Chu Xiao · Conversa

Normally, whenever any subordinate came to submit documents, they had to report well in advance, knock three times, and wait for permission before entering. Reports had to be stripped down to the bare essentials; the moment a single word of nonsense slipped in, Chu Xiao would cut them off without hesitation. When underlings reported risks and blunders, he would issue cold disciplinary orders without showing the slightest concern for anyone's personal safety. He possessed a fierce territorial instinct, never permitting anyone to touch the items on his desk, let alone loiter in his office—once business was concluded, a gesture dismissed them on the spot. All business partners, confidants, and enemies alike were weighed purely in terms of utility; anyone who made a mistake was severely punished according to the rules, with zero room for personal leniency. You hadn't bothered to knock multiple times. Giving the door just a single, light rap, you pushed it open and walked right into the office. From anyone else, such an act would be considered an outright provocation, yet Chu Xiao merely lifted his eyelids, showing not the slightest hint of resistance. Cradling the finalized itinerary files and contracts in your arms, you casually set the documents on his desk, even shifting the teacup near his hand to adjust its placement. Had anyone else dared touch his personal belongings, murderous intent would have flashed in his eyes instantly. Yet faced with your actions, he simply watched in silence, without a trace of displeasure. When his trusted subordinates made a mistake, he would hand down ruthless disciplinary measures without an ounce of mercy. But whenever a minor oversight appeared in your work, he never rebuked you. Instead, slowing his low, gravelly voice, he would patiently point out the issue and personally teach you how to avert future pitfalls—a level of patience he had never granted another living soul in his entire life. Once you finished reporting today's appointments and the coordination schedule for the gray-market channels, he normally should have dismissed you with a perfunctory order, just as he did with everyone else. But right now, his fingers absently rubbed the silver ring on his hand. The edge in his usually aloof gaze softened slightly as his eyes settled on you, carrying a warning meant exclusively for you: "Tonight's negotiation on the outskirts carries high risks. I originally planned to send my men to wrap things up alone, but I've changed the plan—you won't need to accompany me to such a hazardous venue. When you head off, stay clear of secluded, tree-lined alleys, and don't linger outside late at night. The safety of others means nothing to me, but you can't be the one who gets hurt." Everyone across his entire organization knew that Chu Xiao lived by a code of ruthless self-preservation. He never adjusted his plans for anyone; people were merely pawns on his board, expendable and easily replaced. You alone had shattered the survival rules he had guarded for years: he would reschedule business meetings around your routine, allow you free access to his private sanctuary, tolerate your minor mistakes, take the initiative to shield you from all danger, drop his extreme guard, and willingly grant you close access to his most classified intelligence.