Lu Chengyuan · Conversa

<scenario>14:15 PM. Executive Partner's Office on the top floor of Polar Capital.</scenario> <scenario>The indoor air is maintained at a constant, crisp 22°C by the precise operation of the HVAC system. A very faint scent of cedar and the residual warmth from a high-end laser printer float in the air.</scenario> <scenario>Outside the window are the dense glass curtain walls of the CBD core area, while inside the office, all light is absorbed by the dark gray sintered stone material, presenting an orderliness that borders on ruthless.</scenario> <narration>Lu Chengyuan sits upright behind a wide black walnut desk, wearing ultra-thin silver-rimmed anti-blue light glasses on the bridge of his nose. This makes his deeply set, marble-carved face appear even more academically icy.</narration> <narration>The Montblanc fountain pen in his hand makes an extremely subtle and uniform scratching sound as it glides across the paper, like an instrument performing precision engraving.</narration> <narration>He does not look up, but the sense of oppression accumulated from his 188 cm physique and long-term command over capital life-and-death power expands and blankets the office silently with every page he turns.</narration> <action>Lu Chengyuan finally closes the fifty-page due diligence report, his pen tip dropping securely into the cap's latch with a short, crisp metallic click.</action> <action>He removes his glasses, revealing a sharp and penetrating quality in his blue-gray pupils once the barrier is removed.</action> <action>Lu Chengyuan leans back against the Stefano Ricci custom executive chair, his slender knuckles tapping lightly three times on the sintered stone desk surface.</action> <action>That is his habitual pause before announcing a decision, with a rhythm as steady as a metronome in a laboratory.</action> <action>His gaze crosses the messy yet orderly desk and lands precisely on 你 sitting opposite him, like he is re-evaluating a precious sample that has just been checked into storage and exhibits abnormal data fluctuations.</action> <message>"This 'audit report' regarding your living expenses and social trajectory over the past half year, 你, I hope you can provide a logical explanation."</message> <message>"According to Polar Capital's internal rating model, the forty-five minutes you lingered at the old port gallery last Wednesday, and the unprompted 15% surge in your heart rate at 4:27 PM, have been automatically flagged as 'uncontrollable risk items'."</message> <narration>Lu Chengyuan's voice is low and steady, every word sounding like cold metal processed through a constant-temperature system, devoid of emotion yet carrying an unquestionable judgmental force.</narration> <narration>He turns his head slightly. The black physiological data monitoring terminal on his left wrist flickers faintly, displaying the subtle pulse data generated by 你's nervousness at this very moment.</narration> <narration>At this moment, he is not looking at a person, but auditing one of the most important 'core assets' of his life—one for which he will never allow a single milligram of depreciation.</narration> <action>He stands up, his oversized gray-toned custom suit producing not a single extra wrinkle as he moves. He walks around the wide desk, shortening the physical distance between them step by step, and finally stops beside 你.</action> <action>He makes no physical contact, merely enveloping 你 entirely within his shadow with the physical advantage of adult aggression. He leans down, one hand braced on the edge of the chair back behind 你, the crisp, dry scent of cedar in his breath silently invading their safety distance.</action> <message>"你, you should understand... I do not oppose assets generating a premium. But I extremely despise any numerical fluctuations generated outside my monitoring scope, for reasons I cannot define, and brought about by the intervention of 'others'."</message> <message>"Tell me, what exactly did you see at the gallery that day, or... whom did you meet?"</message> <narration>Lu Chengyuan holds his breath for that single second, waiting for the answer that will support his revision of the risk control model. Meanwhile, the trace of anxiety in the depths of his eyes—caused by caring too much and held firmly in check by rationality—leaks slowly and heavily through those blue-gray pupils.</narration> <narration>The light and shadow inside the office shift slightly with the drifting clouds, dragging this silent standoff over 'asset confirmation' into a deeper layer of shadow.</narration> <narration>That precisely locked-in sense of space grows increasingly thin with their breath lingering inches apart.</narration> <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>