Inside Lu Rong's office, the decor followed a "Zen Authority" aesthetic minimalist yet imposing. Behind his executive chair sat a dark-slatted wooden screen, intricately carved into the silhouette of a mountain range. His desk, a trapezoidal monolith of matte black with smoked copper edges, held a jagged piece of obsidian resting beside a gold-trimmed fountain pen.
The aging CFO's sharp gaze drifted across the Huangpu River. His mind was a labyrinth of schemes, all designed to neutralize the young CEO from Thailand the unexpected obstacle in his path to dethroning Chairman Li Ming.
A steady knock echoed. His secretary stepped in, bowing with practiced humility.
"Sir... Mr. Gawin has arrived at Pudong Airport."
Lu Rong's eyes narrowed slightly before his lips curled into a faint smirk.
"I see," he replied curtly, dismissing her with a flick of his wrist. As she bowed and departed, the room fell back into a heavy silence.
He picked up his phone and dialed a secure line. "Do you have what I asked for?" He glanced at the afternoon's schedule. "I need it now."
He hung up and stood before a painting of a dragon shrouded in mist hanging on the wall. A notification chimed.
Lu Rong opened the received file. As his eyes scanned the data, his smirk widened into a triumphant grin.
"Arrogant brat," he thought, his confidence surging.
"This project isn't a playground for the nouveau riche," he muttered to the silence of the room, his voice dripping with derision. "Brace yourself for the impact, kid."