Chapter 12 — Reborn: This Hell Is Mine

Chessboard of the Lost

Vệ Đắc Thịnh, chairman of Hưng Thịnh Group, welcomed Tuệ Nghi at a private villa hidden in the suburban pine hills, where strangers rarely visit. He is a man in his forties, with a calm demeanor but his eyes always contain a cold calculation, the look of someone who is accustomed to turning every relationship into a tool to serve his purposes.

"Miss Tuệ Nghi, thank you for accepting to meet me." Đắc Thịnh invited her to sit down in the luxurious leather lounge and personally poured her a cup of tea. "I have been following you through my assistant's introduction for a while. You are a capable person and have a special position next to the Chung family. I think we can help each other."

Tuệ Nghi took a sip of tea, keeping her composure even though she couldn't help but feel nervous. "Mr. Thinh, I'm not sure how I can help a large corporation like Hưng Thịnh."

"Don't be modest." Đắc Thịnh smiled, his sharp eyes observing her reaction. "You are Mrs. Chung Bách Nguyên's adopted sister, and you can access a lot of inside information that outsiders would have a hard time getting. In return, I can help your small media company get big contracts and relationships you never dared to dream of. And," he paused for a moment, "I can also help you get what you've really craved for a long time, what your sister has always had so easily — recognition, status, and a place to stand. You would no longer have to live in the shadow of others."

That last sentence touched the dull pain in Tuệ Nghi's heart, something she had hidden for more than twenty years. She tightened her grip on the teacup in her hand, feeling a stream of complex emotions rise up - both anger at being seen through, and an irresistible temptation to hear someone, for the first time, openly admit the injustice she had always felt but never dared to say.

"What do you want me to do?" Tuệ Nghi asked, her voice less cautious.

"It's simple." Đắc Thịnh leaned back in his chair, his voice gentle as if discussing a normal business matter. "Chung Nguyên Group is about to have a large cooperation deal with a foreign partner in the field of high-tech real estate. I need to know in advance the negotiation terms, price strategy, and signing time. You just need to pay attention, listen, and transfer information to me through a secure channel. In return, your company will receive a package media contract for Hưng Thịnh's three major projects next year, worth ten times what you have now."

Tuệ Nghi was silent for a long time, her inner struggle clearly visible on her face. Even though she had long harbored jealousy towards her sister, she had never really thought about directly betraying the Chung family - which was now also Ý Vy's family. But Đắc Thịnh's words, combined with the unresolved hurt from the wedding, from the image of her sister's perfect happiness that she had to witness every day, gradually overwhelmed her reason.

"I need to think more," she replied, her voice no longer as certain as before.

"Of course." Đắc Thịnh nodded, not showing any signs of hurry. "But I hope you understand, opportunities like this don't come many times in life. And I believe, a smart person like you must have realized, no matter how hard you try, in the eyes of the Chung family, you will always be just 'the lady's younger sister', never an individual recognized for yourself."

Tuệ Nghi left the villa that day in a chaotic mood. On the way home, she stopped the car on the side of the road, sat silently in the cockpit for nearly an hour, letting childhood memories flood back - the image of herself crying alone in the corner of the children's yard, the image of Mrs. Ninh Diễm Thu calling Ý Vy into her office in private but never doing the same for her, the image of the well-off couple in the past choosing to adopt Ý Vy instead of her even though she tried to show that she was equally obedient and polite.

She remembers, when she was fifteen years old, she overheard part of the conversation between Ms. Diễm Thu and the fund's private lawyer, when they discussed completing legal adoption procedures for Ý Vy. She was standing behind the door, clearly hearing Mrs. Diễm Thu's words: "Tuệ Nghi's work is for later, that girl has no special obligations that are urgent." That sentence, although Ms. Diễm Thu only spoke from a purely legal perspective, was imprinted in the mind of a fifteen-year-old child like a verdict: that girl has no special obligations. Featureless. Not as important.

From that night, Tuệ Nghi learned how to play a perfect role - the obedient younger sister, who loves her sister unconditionally, never showing the slightest hint of jealousy. But inside, every time she sees Ý Vy receive something she didn't have — whether it's a compliment, an opportunity, or now a happy marriage to the most powerful and kind man she's ever met — old wounds are opened a little deeper.

She took out her phone, looked at the message sent by assistant Đắc Thịnh, waiting for a reply. She typed a few lines, deleted them, then typed again, finally sending a short message: "I agree. But I need to make sure no one is seriously harmed. I just want my company to grow, and I want to prove that I have my own values."

That was the first self-justification she told herself, a thin line she set to be able to live with her decision. But she, like anyone else who sets foot on the path of betrayal, will soon realize how easily that line is erased once committed deeply enough.

A few days later, in his private office, Đắc Thịnh received a text message of approval from Tuệ Nghi, smiled slightly, and called his assistant into the room. "Prepare a media contract for her company, as promised. And start gradually letting her in on non-sensitive information first, building trust slowly."

"Do you believe she will be loyal to us?" the assistant asked, sounding a bit skeptical.

"There's no need for her loyalty," Đắc Thịnh replied, his voice cold. "As long as she's hurt enough, hungry enough to be recognized, that's enough for her to do what we need, until there's no turning back." He turned the wine glass in his hand, looking out the window towards the city center, where the headquarters building of Chung Nguyên Group stood tall. "Chung Bách Nguyên robbed me of the biggest deal of my career three years ago. This time, I will take it all back, with the person closest to him."

In the following weeks, the relationship between Tuệ Nghi and Hưng Thịnh gradually became closer. Đắc Thịnh, as planned, did not rush to request too sensitive information from the beginning. He let Tuệ Nghi gradually get used to the feeling of being valued, listened to, and treated as an equal partner, not a supporting character standing behind others. Her media company quickly received two small contracts from businesses indirectly connected to Hưng Thịnh, enough to create the feeling of a genuine, professional cooperative relationship, not simply a bare exchange of insider information.

One evening, after a business meeting with Hưng Thịnh's representative, Tuệ Nghi drove home past the headquarters of Chung Nguyên Group and accidentally saw the light still on the top floor - a place she knew for sure was Bách Nguyên's office. She stopped the car on the side of the road for a moment, looked up at that tall building, and felt an indescribable sense of contradiction. A part of her still wanted to turn around, wanted to call Đắc Thịnh to back out of the agreement before things went too far. But another part, the part that has been nurtured by more than twenty years of silent hurt, whispers that this may be the only chance for her to prove her worth, to no longer be a faint shadow behind her sister's halo.

She drove on, not turning back to look at the building again.

Meanwhile, completely unaware of the agreement that had just been signed in the dark, Ý Vy continued her happy married life, only occasionally receiving reports from Mr. Son about the increasingly frequent meetings between Tuệ Nghi and Hưng Thịnh Group, and the unusual income that began to appear in her company account. Ý Vy read each report with a somewhat heavy calm, not the calm of an indifferent person, but the calm of a person who had long mentally prepared for what she was about to face.

She understood that the final piece of the conspiracy puzzle was gradually being completed, and it was time for her to move from the observation and defense phase to the proactive phase of leading the situation according to her will.