaps hiding kernels of truth, he searched for behavioral patterns, thought habits, and emotional pressure points.
Time slipped by like sand through his fingers. Dawn's pale light gave way to noon's harsh glare and then faded into a desolate crimson dusk. Teams of sales staff rotated through the department—some chasing clients, others drafting reports, gossiping by the water cooler, or being berated by Wang Hai for missed targets.
Only Chu sat unmoving, a monk in meditation. Brow furrowed in thought, eyes flickering with insight, he scribbled indecipherable symbols and keywords on scrap paper. He forgot hunger and thirst, the stares of passersby, the weight of exhaustion dragging on his mind. His sole purpose: dissect Li Manting—the ultimate prey—and decipher her fatal design.
Night finally descended. When Chu lifted his leaden head, the office lay abandoned. Outside, Star City's myriad lights blinked like a slumbering beast.
His neck crackled with stiffness; his eyes stung with dryness. Yet in those dim, weary orbs glinted a spark—newfound comprehension and steel resolve.
Through exhaustive cross-referencing, he'd spotted a paradox: the ice-hearted queen revealed a rare warmth toward young talents with disruptive genius. Early on, obscure designers and novices had earned her lavish support by pitching ideas that initially shocked but ultimately dazzled.
He also uncovered hints—via restricted channels—of Manting International's upcoming global brand upgrade launch slated for next month. The theme: "Heritage Meets Innovation" and "Tech-Empowered Artistry," aimed squarely at discerning young high-net-worth clients. Yet industry insiders lamented the company's struggle to crystallize such lofty concepts into a truly captivating message.
Could these fragments form the slender thread through which he'd slip free of the "deathtrap"?
His heart pounded like war drums. He knew that a deferential apology for product defects or a rehearsed sales pitch about Feichi Group's excellence would be worthless—perhaps even provoking her disdain.
He needed a hook so compelling that Li Manting would overlook the chasm of status between them and grant him a genuine audience.
Perhaps it lay in her appreciation for groundbreaking talent and her anxiety over the imminent brand launch. If he could showcase his own ingenuity—convince her that this obscure "salesman" offered a fresh perspective on her empire's most vexing dilemma—he might earn a seat at her table.
His eyes flicked to the dossier Wang Hai had thrust at him: the complaint alleging Feichi Group's core component flaws had sabotaged Manting International's international project and inflicted heavy losses. Just yesterday, risking his sanity, Chu had mined Wang Hai's panicked thoughts—revealing that the grievance was almost certainly fabricated.
There had to be a fatal flaw in Wang Hai's scheme—leverage for his psychological gambit against Li Manting.
A bold, audacious strategy crystallized in his mind: use the Heart-Hunting Manual during their first formal encounter to unearth her true motives—and to expose Wang Hai's betrayal as a bargaining chip.
He needed an opening—a legitimate, unexpected conduit to reach Li Manting or her inner circle, bypassing the fortress that was Manting International's headquarters.
"Conventional channels are dead ends," he thought. "I must find a shortcut."
He inhaled deeply, then typed into Star City's largest business intelligence engine: "Manting International," "Brand Upgrade Launch," "Global Strategic Partners," "Creative Proposal Submissions."
He hunted for a discreet, official avenue—a hidden special submission link that would let him present a "signature token" of creativity guaranteed to pique her curiosity.
Under the ink-black sky, Star City's lights gleamed like cold diamonds. A dangerous smile crept onto Chu's haggard face, mirroring the risks he embraced.
Wang Hai's three-day "death sentence" loomed over him like a loaded pistol at his temple—each tick of the clock a reminder of the daunting task.
He knew that every subsequent move must be as precise as a high-wire act over a bottomless chasm—one misstep, and he'd plummet.
Steeling himself, he positioned his finger over the mouse and pressed down with irrevocable determination.