Chapter 2
The CEO's Office
The elevator ride to the forty-seventh floor felt longer in daylight.
Lin Qian stood alone, holding the temporary badge she had been told to exchange that morning.
The new one was heavier.
Gold-lined.
Executive clearance.
When the doors opened, silence hit first.
The executive floor didn't buzz like the engineering department. It moved quietly. Controlled. Like everyone knew they were being watched.
Eyes lifted the moment she stepped out.
Recognition.
Then confusion.
Then calculation.
She heard the whisper before she reached the reception desk.
"That's her."
"The junior engineer?"
"Why is she here?"
The assistant behind the desk forced a professional smile. "Can I help you?"
"I'm reporting to the CEO's office," Lin Qian said, steady.
A pause.
More glances.
Someone laughed softly.
"Reporting?" a male voice echoed from the corridor. "Since when does Gu Han recruit from the basement?"
A few chuckles followed.
Lin Qian didn't turn.
She had expected resistance.
She had not expected it to feel this personal.
The glass doors to the main executive workspace slid open automatically.
Conversations stopped.
Twenty pairs of eyes.
Some curious.
Some cold.
One openly hostile.
She stood near the center conference table, uncertain whether to sit or remain standing.
That was when heels clicked sharply against marble.
Elegant. Measured. Confident.
Zhao Liying.
Director of Public Relations.
Daughter of Vice President Zhao.
The unofficial queen of the executive floor.
She smiled—but it didn't reach her eyes.
"So," Zhao said lightly, circling Lin Qian as if inspecting something delivered by mistake, "you're the engineer who caught the CEO's attention."
The room leaned in.
Lin Qian kept her chin level. "I work in data modeling."
"How impressive." Zhao tilted her head. "And now you model… what exactly? His schedule?"
Soft laughter again.
Lin Qian felt the heat rise to her face.
This wasn't about competence.
This was territory.
"I report directly to him," Lin Qian said calmly.
The smile disappeared.
"Directly?" Zhao repeated.
She stepped closer.
"Do you know how many senior managers have been waiting years for that access?"
A beat.
"Or did you earn it overnight?"
The implication hung in the air.
Someone coughed.
No one intervened.
This was a public test.
Lin Qian inhaled slowly.
"I was assigned based on algorithmic deviation risk."
The room blinked.
Zhao's eyes narrowed. "Speak in language we understand."
"It means," Lin Qian replied quietly, "the CEO made a strategic decision."
A chair scraped.
Zhao's composure cracked just slightly.
"You should understand something," she said softly, lowering her voice but ensuring everyone could hear. "This floor doesn't tolerate mistakes."
Her gaze dropped deliberately to Lin Qian's badge.
"Temporary things disappear quickly."
And then—
The glass doors opened.
Silence deepened instantly.
Gu Han walked in.
No raised voice.
No dramatic entrance.
Just presence.
He scanned the room once.
Stopped at Zhao.
Then at Lin Qian.
He took in the positioning.
The tension.
The audience.
His tone was even.
"Is there a problem?"
Zhao recovered first. "We were just clarifying Miss Lin's new role."
"Good," he said.
A beat.
"Then allow me to clarify further."
He stepped beside Lin Qian.
Not in front of her.
Beside her.
Deliberate.
"She reports only to me."
The room went still.
Zhao forced a polite smile. "Of course. We were only concerned about—"
"My decisions," he interrupted calmly, "are not subject to floor discussion."
No volume increase.
No visible anger.
But the temperature dropped.
He looked at Lin Qian.
"Prepare the Aurora-X risk projection for Zhen Capital. We present to the board at ten."
Then his gaze returned to the room.
"If anyone has concerns," he added coolly, "submit them through proper channels."
A fractional pause.
"I recommend careful wording."
Silence.
No one laughed this time.
Zhao stepped back first.
Lin Qian felt something shift in the air.
Not acceptance.
Not yet.
But alignment.
Gu Han began walking toward his office.
Without looking back, he said—
"Miss Lin."
She followed.
The glass doors closed behind them.
The whispers exploded immediately outside.
Inside, it was quiet.
Controlled.
He removed his cufflinks, placing them neatly on his desk.
"You handled that poorly," he said without looking at her.
Her stomach dropped.
"But," he continued, "you didn't retreat."
He finally met her eyes.
"And that," he added quietly, "is why they're threatened."
Her pulse steadied.
Outside the glass walls, Zhao stood watching.
Not defeated.
Calculating.
War had just moved inside the executive floor.
And this time—
It wasn't just corporate.