*Creak—*
The heavy walnut office door parted slightly.
A wave of scent—new leather, rosewood, and synthetic air freshener—washed over the threshold.
Yang Xiaochuan stood silhouetted in the doorway, clutching the swollen, corner-frayed kraft envelope. His worn work jacket sleeve scraped the frame with a faint rasp. Dust-caked rubber boots, soles cracked and splitting, left ghostly imprints on the obsidian-polished hardwood floor.
Within the office:
Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city’s ashen skyline. An imposing rosewood desk gleamed like dark water. A leather high-back chair stood like a throne. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves displayed orderly rows of gilt-tooled volumes and document boxes behind glass. A leather sofa gleamed coldly in a corner. Everything pristine, opulent,
