Chapter 4 - The Manor on the Ridge
The Lu Estate was not a house; it was a fortress carved into the side of Mount Zixia, surrounded by three miles of private pine forest and a high stone wall topped with security cameras that tracked the car like silent, black birds.
As the Maybach wound up the long, private driveway, Lin Chen looked out the window. Through the rain, she could see manicured gardens, marble fountains that looked older than the city itself, and a main villa built in the style of a traditional Northern courtyard, but scaled up to the size of a municipal museum.
"Listen to me carefully," Lu Zongheng said, his voice dropping as the car slowed near the grand entrance. "My grandfather, Lu Zhengyi, is eighty-two. He founded Dami Technology thirty years ago with three lathes and a state loan. He is sharp, he is paranoid, and he hates weak people."
"And your uncle?" Lin Chen asked, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
"My uncle, Lu Guowei, wants my seat on the board. His daughter, Miaomiao, wants my shares to pay off her real estate debts in Singapore. They will attack your background, your education, your clothes, and your family."
"Let them," Lin Chen said, her eyes flashing with a sudden, stubborn light. "I grew up in a neighborhood where women fought over the price of scallions with meat cleavers. Your uncle doesn't scare me, Mr. Lu."
Lu Zongheng looked at her profile—the sharp nose, the straight line of her spine, the way her chin tilted up when she was defensive. A faint smile touched his lips.
"Don't call me Mr. Lu in front of them," he said. "Call me Zongheng. Or... something more intimate, if you can stomach it."
"Zongheng is fine," she said quickly. "Anything else is extra."
The Maybach stopped. The driver opened the door, and the cold air hit them, carrying the rich, wet scent of cedar and pine.
They walked through a massive pair of rosewood doors into a hall that could have held three city buses. The floors were black marble, polished to such a high sheen that Lin Chen felt like she was walking on frozen water.
At the far end of the hall, near a massive stone fireplace where birch logs were crackling, three people sat on high-backed mahogany chairs.
An old man with a silver-topped cane. A middle-aged man in an ill-fitting designer suit. And a young woman in a scarlet dress who was staring at her phone with an expression of profound boredom.
As Lu Zongheng and Lin Chen approached, the young woman looked up. Her eyes swept over Lin Chen's jeans, her wet sneakers, and her cheap canvas bag.
"Zongheng," the young woman sneered, her voice carrying across the marble like a whistle. "Did you stop by an orphanage on your way from the airport? Or did the company's stock drop so low you had to hire a housemaid from the street?"
Lin Chen didn't flinch. She stopped right beside Lu Zongheng, looked the girl in the scarlet dress up and down, and then turned to Lu Zongheng with an innocent expression.
May you like
"Zongheng," she asked, loud enough for every servant in the hall to hear. "Is this the niece you told me about? The one who failed her accounting exams three times in London?"
The room went dead silent.
