"Wait for me here now. I’ll greet someone and then take you to the conference room," Yu Minglang instructed Chen Xiaoqian not to wander, leaving her in the office before he left.

It was Qian’s first visit. She walked around his office twice, spotting the dominance, simplicity, and high-end style—certainly Xiaohei’s touch.

Yet on the desk, Qian discovered a mystery. On his desk was a photo of her, taken the first time she stayed overnight at Yu Minglang’s, leaning against his bed.

That photo was taken a few years ago; she still looked a bit immature. In this purely masculine space, her innocent photo was the softest presence. Was this how he kept her near him when she couldn’t see?

Qian put down the photo, recalling Yu Minglang’s previous request for a wedding photo shoot, which she declined, thinking wedding photos were silly and overly posed. But now, she thought once Mai’s issue was resolved, she might do a proper wedding shoot with him.

"Mei, follow me," he said, opening the door and nodding at Qian.

A defining moment was about to arrive.

The Yu Family had many conference rooms, but only one was special, opened only for significant occasions and accommodating company executives. It was equipped with high-tech communication devices for video calls; once inside, every conversation was top-secret, never leaked.

And today, this mysterious place opened for Qian.

Qian followed Yu Minglang inside, where guards stood watch—Yu Family’s finest security.

Inside was a wall of visual phones and a conference table commonly used in meetings. Apart from Yu Minglang and Qian, two people stood there, both insiders of this operation.

Yu Minglang led Qian to the equipment and spoke to the screen.

"I’ve brought the person over."

Qian didn’t know the uncle’s exact position on the screen but could guess a little. Any ordinary person would be nervous, but Qian, having seen much of the world, remained calm and composed before such a figure.

"A key level figure mentioned you have important information for me?" the person asked.

"Yes, I’m Chen Xiaoqian, a psychologist, and the wife of One. I know it’s unconventional to meet you, but this matter’s impact is profound. I wish to communicate directly with you to avoid unnecessary trouble for our side."

"I heard from One about your views. Though your conjecture is logical, it’s still just conjecture. I want to know the specific basis for your judgment."

This matter indeed was special. Song Qingwu directly approached Qian; excluding her seemed improper.

Moreover, Yu Minglang had just guaranteed to the person that Qian’s information was valuable, and he wanted to give Qian a chance to present her case.

"I am a psychologist, and in our field, confidentiality is a rule. One never tells me anything about his unit at home, nor should I disclose anything about my patients to you, but since this involves group safety, I’m willing to make an exception. I have Song Qingwu’s previous psychologist records, where he expressed his orientation and his affection for Mahadi."

Unable to mention reincarnation, she framed her narrative within psychologist rules—a logical and reasonable approach that, though minorly transgressive, lent credence to Qian’s words.

"Tell me your plan," the person appeared convinced.

"Before discussing my plan, I must clarify one point: One never discusses these matters at home. My knowledge of Mahadi and Song Qingwu’s identity came through my own network; my husband disclosed nothing."

The person chuckled.

"I understand, continue,"

This couple was amusing; One just backed his wife with assurances, and now his wife fiercely safeguarded her husband. Their good relationship was envy-worthy; Yu was lucky to have insightful children-in-law like these...

"Song Qingwu’s motive for approaching me can be identified as personal vendetta and jealousy, intending to eliminate me. Yet, if I’m killed on my husband’s turf, it’s not so simple. If we protect me and kick Song Qingwu out, he, being vindictive, might stir trouble upon returning, which is vexing."

Qian first analyzed the situation in the simplest and straightforward manner, amusing the person while maintaining a solemn expression.

This young lady was perceptive, simply too blunt and unversed in tact.

"You needn’t fear threats from malicious forces."

"I believe my husband can protect me, but I think we’re capable of handling this differently, turning bad into good."

"Oh?"

"Song Qingwu is curious about me, intrigued by what kind of person attracts Mai’s affection, thus he might study my personality while plotting against me. I plan to confront him with the Shunxin Therapy and negotiate terms."

"Psychologist’s treatment contains no Shunxin Therapy. This young lady dares claim otherwise, thinking others oblivious to psychology? Alas, some have self-studied it!"

"Your expertise is genuine, not easily misled. True, Shunxin Therapy is self-invented, but let me assert my professional competence, as I can discern your recent sleep issues."

"Haha, explain this self-created therapy?" The person suffered sleeplessness for days, medication not aiding—a headache indeed.

Yu Minglang stood with standard posture, maintaining a serious expression despite the humorous heart.

No need for nerves. His darling Qian, regardless of leadership faced, began with a metaphorical stick and overwhelmed with exceptional knowledge, and for daunting tasks, she added flattery. Look at how she charmed them, tsk tsk.

"My self-invented Shunxin Therapy simply accommodates Song Qingwu’s wishes. Isn’t he fond of Mai? I assist him in winning Mai’s affection—what he couldn’t obtain, I help him reach. Would he dare harm me after this? Broadly speaking, if he aids Mai in taking over business, would he dare disrupt us later? Even if he dares, I can brainwash Mai, making him whisper pillow secrets to plague those who ill-favor us rather than causing us trouble!"

Astonishingly, such divine logic existed!!!

The person’s eyes widened—could this work?