Ex-wife becomes the world's number one hacker

As I opened the door, a warm feeling mixed with the aroma of food wafted towards me.

"I'm back." Jiang Yin's voice softened unconsciously.

"Mom's home!"

"The Queen is back!"

Two figures, one tall and one short, cheered and ran from different directions.

The younger one hugged the older one's leg, while the older one took the backpack and trench coat.

"We'll have dinner soon after a short rest. Today we have your favorite black truffle cream mushroom soup." Qin Heming's eyes were smiling, with a hint of anticipation for being praised.

Jiang Yin changed into her home clothes and walked into the living room.

There was a square box on the coffee table.

She recognized it as the box that held Qin Se's childhood mementos, which should have originally been in Qin Heming's villa.

She sat down and opened the box.

Scattered yet precious objects are laid out: a 100-day photo, a rubbing of a baby's foot, a lock of a baby's hair... and a gold lock with ancient characters and patterns printed on it.

Jiang Yin picked up the gold lock, her fingertips tracing its raised lines. It was the gold lock Qin Heming had given to his son Qin Se when he was born.

"The kindergarten wanted to display 'treasures from childhood,' so we brought them over to him." Qin Heming walked over when he saw her examining them.

"What are these patterns? Are they some kind of ancient totem?" Jiang Yin asked.

Qin Heming smiled slyly: "Just wait."

He strode to the study and retrieved a sheet of white paper and a pencil.

He sat cross-legged on the carpet next to the coffee table, covered the gold lock with white paper, and scribbled with a pencil at an angle.

Beneath the charcoal gray lines, three clear characters gradually emerge: 鸣 (ming), 吟 (yin), and 涩 (se).

Jiang Yin was stunned: "That's it?"

She had guessed it was a blessing incantation or a protective totem.

Unexpectedly, it turned out...

She raised an eyebrow, trying to remain calm as she continued asking:

Why did you name your son "涩" (se)? This character is not commonly used in names.

Qin Heming looked at the name that appeared on the paper, his eyes softening:

"I thought of the word '瑟' (se), but it felt too straightforward, so I chose a homophone for '涩' (se)."

"Why choose 'Se'?" Jiang Yin still didn't understand the meaning.

Qin Heming clicked his tongue, giving him a look that said, "How can you be so uncultured?"

"Do you know what 'qinse' means? It's a homophone. Our family all have the character 'xiang' in their names. I am 'ming', you are 'yin', and he is 'se'. When we put together, we are a harmonious melody that can be sung."

Jiang Yin suddenly realized what was happening, and a mouthful of blood choked in his throat.

I didn't know whether to praise his dedication or laugh at his "twisted logic".

...Well, at least the name is unique and unlikely to be duplicated.

The dining table was filled with dishes that Jiang Yin and Qin Se preferred.

Qin Heming's culinary skills have improved day by day, and now he even pays attention to plating, often carving radish flowers or cucumber rolls as garnishes, making them look, smell, and taste delicious and tempting.

Midway through the meal, Jiang Yin remembered something: "Xie Jinxing came to see me today. He said the organization wants you to go back to be a section chief, but you refused. He asked me to persuade you."

Qin Heming was carefully removing fish bones from Qin Se when he heard this, and his brows furrowed:

"Why is he so annoying? I already said I quit, but he still came to you. Next time he comes, have Tang Ning kick him out. He's terrified of Tang Ning."

"Why don't you go?" Jiang Yin asked, looking at him.

Qin Heming put down his chopsticks, his tone calm yet serious:

"I'm human too, and my heart aches. You're enough for the family, and I can manage this job. I'm tired of living like this, keeping secrets from each other. I don't want to have any secrets from you. I need to let you know where I am and what I'm doing all the time."

He paused, then continued:

"Moreover, the nation's strength is different now than before, and the probability of a hot war is getting smaller and smaller. The future battlefields are in the economy, finance, and trade. If I manage the Qin family well, I can still hold my own on this front."

After listening, Jiang Yin nodded slowly and heavily.

At 9:30 p.m., Qin Se was already fast asleep beside him, breathing softly and evenly.

The sound of Qin Heming washing up came from the bathroom, and soon the door to the guest room closed gently.

Jiang Yin turned on the bedside lamp, and the warm yellow light enveloped only her corner.

She took a deep breath, took out the thick stack of suicide notes from the depths of the drawer, and unfolded them under the light.

The beginnings are all the same, yet every word carries immense weight:

"If I sacrifice myself, all my property will be inherited by my beloved wife Jiang Yin (formerly known as Gu Jiangyin)."

The ending, like a cold seal, is glaringly obvious: "Fu Heming's Last Words."

The words "final words" stung Jiang Yin's eyes.

She read on and on.

Tears welled up silently, initially just moistening the eyes, then rolling uncontrollably down and soaking the pages.

The twenty-seven letters were filled with longing, worry, unfulfilled expectations, detailed plans for their son, and even included tips for managing the Qin family business and details of the loyalty and treachery of its personnel.

After reading the last letter, the night outside the window was already as dark as ink.

There was complete silence outside the bedroom; Qin Heming must have been fast asleep.

Jiang Yin wiped away the tears from her face, inserted a small USB drive into her laptop, and put on her headphones.

She wanted to hear what his years as an informant were really like.

The headphones first emitted a blank, static-like sound that crackled and made one's heart tighten.

Then, Qin Heming's voice rang out. It sounded somewhat distorted, but Jiang Yin was certain it was him.

The voice was unusually calm and restrained, almost devoid of emotion, yet the few words painted a vivid picture:

"Casino tables," "Cargo hold of a fishing boat tossed about on the high seas," "Damp concrete floor of a warehouse late at night."

Then came a series of heavy, rapid breaths, mixed with the rustling of clothes as someone ran and indistinct shouts from afar, before abruptly stopping.

Another burst of electrical noise. The background became noisy, with the waves monotonously and continuously lapping against the shore. Amidst the rhythmic sound of the waves, Jiang Yin clearly recognized the sound: the soft "click" of metal meshing as the hammer of a pistol was gently pried open.

Amidst the highs and lows, the oppressive and indistinct sounds of human voices, electrical currents, and various indescribable background noises, Jiang Yin sank into a deep and chaotic dream.

In her dream, she was no longer an outsider. She and Qin Heming walked side by side, with gunfire and bullets as their shared backdrop, and they weathered the storms of bloodshed together.

They huddled together at the bottom of a dark elevator shaft for three days and three nights, tracked their target together on the humus layer of the rainforest, and raced for their lives across the endless Gobi Desert...

They stepped off a small plane together. Qin Heming, standing beside him, was wearing an ordinary baseball cap and carrying a shoulder bag.

The two of them got into an SUV that was not far away and sped all the way to a bunker-like building.

Suddenly, Qin Heming disappeared.

Jiang Yin looked around blankly, surrounded only by a thick, impenetrable fog. Her heart sank, and she opened her mouth to call out, but it felt as if her throat was being choked, and she couldn't utter a sound.

Suddenly, the fog in front of me dissipated, and my vision became exceptionally clear.

The cold gleam of metal, the intricate network of pipes, and the curved wall structure.

Jiang Yin recognized it instantly; it was the outer structure of the cooling corridor in the Dark Laboratory. It was the perspective she had seen through the drone's lens.

The scene moves forward silently.

The next second, the view shifted.

Jiang Yin felt herself looking around with her "eyes" as she walked along the cold corridor into a completely unfamiliar area.

Suddenly, the view opened up, revealing lights and human voices.

She approached silently.

It was a huge underground space, like a hall.

Opposite was a row of windowless concrete rooms, each with a pale light shining through its doorway.

People dressed in full protective suits, their faces obscured, moved silently among them, as if conducting some kind of cold, inhuman "scientific research."

A figure walked straight toward her.

Jiang Yin felt a chill and instinctively dodged to the side, but her back bumped into a hard metal shelf.

She looked back.

On the shelves, rows of transparent petri dishes are neatly arranged. In the clear liquid, human brains are suspended.

Jiang Yin's breathing suddenly stopped, and she almost cried out in alarm.

But the figure walked straight past her, as if she were nothing more than a wisp of air.

Jiang Yin realized that she seemed to be "invisible".

She composed herself and mustered her courage to walk towards that row of rooms.

In the first room, a naked man lay on the experimental table.

His head was strangely sunken inward, causing his facial features to become distorted and misaligned, presenting a comical yet terrifying appearance.

Two researchers are using tweezers to slowly stuff wads of snow-white medical cotton into the gaps in his skull.

Jiang Yin suppressed her discomfort and carefully examined the man; it was Yan Zhiqiang. She had seen him in a file photo.

Her stomach churned, and she staggered out, bursting into the second room.

The same scene unfolded, but the person on the stage was now completely lifeless, their body riddled with tubes of varying thicknesses, from which several strangely colored liquids flowed slowly.

Just then, a hoarse, inhuman roar came from the next room.

It's Qin Heming's voice!

Jiang Yin rushed over like a madwoman.

Sure enough it was him.

He was pinned to the experimental table, his entire body covered in electrodes, ropes digging deep into his flesh, leaving him covered in wounds.

A man holds a high-speed spinning chainsaw, its cold teeth hovering above his forehead.

His eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging on his forehead, and he struggled and roared with all his might.

Jiang Yin's heart felt as if it were being gripped tightly by an icy hand, the pain almost causing it to burst.

She rushed towards him desperately, only to find that she couldn't reach him no matter what she did, as if there was an invisible, insurmountable barrier between them.

Suddenly, Qin Heming on the experimental table turned his head sharply and "looked" precisely at her.

His eyes were bloodshot, as if dripping blood, and he roared with his last breath:

"Yingying—! Don't come any closer! Run—!! Survive—!!!"

Jiang Yin suddenly sat up in bed.

The night was still, and the bedroom was peaceful. Only her own heavy, terribly labored breathing and the frantic pounding of her heart echoed in her chest.

She trembled uncontrollably, ripped off her headphones, and threw them aside.

My heart ached beyond measure, and tears streamed down my face instantly.

At that very moment, the "knot" that had been lingering in my heart for so long, hard and obstructed, vanished silently and completely, like an icicle under the sunlight, without a trace.

She suddenly understood Qin Heming.

If it were her, standing in Qin Heming's position at that time, witnessing her beloved possibly falling into such a hell... she would also make the same choice, or perhaps even more extreme.

There is only one goal: to keep him alive, at all costs, to keep him alive.

Jiang Yin stumbled off the bed, barefoot, and staggered out of the bedroom as if she were drunk.

The floor was cold, and she fell. She scrambled to her feet, tears blurring her vision. She could only rely on instinct, staggering to the door of the guest room.

She pushed open the door and rushed to the blurry, sleeping figure on the bed, bursting into tears.

Qin Heming was suddenly awakened from his deep sleep, startled, but instinctively opened his arms and hugged the trembling body tightly.

"What's wrong, Yinyin?" His voice, still heavy with sleep, instantly tightened. "Had a nightmare?"

"I...I dreamt..." Jiang Yin sobbed uncontrollably, her words incoherent.

"You're on... the lab table... they're going to... saw you open... you're going to die... sob..."

Qin Heming tightened his arms suddenly, pressing her deeper into his warm chest.

He lowered his head, his chin resting on her damp forehead, his voice slowing and gentle, carrying a calming power, repeating in her ear again and again:

"It's alright, Yinyin... Don't be afraid, your husband's here, everything's alright... It was all a dream. Look, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere..."

Outside the window, the late autumn night rain had stopped sometime earlier.

The clouds dispersed, and a sliver of silvery moonlight shone through the gap in the not-quite-closed curtains, quietly illuminating the guest room floor.

.......

【End of full text】

Thank you for your continued support! Goodbye!