Ling Xu set the document down.
"The numbers don't add up."
Across the conference table, the regional executive swallowed. His throat bobbed visibly. A bead of sweat traced a slow path down his temple.
"I... I'll have the finance department prepare another report. By tomorrow morning. First thing."
"You should have prepared it before this meeting."
The man's face went pale. Not the pale of embarrassment. The pale of genuine fear. His hands trembled slightly against his leather-bound folder.
Around the room, no one spoke. Twenty executives sat in perfect stillness. The only sounds were the hum of the ventilation system and the distant murmur of traffic twenty floors below.
Everyone in Ling Corporation knew the same thing.
Chairman Ling was respected.
Ling Xu was feared.
Not because he shouted. Not because he threw things or made threats. He never raised his voice. He simply looked at you until you wished he had. His silences were heavier than any explosion. His calm was more terrifying than any rage.
The executive hurriedly flipped through his files. His fingers slipped on the pages.
"I have another proposal regarding the acquisition. I believe if we restructure the payment schedule—"
A phone vibrated.
Ling Xu glanced at the screen.
'Mu'er.'
His expression shifted. A flicker. Barely perceptible. But those who worked closely with him saw it. The slight tightening around his eyes. The almost imperceptible tension in his jaw.
He lifted one finger.
The executive stopped speaking mid-sentence. His mouth remained open. The words died in his throat.
Silence swallowed the conference room. Even the air conditioning suddenly sounded loud. The executives held their breath. No one moved. No one blinked.
Everyone watched as Ling Xu answered the call.
"...Mu'er."
There was no reply. Only breathing. Uneven. Shallow. The sound of someone struggling to draw air into their lungs.
Ling Xu waited. His thumb pressed against the phone's edge. White-knuckled.
Then.
"...Uncle."
The voice trembled. It cracked on the last syllable. Every person in the room looked up. Their eyes fixed on their boss, on the phone pressed against his ear.
Ling Xu straightened in his seat. His spine went rigid.
"Mu'er. What's wrong?"
"...Where are you?"
A shaky breath answered him. The sound of someone trying to speak but failing. Trying to be brave but breaking apart.
"I..."
A deafening crash exploded through the speaker. The sound of metal hitting metal. The sharp, ringing impact of a fist against a hollow door.
Bang!
Something groaned. The frame of a door. The hinges.
A man's voice. Angry. Slurred. Unintelligible.
"You little..."
Another violent bang. This one louder. Closer. The unmistakable sound of someone kicking a door with full force.
Lin Chuan gasped. The sound was sharp, startled. A gasp that turned into a sob.
His breathing dissolved into broken, ragged sounds. The kind of crying that came from somewhere deep. Somewhere primal.
The phone slipped from his hand. It struck the tiled floor with a sharp crack. The call remained connected.
Through the speaker came the unmistakable sound of someone trembling. The phone itself rattled against the ground, picked up by the vibration of Lin Chuan's shaking body.
"Mu'er."
No answer.
"Mu'er."
Nothing. Only another kick. Another drunken curse. The sound of a man laughing. Then silence.
The line remained connected.
Ling Xu stood.
Every executive instinctively shrank back. Chairs scraped against the floor. Papers rustled as people moved away from him.
"Location."
One word. Flat. Cold. The temperature in the room dropped by several degrees.
One of the bodyguards already had his own phone pressed against his ear.
"Young Master is on the pirave room side of the club."
A pause.
"He lost visual after he entered the restroom."
Another pause.
"The restroom door is locked from the inside."
Ling Xu's hand tightened around his phone.
Crack.
The tempered glass splintered beneath his grip. Fractures radiated outward from his thumb. The screen flickered, went dark, and stayed dark.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
The executive nearest him felt cold sweat trickle down his spine. He stared at the phone. At the cracked screen. At the way the glass had shattered inward.
He thought about the rumors. The whispers that followed Ling Xu wherever he went. That he wasn't entirely human. That he'd survived things no ordinary person could survive. That the coldness in his eyes wasn't just personality.
"...Monster."
The thought appeared involuntarily. The executive suppressed it immediately. He forced his gaze away. He looked at his own hands. The hands that were trembling.
Ling Xu didn't seem to notice. He was already walking toward the door. His strides were long. Purposeful. His suit jacket billowed behind him.
He was already gone. His voice echoed back from the corridor.
"Move."
---
The bathroom smelled like bleach.
Lin Chuan wrapped both arms around himself. His fingers dug into his own biceps. Hard enough to leave marks. He couldn't stop shaking. The trembling was violent. Uncontrollable. His entire body convulsed with it.
He hated it.
Every logical thought in his mind told him the danger was small. The man outside was drunk, injured, slow, one kick, one elbow. One well-placed strike to the throat and it would be over. He'd learned that. He'd trained for that.
So why?
Why wouldn't his body listen?
Bang!
The stall door shuddered again. The lock groaned. The metal bent a little more.
"Come out, you little bitch. You think you can hide? I own this place. I know everyone here. No one's coming to help you. No one gives a shit about people like you."
The words blurred into noise. Into static. Into the roar of blood in his ears.
Lin Chuan buried his face against his knees. His shoulders shook. His breathing came in short, painful bursts. The kind of breathing that preceded hyperventilation. He knew the signs. He'd studied them in a psychology textbook once. Theory and practice were very different things.
The world narrowed. The only things left were the pounding. The shouting. The smell of alcohol seeping beneath the stall door. The memory of another bathroom. Another locked door. Another drunk man who wouldn't stop.
Then.
Silence.
Complete silence.
The shouting disappeared. The banging stopped. The man's voice cut off mid-curse, as if someone had pressed a mute button.
Someone unlocked the restroom door. The click of the lock turning. The creak of hinges.
Heavy footsteps. More than one person. The sound of expensive shoes on marble. The rustle of fabric. A grunt and a muffled thud.
Lin Chuan slowly lifted his head. His vision was blurred with tears. He couldn't make out faces. Only shadows. Dark shapes moving in the bright fluorescent light.
Then something warm settled over his shoulders.
A suit jacket. Expensive wool. It blocked the cold air, blocked the curious eyes, blocked the world. A familiar scent drifted into his nose. Cedar, paper and a trace of sandalwood. Clean, Sharp, Grounding.
"...It's alright."
The voice was low. Steady. Unhurried. The same voice that had answered the phone. The same calm that had steadied him before.
Somehow the shaking eased. Only a little. But enough.
"Uncle..."
Ling Xu crouched in front of him. His face was in shadow. But his eyes were visible. Dark. Concerned. Not angry. Not impatient. Just... present.
"You don't have to look."
His voice remained calm. Quiet. The kind of quiet that didn't demand anything.
"I'm here."
Strong hands gently helped him to his feet. Ling Xu's grip was firm but careful. His fingers didn't squeeze. They supported.
Lin Chuan stumbled once. His legs weren't working properly. They felt like water. Like they might collapse at any moment.
Ling Xu caught him immediately. His hand remained lightly against Lin Chuan's shoulder. Guiding. Not forcing.
"I..."
His voice broke. The words got stuck in his throat.
"I'm sorry."
"There is nothing to apologize for."
Behind them, muffled shouting. A man cried out in pain. Something heavy struck the floor. The sound of a body falling. Another voice, authoritative, commanding, giving orders.
Lin Chuan instinctively turned his head.
Ling Xu's hand rested lightly against the back of his neck.
He guided Lin Chuan toward the exit. His body blocked the view. His shoulders were broad. His presence filled the space. Lin Chuan saw only the back of his uncle's jacket. The expensive fabric. The perfect tailoring. The way his shoulders didn't move even as chaos erupted behind them.
The night air hit his face. Cold. Sharp. It smelled like exhaust and rain and the distant promise of a storm. The city hummed around them. Cars rushed past. A siren wailed somewhere far away.
A black sedan waited beside the curb. The rear door opened before they reached it. A driver in a dark suit held it open, his face expressionless.
Ling Xu helped him inside. His hand was still on the back of Lin Chuan's neck. Gentle. Protective. He guided him into the seat. Buckled his seatbelt. Closed the door.
Only then did Lin Chuan glance back.
Through the open car door, before it closed completely, he saw blurred figures. Men in black suits. Someone on the pavement, unmoving. Another man being held by two others. His face was bloody. His nose bent at an unnatural angle. His expensive suit was torn.
And the smell. The unmistakable smell of fresh blood drifting through the cool night air. Coppery. Warm. It mixed with the exhaust and the rain and the city noise.
The car door closed.
The city disappeared behind tinted glass.
Ling Xu sat beside him. His face was calm. His hands rested on his knees. His suit was immaculate.
Lin Chuan stared at him.
"Are you bleeding?"
The question came out soft. Confused.
Ling Xu looked at him. His expression didn't change.
"No."
"The smell..."
"That's not my blood."
Lin Chuan blinked. The words took a moment to process.
He looked down at his own hands. They were still shaking. But less than before. His fingers were pale. His nails were clean. No blood.
The jacket still wrapped around his shoulders smelled like cedar and sandalwood. It was warm. It was heavy.
He pressed his face into the fabric and closed his eyes.
He didn't ask what had happened to the man in the bathroom.
He didn't ask what Ling Xu had done.
He didn't want to know.
The car pulled away from the curb.
The city lights streaked past.
And for the first time since arriving in this world, Lin Chuan felt something that might have been safety.