The warehouse didn't stay silent for long. As soon as Su Lan's blue star appeared on the monitors, the side doors hissed open. Six men in gray tactical gear stepped out—Ying Yue's private security. They weren't just guards; they were professionals.
"Calculated risk," Li Yan muttered, his eyes scanning the room like he was reading a high-speed data stream. He adjusted his cufflink, his face devoid of fear. "Xiao Xing, 10 o'clock. Low ceiling. 2 o'clock. Loose scaffolding. The third guard has a slight limp in his left stride. 0.4-second delay in his reaction time."
"Copy that, President," I said, my pulse steady. I felt the cool floor beneath my sneakers. "What's the sequence?"
"Knight to Bishop 4," he whispered. "Go."
The Physical Code
I moved. I didn't just fight; I followed the rhythm Li Yan dictated.
The first guard lunged with a telescopic baton. I ducked—exactly where Li Yan's 'Knight' move predicted—and delivered a palm strike to the guard's solar plexus. As he doubled over, I used his shoulder as a springboard, spinning in mid-air to land a kick on the second man's jaw.
Thud. Thud. "Four remaining," Li Yan called out calmly. He wasn't just standing there. He moved toward the main console, dodging a grab from the third guard with a fluid step-slide. He didn't punch; he used the man's momentum against him, tripping him into a stack of empty crates. "Scaffolding at 2 o'clock. Now!"
I grabbed a loose cable hanging from the ceiling and swung. My momentum carried me upward, my boots connecting with the chest of the fourth guard who was trying to flank Li Yan.
"Efficiency: 92%," Li Yan remarked, his fingers finally reaching the master keyboard. "But we have a variable. Ying Yue is retreating to the sub-level."
The Breaking Point
Ying Yue was scrambling toward a metal staircase, her eyes wide with the realization that her "logic" was being dismantled by a girl with a silver medal and a boy with a grandmaster's brain.
"YOU THINK THIS IS OVER?" she screamed, her voice cracking. "I STILL HAVE THE ARCHIVE ENCRYPTION! IF I GO DOWN, THE 98.2% DATA GOES WITH ME!"
"Team A, report!" I shouted into my comms while pinned in a grapple with the fifth guard.
"Parents are safe!" Zhang Wei's voice boomed. "We've neutralized the black cars. Su Lan is currently 'brute-forcing' Ying Yue's remote server. But she needs more time!"
"I'll give her time," I gritted my teeth, throwing a sharp elbow back into my attacker's ribs and breaking free.
I sprinted toward the stairs, but a sixth guard—the largest of them all—blocked my path. He was built like a wall, his fists like sledgehammers.
"Xiao Xing, wait!" Li Yan yelled. He looked at the man, then at the heavy overhead crane controls next to him. "He's an outlier. Too heavy for a standard strike. Use the 'Diagonal'!"
The 98.2% Sync
Li Yan slammed his hand onto a red lever on the console. Above us, the massive iron hook of the industrial crane began to swing. It wasn't meant to hit the guard—it was meant to create a shadow.
The guard looked up, distracted by the screeching metal.
"Now!" Li Yan shouted.
I didn't go for a high kick. I dropped low, sweeping his legs with a force that utilized my entire body weight. As he fell, the shadow of the crane hook passed over us. I didn't stop. I used the guard's falling body as a step and leaped over him, landing on the stairs right behind Ying Yue.
I grabbed her arm, spinning her around. The tablet flew from her hands, skidding across the metal grating.
"It's over, Ying Yue," I panted, my hair messy, my blazer torn, but my eyes burning. "The 'Seven Stars' don't lose to cowards who hide behind screens."
The Final Move
Li Yan walked up the stairs, his breathing slightly heavy but his expression triumphant. He picked up the tablet.
"The encryption wasn't yours to begin with," he said, looking at Ying Yue with pure disdain. "You used our high school logic as the base. You forgot that the key wasn't just the numbers '98.2'. It was the date we tied."
He typed in the date: August 9th. (Xiao Xing's birthday).
The tablet turned blue. The 'Delete' sequence stopped.
"System Restored," the tablet chimed.
Ying Yue slumped against the railing, defeated. Downstairs, the sirens of the police—called by Mei Ling—began to wail, blue and red lights reflecting off the warehouse windows.
Li Yan walked over to me, wrapping his arm around my waist to steady me.
"You okay, Princess?" he whispered.
"I've had better matches," I joked, leaning my head against his shoulder. "But the win feels better this time."
"Final score?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.
"100%," I said. "For all seven of us."