The dimly lit study of the Su mansion was thick with the bitter scent of burning alcohol, heavy perfume, and broken porcelain.
A priceless Ming dynasty vase lay shattered against the floorboards, its fractured pieces glittering like jagged teeth under the dim light of the wall sconces.
Madam Su paced the room like a caged, rabid animal. Her expensive silk shawl was disheveled, slipping off her trembling shoulders, and her face was a hollow, pale mask of pure terror.
Across from her, Su Ruo sat huddled on the plush velvet sofa, her eyes bloodshot, puffy, and swollen from hours of frantic, hysterical weeping. The devastating reality of Old Master Su's grand declaration downstairs had finally sunk into their bones.
The sudden freezing of their primary domestic bank accounts and secondary corporate credit lines just thirty minutes ago had left them staring directly into a terrifying abyss.
