Nan Zhenming immediately rebuked: "How dare you secretly date someone behind the family's back? Such defiance of tradition!"
Nan Siya pulled out her phone: "I pulled up the street surveillance footage. This car has been dropping Sister off every day for the past week. She hasn’t used Uncle Zhang’s rides in a long time—so it’s because she has a boyfriend now?"
That day, Nan Siya had caught sight of the Land Rover and instantly sensed something was off.
She didn’t dare investigate Nan Sangning openly—she was always wary of her sister’s methods, having suffered too many defeats at her hands.
She feared that if Nan Sangning found out, she’d end up worse off.
So, for once, she played it smart and checked the street cameras instead. And sure enough, the same car had been bringing her home daily!
If it wasn’t a boyfriend, then who else could it be?!
Grandpa stared at the surveillance footage—Nan Sangning cheerfully hopping out of the car, waving goodbye before heading inside—his expression darkening by the second.
"You’re seeing someone?" Grandpa asked.
Sangning: "Yes."
Grandpa narrowed his cloudy eyes, probing: "From which family?"
Sangning pressed her lips together.
Nan Siya feigned curiosity: "Sister’s being so secretive—could it be because the man isn’t… presentable?"
That Land Rover was only worth a little over 300,000 yuan. Clearly, he couldn’t be from their elite social circle.
If he were someone noteworthy, Nan Sangning would’ve already paraded him in front of her to flaunt her victory!
She had always envied her for securing an outstanding fiancé like Brother Zheng.
Nan Zhenming sneered: "With her arrogant attitude, no respectable family would ever want her anyway!"
Grandpa’s disappointment solidified as he slammed the table: "Sangning, you’ve let me down!"
After a long silence, Sangning finally spoke: "I didn’t leak the confidential information. Give me two days, Grandpa. I’ll give you an answer."
Nan Zhenming snapped: "And if you can’t?! Don’t think you can weasel your way out of this again!"
Sangning’s gaze hardened: "If I fail, I’ll accept whatever punishment the family decides."
Nan Zhenming pointed at her accusingly: "The Nan family has no room for a disloyal daughter like you. If I’d known it would come to this, I never should’ve brought you back!"
He scoffed: "I’ve already told your mother to arrange a marriage for you. I’m being generous this once—marrying you off with dignity is the last kindness I’ll show as your father. After this, you’re barred from any involvement with Nan Corporation!"
Sangning lifted her eyes to meet his, her expression eerily calm: "Fine."
Grandpa exhaled heavily: "Then you have two days. Sangning, don’t disappoint me again."
Sangning nodded: "Understood."
She turned to leave, only to lock eyes with Nan Siya’s triumphant smirk. Ignoring her, Sangning walked past without a second glance.
Nan Siya glared at her retreating figure, grinding her teeth. How could she still act so composed at a time like this?
Father might claim he’s marrying her off, but rushing like this? She’d be lucky to land someone even half as good as Du Yao!
This time, Nan Sangning would be cast out for good.
As Nan Zhenming watched her leave, unease prickled at him. She was too calm—he’d expected hysterical denials, desperate pleas to prove her innocence.
Yet all she did was quietly ask for two days. What could she possibly uncover in just two days?
But ever since Nan Sangning’s return, she’d always managed to outmaneuver him. He couldn’t afford to underestimate her.
Once outside the study, Sangning pulled out her phone and dialed.
The call connected instantly: "Manager Nan."
"Lin Yuan, investigate everyone in the project team. Check if anyone’s had private contact with Gray recently. Also, pull the office surveillance—see if anyone entered without authorization."
Lin Yuan stammered: "Wh-what’s happened?"
"Just do it," Sangning ordered.
"Right away!"
Hanging up, she noticed a missed call and a WeChat message.
Strawberry Cake: [Almost here?]
They’d agreed to meet at 11 AM. It was now past noon.
Sangning stared at her screen, lost in thought—until footsteps echoed behind her.
She turned to see Nan Zhenming descending the stairs, his face stormy.
Meeting his gaze, her composed eyes subtly scanned his expression.
"You’d better produce results. Otherwise, even if Grandpa forgives you, I won’t!" Nan Zhenming warned.
But beneath his fury, Sangning detected hesitation.
He wasn’t entirely certain.
"Dad, if even Grandpa doubts me… don’t you trust me?" Her voice softened, tinged with vulnerability.
"Trust you? Look at the mess you’ve made!"
"I didn’t do this. The Gray deal was won through proper bidding. I never contacted them privately, let alone leaked secrets!"
Nan Zhenming snorted: "Save it for Grandpa. I can’t help you."
Clenching her jaw, Sangning insisted: "Dad, believe me—I’m being framed. Just wait. I’ll get to the truth and clear my name for both of you!"
With that, she spun around and strode away.
Nan Zhenming stared after her, suspicion gnawing at him.
A minute later, Aunt Chen approached: "The young mistress left, but she didn’t take the family car. She hailed a taxi instead."
His doubts mounting, Nan Zhenming ordered: "Have Old Zheng tail her. Make sure she doesn’t cause more trouble."
"Yes, sir."
In the taxi’s backseat, Sangning texted He Siyu: [On my way]
He replied instantly: [Got it]
She made another call.
The line picked up immediately: "Manager Nan, I checked the cameras—no unauthorized entries to your office this past week. The team’s been under my watch too; nothing suspicious so far. I’ll double-check everyone."
Sangning’s voice turned steely: "First, handle something else for me."
Twenty minutes later, the taxi stopped by Guomao’s bustling main road, crowds swarming the sidewalks.
A Bentley idled at the curb. Leaning against it stood a tall figure in a black overcoat—one hand pocketed, the other holding a phone as he scanned the screen.
"Hey."
He Siyu looked up at Sangning’s call, his furrowed brow smoothing slightly as he straightened.
He moved toward her—but before he could take a step, she was already running into his arms.
Stunned, his arms instinctively encircled her: "What’s wrong?"
Sangning didn’t answer, her face buried in his coat, fingers clutching the fabric tightly.
Sensing her distress, his expression shifted. Gently stroking her hair, he pressed: "Talk to me. What happened?"
Muffled against his chest, she murmured: "Just… some family trouble."
"What kind?!"
She tilted her head slightly, catching a glimpse of a familiar car passing by them, and said softly, "Just a small matter."
