Transmigrating Into a Book, the Villain Becomes the White Moonlight!

126: Chapter 126 Is it a date?The metal elevator doors closed. Su Bai stared at the rising numbers, feeling an inexplicable sense of irritation.

He hadn’t quite figured out why he felt the need to make this trip in person.

If he had to find a reason... it was probably that indefinable, faintly restless concern deep in his heart, along with a vague, instinctive wariness of situations spiraling out of control, that drove him to come and take a look.

He had to confirm whether Lin Wan’s words that night were just an impulsive outburst of anger or if she had truly veered off her original path.

After all, this was Lin Wan. How could that calm, rational, standard female Protagonist, who had lived her life by the book since childhood, inexplicably take a liking to a guy like him who couldn’t muster enthusiasm for anything?

The elevator gave a soft ”ding,” and the doors slowly slid open.

A young female secretary, dressed in a proper suit and sporting refined makeup, was already waiting at the door, clearly having been notified in advance.

Seeing Su Bai, a well-trained, professional smile immediately appeared on her face. She bowed slightly. ”Director Su, you’ve arrived. President Lin is currently chairing a project meeting in the conference room; it might take a bit more time. Please take a seat in her office for a moment, and I’ll go inform President Lin right away.”

”Alright, no rush.” Su Bai nodded and replied nonchalantly. Without stopping, he walked straight into Lin Wan’s office.

The office was spacious and bright, decorated in a clean, modern style that exuded an efficient coldness—it fit the impression Lin Wan gave off perfectly.

His gaze swept across the room, finally landing on the large desk. A stack of documents was neatly piled there, and the title of the top one was strikingly: ”Final Audit Nodes and Phased Goals Before the Launch of the Battle Royale Project.”

Su Bai picked it up and flipped through a few pages.

Inside were dense schedules, data indicators, and risk contingency plans, all clearly organized and strictly demanding.

He scanned the clauses regarding server load stress testing, anti-cheat system deployment, and marketing schedules. He knew that domestic computer hardware and network infrastructure had developed rapidly in recent years, a world of difference from when he went abroad years ago. Only now could the concepts and implementation of such hardware-intensive and network-demanding massive multiplayer online games be supported.

If nothing else, when he had initially invested money to start this game company, it was purely on a whim because he had nothing better to do. Yet, it had indeed indirectly driven the development of several upstream and downstream industries surrounding the gaming ecosystem.

This ”Battle Royale” game, aimed at the year-end winter break slot, carried the company’s significant ambitions, hoping to use it to aggressively harvest a share of the market.

As he was idly thinking about these things, the crisp, rhythmic sound of high heels clicking against the floor tiles came from behind, approaching from a distance.

Su Bai turned around and saw that Lin Wan had already appeared at the office door.

She was wearing a well-tailored light gray suit skirt, her hair meticulously tied back to reveal her elegant neckline. Her face wore its usual calm expression, though her breathing seemed slightly more hurried than usual.

”Finished the meeting so soon?” Su Bai asked, a bit surprised, raising an eyebrow.

”Yes,” Lin Wan pursed her lips and walked in, casually placing a folder from her arms onto the desk. Her tone was flat. ”There wasn’t much to handle, so it ended quickly.”

She wasn’t telling the truth.

The meeting was actually only halfway through; the core topics hadn’t even been discussed yet.

But when the secretary had just whispered in her ear, ”Director Su is here, waiting in your office,” she had almost without thinking found an excuse to end the meeting hastily, leaving a room full of executives hanging.

In fact, after impulsively making things clear that night, she herself didn’t know how to face Su Bai.

That long-suppressed emotion had broken through the floodgates, leaving behind not just the slight emptiness after venting, but more so a sense of being at a loss and a faint feeling of regret.

After a confession—or rather, that near-ultimatum declaration—what should happen next? How would Su Bai react?

She hadn’t had time to think it through at the time.

It was just that Mu Xue’s sudden appearance, and Su Bai’s seemingly casual yet special connection with Mu Xue, was like a thorn in her heart. It made it impossible for her to maintain her previous patience of following the steps and waiting for things to happen naturally.

The original plan wasn’t like this. She had thought that once Su Bai returned from abroad, with their engagement as a bond and both being in A City, there would always be chances for gradual contact and subtle influence, and their feelings might develop naturally.

But Mu Xue’s appearance had disrupted everything, making her sense a strong crisis. She couldn’t wait any longer.

”Regarding this proposal, I’ve changed my mind. Let’s make the game free-to-play upon launch instead.” Su Bai shook the document about the monetization model, finding the safest entry point for conversation.

The atmosphere was slightly stagnated; he had to say something to break the silence.

Lin Wan was clearly stunned for a moment, her delicate eyebrows furrowing slightly, but she quickly entered her work state and raised a practical concern: ”But... during the pre-order phase, we’ve already accumulated a group of players who paid for the purchase. If we suddenly switch to free-to-play, these earliest supporters might feel they’re being treated unfairly, which could easily trigger controversy and negative public opinion.”

”Compensate those players,” Su Bai replied without a second thought. ”Convert their pre-payments into an equivalent amount of in-game currency, or limited edition commemorative weapon skins and character outfits. The value should be higher than what they paid. As long as they feel they’ve gotten more than their money’s worth and gained an advantage, they won’t just stop complaining—they might even become the main force for word-of-mouth promotion.”

Lin Wan pondered for a moment and then nodded. ”Alright, I’ll arrange for the marketing and operations departments to adjust the plan and handle the compensation and communication for these users later.”

She didn’t object.

Although Su Corporation’s gaming company now had a complete structure with each department performing its duties, almost all the initial concepts and core gameplay of the company’s hit games originated from Su Bai’s seemingly casual ideas.

In this field, he held absolute authority, built upon one astonishing market success after another over the past few years.

In terms of business intuition and creativity, Lin Wan had never doubted Su Bai’s ability.

Years ago, when the first independent game Su Bai tinkered with was released and easily earned several hundred million, she had clearly seen that sharp talent of his, which was akin to the Midas touch.

It was just that he was far too lazy.

This amazing talent was tightly wrapped in a layer of nonchalance and a listless exterior that couldn’t be bothered with anything, with only an occasional flash of brilliance leaking out.

”You...”

”You...”

The two spoke almost simultaneously and then stopped at the same time.

Their gazes met in the air, and the atmosphere in the office seemed to stagnate a bit more.

Finally, Su Bai curled his lips first and said in his usual, somewhat indifferent tone, ”...It’s lunch time. How about we go out and find a place to eat? It’s better than just standing here.”

”Sure.” Lin Wan’s answer was so fast it was almost without thought, blurted out.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she had agreed too eagerly. Her face warmed slightly, and her heart skipped a few beats for no reason.

She forced herself to remain calm, turning slightly to avoid Su Bai’s possible gaze, and added, ”Then wait for me a moment while I change. Going out to eat in this suit is too formal.”

As she spoke, she walked to the bookshelf on one side of the office and pressed lightly on an inconspicuous decorative line.

With a soft ”click,” a wall panel that looked like a single unit slid inward, revealing the entrance to a hidden room.

The space wasn’t large and could be seen in its entirety at a glance; it was more like an exquisite, compact walk-in closet combined with a temporary rest area.

Inside, several sets of casual clothes in different styles were neatly hung, ranging from sharp shirts and trousers to simple dresses. There was also a small dressing table and a simple sofa bed.

”Sometimes I come straight from school, and going home to change in between takes too much time, so I kept a few sets here,” Lin Wan explained simply. Her tone had returned to its usual calm, though the faint blush on her earlobes hadn’t completely faded yet.

She slipped into the walk-in closet and gently closed the hidden door, leaving Su Bai alone in the office.

Su Bai looked around this hidden closet that doubled as a rest area, and a thought popped into his head: Having to handle schoolwork while also managing such a large business, running back and forth, really isn’t easy. Behind Lin Wan’s seemingly effortless composure, she probably put in a lot of effort.

Meanwhile, in an office on the other side of the city, Chu Ci was holding an expensive fountain pen, her wrist steady and fast as she signed her name at the end of several documents.

The ink glided across the paper, making a faint rustling sound.

In just these few days, by taking over some of the ”special affairs” passed down from Su Bai’s side, she had truly glimpsed how large the iceberg beneath the surface of this world actually was.

Previously, guarding her territory at the clubhouse and relying on some underground connections and networks, she felt she could live quite comfortably in her own corner.

But now, having slightly touched the edges of the Su Corporation’s affiliated system, she was startled to realize how narrow her past vision had been.

Su Bai, or rather the Su Corporation behind him, handled things in a way that was completely different from the level of fighting and killing for territory that she had known in the past.

Take someone like Shen He; he offended Su Bai, and what was the result? In a short time, he vanished into thin air. It was said he was ”arranged” onto a certain ocean-going ferry, and from then on, there was no trace of him. It was so clean and efficient that it made one’s heart turn cold.

In comparison, her previous methods were like children playing house. The Su Corporation was the hand truly hidden beneath the rules, yet capable of easily manipulating them.

Chu Ci had heard the news of Shen He’s disappearance the day after she decided to side with Su Bai. There was no need to guess; it was definitely the young master’s doing. Thinking about how she had also teetered on the brink of death that day and almost been ”sent away” as well, she couldn’t help but feel a chill down her spine.

The contracts she signed today were brought over by Uncle Fu in person, involving asset and equity transfer documents for several ”shell companies” that had just completed legal procedure changes.

These companies’ books were as clean as if they’d been washed; they didn’t have a cent and were completely hollow shells. But the beauty was that their procedures were complete and their histories were clean—they were ”legal entities” that could operate normally in the light of day.

Chu Ci understood that such ”clean” shells were, at times, more useful than companies with money on the books but unknown origins.

She had just finished the last stroke and carefully screwed the cap back onto the fountain pen, setting it aside. Almost at the same moment, the screen of her private phone on the desk suddenly lit up, with several encrypted notification prompts from a banking app popping up in succession.

Chu Ci glanced at it casually, and her pupils instantly contracted. Her fingers gripping the phone suddenly tightened. She stared in disbelief at the long, dizzying string of zeros on the screen, counting them twice to make sure she hadn’t misread the decimal point.

Her breath was involuntarily held. She suddenly looked up at Uncle Fu, who was standing quietly by the window like a shadow, her voice slightly out of tune from extreme shock: ”Uncle... Uncle Fu? This... this money?”

She turned the phone screen toward Uncle Fu, her fingertips even trembling slightly. ”This money... was it transferred by Young Master Su?”

On that brand-new corporate account interface, where the balance should have been ”.0,” it now strikingly displayed an astronomical figure: ¥4,000,000,000.00. Four billion!

A sum of money so massive it would leave anyone speechless had silently and without warning appeared in the accounts of these shell companies that had just been transferred to her name!

A flicker of surprise also passed very quickly across Uncle Fu’s normally calm and expressionless face.

He immediately took a step forward, took the phone, and his sharp gaze quickly scanned the sender’s information—it was usually a string of complex, hard-to-trace code or an account that had gone through multiple layers of jumps. He then checked the entry time and the remarks, which were blank.

His brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t answer Chu Ci’s question but instead quickly took out his own phone, dialed Su Bai’s number, and turned on the speakerphone.

The call was quickly connected. The background was quiet.

”Young Master,” Uncle Fu’s voice was steady, but his speaking rate was slightly faster than usual. ”The money that just arrived in the accounts of those Ji Family shell companies—did you arrange for that transfer?”

”Money?” On the other end of the phone, Su Bai’s voice carried obvious bewilderment. He seemed to shift his position, the background picking up the faint sound of leather rubbing; he was sitting in that comfortable executive chair in Lin Wan’s office.

”What money? It wasn’t me. I just had them transfer the companies to Chu Ci’s name; there shouldn’t be a cent in the accounts.”

”Just now, these accounts received a total of four billion in funds,” Uncle Fu explained concisely.

”Four billion?!” Su Bai’s voice rose, filled with incredulity. ”If the Ji Family had four billion in cash, would they have needed to rob Peter to pay Paul back then, and end up with just a few empty shells? They would have used it to make a comeback long ago!”

”That is my judgment as well,” Uncle Fu responded in a deep voice, his expression becoming solemn. This massive sum of money from an unknown source suddenly being injected into these shell companies that had just changed hands and hadn’t yet begun operating was definitely out of the ordinary.

Who had transferred the money?

What was this money for?