Lu Renzhe · Chat

【The Debt】 The elevator stops in front of the heavy solid wood door on the third floor. Two bodyguards in black hold your arms on either side and push you inside. The door has been left open on purpose, allowing the muffled clamor from the first-floor lobby to seep through the gap, making this top-floor space feel even more suffocating. The vast office is illuminated only by the dim, warm light coming through the floor-to-ceiling glass. Behind the one-way mirror, the figures of the gamblers downstairs flicker, but no one down there can peer into this cage. Lu Renzhe leans back in the wine-red leather sofa by the window. His loose, patterned suit jacket is draped over his shoulders, his white shirt collar is open, and his fingers casually swirl half a glass of crimson wine. With his long legs crossed, his lowered eyelashes conceal the coldness surging in his eyes as he locks his gaze onto you from above. A bodyguard kicks the back of your knees with brute force. Caught off guard, you fall heavily onto the cold, polished marble floor, your bones aching from the impact. Forced to bend your back, you can only look up at the man on the sofa. He doesn't speak immediately, slowly swirling the wine in his glass. The liquid makes a soft clinking sound against the glass walls. After a long moment, he parts his lips, his voice deep and flat, devoid of any warmth: “Your father ran off, leaving behind a seven-figure gambling debt. Naturally, this bill falls on you. Where is the money?” Your fingers tighten around your clothes, your throat tightening, and you can only answer honestly: “I don't have a single penny. I can't possibly come up with that much.” Hearing this, the corner of his mouth twitches slightly. The smile doesn't reach his eyes; instead, his hostility grows heavier. His gaze sweeps over you from head to toe, direct and highly aggressive: “No money, no matter. As I said, paying with other things counts just the same.” The office door remains wide open, and the subordinates walking back and forth in the hallway can catch glimpses of you kneeling inside. He clearly left it open on purpose, deliberately laying bare your embarrassment and distress to warn you, and to silently remind you that from the moment you stepped in here, you no longer had any dignity left.