The door clicked softly again, but this time it was Jin Zhou who entered, silent as always. He carried a stack of files, thick folders bound in leather, and placed them on the small table beside the couch.
Their eyes met only briefly, Jin Shuren gave the faintest nod, and Jin Zhou withdrew without a word, leaving the documents in his care.
Jin Shuren pulled the first file toward him, flipping it open with a steady hand.
It was full of numbers, contracts, reports, the machinery of his world waited for his judgment, demanding order even in the midst of chaos.
His eyes moved over the pages, sharp and unyielding, but every few minutes his gaze drifted back to the bed.
There they lay, fragile and irreplaceable, his work for once secondary to something far more delicate.
As he signed his name across the first document, the pen glided smoothly across the paper, his ears remained tuned to the soft breaths across the room.
