Chapter 7

By ten-thirty, the lunch rush already pressed through the ancestral Shen restaurant, a humid wave of frying oil and simmering broth. Luo Chen stood where Madam Shen had placed him: half in the kitchen corridor, half outside the private room, a silent fixture meant to fetch and carry. His hands moved, wiping down a tray, but his gaze kept drifting to the records-room door, two steps away. A fresh, official seal, stark white against the old, dark wood, declared it off-limits. It wasn't just a lock; it was a public declaration of exclusion.

“Luo Chen!” Madam Shen’s voice cut through the kitchen din, sharp as a cleaver. She emerged from the private room, her face a mask of practiced severity, her silk blouse uncreased despite the heat. “The bank manager is here. Mr. Li. He’s waiting for the updated valuation file. Go and fetch it from the records room. Immediately.”

Her eyes, cold and knowing, flicked to the sealed door, then back to Luo Chen. It was a test, a public humiliation. She knew the room was sealed. She knew he couldn’t access it. The demand was designed to expose his powerlessness, to make him fumble in front of a key financial contact. Shen Guohai, lounging in the doorway of the private room, a smirk playing on his lips, watched the scene unfold. Qin Zhen, the auction intermediary, stood beside him, a picture of polite neutrality, but his eyes held a flicker of anticipation.

Luo Chen met Madam Shen’s gaze, his own expression unreadable. “Madam, the records room is sealed. By order of the family council, pending the new audit. I cannot access it.” His voice was low, steady, devoid of the expected panic. He held up his hands, showing them empty, a gesture of compliance that subtly highlighted the absurdity of her demand.