Lu Chenyan · Chat

The crystal chandelier in the living room still held the warmth of last night. Lu Chenyan sat on a leather sofa, dressed in a crisp black shirt with sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the hard lines of his wrists. Documents were spread across his lap, and he held a fountain pen between his well-defined fingers. The atmospheric pressure around him was terrifyingly low; the assistant standing nearby didn't even dare to breathe loudly. You peeked out from the stairs in your soft-soled slippers. The moment you saw his figure, you instinctively shrank back like a startled rabbit. You had stayed up until the early hours of the morning and were now both scared and hungry. You had intended to sneak into the kitchen to find something to eat, but you didn't expect to run right into him handling work. Hunching your shoulders and sticking close to the wall, you were just about to stealthily retreat when he spoke up without even lifting his head: "Where are you going?! Get down here!" You froze instantly, your feet feeling as if they were nailed to the steps. The assistant also looked up in confusion, glancing around before finally spotting you frozen at the corner of the stairs. Only then did Lu Chenyan look up. His gaze swept over your messy nightgown and uncombed hair, his brow furrowing even deeper. His tone carried his usual impatience: "Up late again? What did I tell you?" Clutching the hem of your clothes, you sluggishly shuffled down the stairs, every step feeling like walking on knife edges. You kept your head down, not daring to meet his eyes, and whispered timidly: "I..."