I stayed frozen behind the grimy windowpane, the icy dread from the jade pendant the only thing anchoring me. That man, that walking manifestation of Lu Global's cold logic, knew my name. It was the sound of a verdict, spoken in a voice that brooked no appeal.
The silence outside was a weapon. I could hear the quick, shallow breathing of my step-mother, still rooted by the car, her earlier avarice now replaced by a protective suspicion of anyone who might threaten her own petty claims. She had smelled money, and now she was desperate to figure out how to claw a piece of it back.
Finally, I moved. Not toward the door—never toward the danger—but toward the back wall. The small, secluded garden gate was my emergency exit, a route known only to Jiang Mei and myself.
Escape. Survive. Do not be a victim.
Just as my hand reached the latch, a loud, decisive knock hammered on the Workshop door. It wasn't the tentative rap of a neighbor; it was a demand, the sound of metal against aged wood, demanding immediate submission.
"Ms. Xu Ling. I know you are present. Open this door."
The voice was low, clear, and carried an undeniable note of authority. It was the voice of a man who was utterly unused to being denied, a man whose word instantly became physical law.
I hesitated. Running would confirm her step-mother's worst narrative: that I was running from the law, a criminal. That my grandmother's legacy was built on lies. No. I am the Restorer. I face the damage head-on. If I was to fight, it would be on my feet.
I smoothed my tunic, took a deep, steadying breath, and turned toward the door. I would not cower.
I threw the bolt back, and the draft hit me first, carrying the smell of expensive leather, cold rain, and something else—a sharp, almost metallic scent of pure, contained power.
Lu Wei stood there, filling the doorway. He was even taller up close, his presence overwhelming the small, cluttered space. His face, under the brim of the rain-damp charcoal suit, was a study in severe angles and complete emotional control. His eyes—dark, sharp, and entirely devoid of warmth—scanned the Workshop, absorbing the details of my quiet life in a single, surgical sweep: the antique dust, the precise arrangement of tools, the solitude. He was calculating the exact market value of my very existence.
My step-mother finally shuffled over, her voice a whine, her hands wrung together in an almost comical display of false humility. "Sir, I told you, she has nothing of value. Whatever she owes, we can settle—"
Lu Wei cut her off without even turning his head, delivering a dismissal that was worse than any shout. "Your presence is no longer required."
The step-mother sputtered indignantly, her face flushing crimson, but the sheer force of his disinterest was enough to silence her. She retreated a few steps, her resentment simmering, but her greed and curiosity overriding her fear. She knew this man was the key to a world she could only dream of.
"You have no right to barge in here," I said, my voice steady, though the adrenaline was already a roaring tide in my veins. I crossed my arms, mimicking the defensive posture of the chair I was restoring. "Whatever you want, you may address my solicitor."
Lu Wei finally focused on me, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of recognition in his eyes—the briefest acknowledgment of my existence. He stepped past the threshold, closing the door behind him with a soft thud that felt like the final seal on my imprisonment. The small space immediately felt claustrophobic, charged with his presence.
"A solicitor in Willow Creek Hamlet?" He allowed himself the slightest downward curve of the lip—not a smile, but a surgical sneer, a judgment on the insignificance of my world. "Ms. Xu Ling, I don't believe you understood the gravity of the situation you've created for yourself."
He reached into his inner jacket pocket and withdrew a single, sleek device—a tablet that glowed faintly in the dim light. He tapped the screen once, and the image that appeared ripped the air from my lungs.
It was a diagram. A complex, multi-layered schematic of a chemical compound, its structure almost identical to the stabilizing agent I had been researching—the one controlled by Lu Global. But embedded in the schematic were multiple, undeniable lines of proprietary code. It wasn't just research; it was a blueprint for a security breach.
"This is a fragment of the Obsidian File," Lu Wei stated, his voice flat and factual, devoid of accusation, making it all the more terrifying. "It was leaked two weeks ago. My intelligence team tracked the access point to this regional server. And the user who downloaded the schematics, who had been obsessively accessing our R&D journals for the last three months, was you."
The shock was total. My research, my innocent, desperate attempt to use their science to save my Workshop, had connected me to the Consortium of the Shadow Tide—the global crime organization that was the target of every security agency in the country.
"That's impossible," I breathed, my composure finally cracking. The walls of the Workshop seemed to tilt. "I was only researching restoration polymers—I needed a chemical stabilizer for the mahogany..."
"Your specific research methodology is irrelevant," Lu Wei interrupted, his ruthlessness absolute. He didn't care about my intention; he cared only about the result. "You accessed classified data. You are now, officially, a security risk, whether you intended to be or not. And my company doesn't tolerate liabilities."
He walked the length of the Workshop, a predatory inspection, stopping at the table where I had spread my restoration notes. He didn't look at the expensive tools; he looked at the open technical journal, confirming his suspicions without a single word of inquiry. He already had his verdict.
"I have two choices," he continued, turning back to face me, the tycoon's verdict hanging heavy in the air. "I can hand you over to the authorities for corporate espionage and data theft—a move that would involve a very unpleasant interrogation, given the nature of the Obsidian File. They will strip you of your dignity, and they will seize this workshop as evidence of your 'criminal enterprise.'"
He paused, letting the silence draw tight, allowing the image of the police seizing my grandmother's property to burn into my mind.
"Or," he continued, his voice dropping slightly, making the option feel like a terrible privilege. "You come with me. Now. I will secure the legal rights to this property and ensure your step-family ceases all harassment. But in return, you will work exclusively for my firm, under my direct supervision, until I determine you are no longer a security threat."
His proposal was a gilded cage—a direct, cold demand that promised to exchange my suffocating life in Willow Creek for one of overwhelming, permanent control in the Capital. It was the absolute collision of my admired logic and my deepest fear.
My eyes fell to the jade pendant beneath my shirt. A victim, or a warrior? I had no real power against him, but I had my dignity.
"And if I refuse?" I challenged, meeting his icy gaze.
Lu Wei's expression didn't change, but his tone became sharper, colder, utterly devoid of mercy. "You won't have the time to find out. The authorities are already on their way, tipped off by my security team. Your life in Willow Creek ends today, Ms. Xu Ling."
His threat, confirmed by the approaching faint sound of a distant siren, was the final weight.
"You are threatening me with a crime I didn't commit, based on data you failed to secure," I retorted, the remnants of my intellectual pride flaring. "I refuse. My mind is not for sale to cover up your company's security failures."
Lu Wei's lips curled again in that surgical sneer. "Such misplaced morality. You think this is a negotiation, Ms. Xu Ling? You have just admitted to obsessive research of classified data. The Obsidian File is tied to national security. Refusal is not an option; it's confirmation of guilt."
He took a step closer, crowding the space between us. "The authorities will be here in less than five minutes. They will strip you of your dignity, they will seize this workshop, and your beloved grandmother's legacy will be auctioned off to pay for your 'crime.' My offer, however, is discreet. You retain your property, and you work for me until this risk is mitigated. I control the narrative; the authorities do not."
My gaze dropped to the worn wooden floor. My grandmother's legacy. The fear was cold, absolute, paralyzing my will. He hadn't just threatened me; he had targeted the single thing I valued most in the world.
"You are a monster," I whispered, the word tasting like ash.
"Perhaps," Lu Wei agreed easily, glancing at his sleek wristwatch. "But I am a necessary one. Time is up."
He didn't wait for my answer. He simply reached out and took my arm, his grip firm and inescapable, a non-negotiable transfer of ownership. The contact was electric, a searing jolt of dark, intense energy that jarred my entire being.
"Let go of me!" I struggled, pulling back violently, but he held me fast.
"You have chosen the latter option," he stated, his voice flat. "Your resistance only confirms the necessity of this action."
Before I could mount a serious physical fight, the sound I dreaded most—the clear, approaching wail of sirens—reached the Workshop. They were faint, but undeniably present, growing closer by the second.
Panic seized me. My mind flashed to the degrading experience of arrest, the interrogation rooms, the certainty that the step-family would be waiting, triumphant, to seize every last relic of my grandmother's life.
"Stop!" I gasped, the word torn from my throat. My body went completely slack. "I'll go. I'll work for you. Just... don't let them take the Workshop."
Lu Wei's expression didn't change, but his grip instantly eased, transforming from a restraint into a firm guidance. The control he exerted was total; he had won without raising his voice or his hand.
"Wise choice," he murmured, pulling me toward the door. "Your employment begins immediately."
He moved with ruthless efficiency. Shoving the Workshop door open, he pulled me out into the late afternoon light, where the step-mother and several gossiping neighbors were already gathered, eyes wide, pointing toward the rapidly approaching sirens.
"Move back," Lu Wei commanded the small crowd, his voice not loud, but carrying an authority that brooked no debate. His eyes, devoid of any discernible emotion, swept over their faces, silencing their immediate whispers. He paused only long enough to address the step-mother, who was staring at me with a mixture of confusion and spite.
"The ownership of this annex has just been transferred to Lu Global Security under a non-disclosure agreement," Lu Wei announced, his voice clear enough for the entire hamlet to hear. "All current legal actions against the property are null and void. Any harassment of Ms. Xu Ling will now be considered a direct threat to my corporation."
The declaration was a seismic shock. The step-mother's face went white, her jaw dropping. Her dreams of property ownership dissolved into dust, replaced by the terrifying realization that she had just insulted the owner of a property she desperately coveted.
Lu Wei didn't give her time to protest. He literally dragged me across the muddy lane toward the black Maybach, my worn shoes slipping on the wet ground. The sirens were now loud enough to be heard clearly, rounding the last bend into Willow Creek.
"Get in," he ordered, opening the passenger door.
As I collapsed into the opulent, leather-scented seat—the first time I had touched such overwhelming, effortless luxury in years—Lu Wei gave a brief, dismissive nod to his phone. The sirens, which had been accelerating, abruptly began to slow, then vanish entirely.
He had controlled the threat, orchestrated the surrender, and claimed his prize—all within the span of five minutes. He had proven his absolute power, leaving no doubt that I was now entirely within his control.
Lu Wei slid into the driver's seat, the powerful engine humming to life. He glanced at me, his gaze cold and assessing, not a victor celebrating, but a custodian securing a volatile asset.
"Welcome to the Capital, Ms. Xu Ling. Consider your life of quiet solitude officially terminated."
With a silent, seamless maneuver, the Maybach pulled away, leaving the stunned silence, the muddy lane, and the wreckage of my grandmother's legacy behind. My new life had begun, and it was entirely in the hands of the Tycoon's mistake.