"The stock has stabilized," Chairman Zhou began, voice almost conversational. "Thanks to the rapid response after the press release... the market has recovered. But stabilization is not full trust. And your credibility is still under scrutiny."
He paused. "The press conference... it was poorly handled. Public sentint might be swayed by the surrogate story, but investors and partners are watching closely. One misstep now could undo everything."
Lu Zeyan nodded slowly. "The surrogate explanation....."
"Helps," Director Chen interrupted. "It helps with moral perception. It shifts the narrative from scandal to misunderstanding. But it does not erase questions about leadership judgnt."
"But," Chairman Zhou continued, "you must understand that appearance and control matter. You allowed the company and the public to hang in uncertainty before revealing key facts. That is not sothing easily forgiven in leadership."
Director Liu leaned forward, blunt as always. "The public may forgive the personal aspect. Investors and partners? They expect competence and foresight. Delayed reactions cost confidence, and confidence is fragile."
"The company needs stability, predictability, and a leader who can handle crises decisively," Zhou said, voice calm but heavy. "You have the tools, you have the authority... but you must act now."
Lu Zeyan swallowed. "So... what do you want from ?"
Chairman Zhou’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Handle the situation. Take control of the narrative. Ensure this story does not spiral again. Protect the company. Protect the stock. Protect the investors. And most importantly..." He leaned back, gaze piercing. "Do not let personal entanglents interfere with your judgnt."
Another board mber, Director Wang, added softly, "For what it’s worth, you are capable of navigating this. But brilliance without caution... is dangerous. We trust you to prove that you are more than just clever."
No one rose. They didn’t leave him. They didn’t push him out. They watched him, silent, expectant, like predators ensuring he understood the stakes.
Lu Zeyan’s hands tightened into fists under the table. The weight of the warning pressed down on him like a vice.
The room’s authority was clear: he was still in command, but one wrong move and everything could collapse.
Chairman Zhou finally stood, straightening his jacket. "This board will not remove you, yet. But we are watching. Handle it, Zeyan. The company depends on your judgnt now more than ever."
One by one, the board mbers filed out, leaving him alone in the room.
Lu Zeyan exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.
The walls that had once felt like a command center now felt like a cage.
And sowhere across the city, Shuyin’s video had already stabilized the stock, shifted public opinion... and reminded him that, no matter what the board said, she was still untouchable in ways he couldn’t control.
The mont the boardroom doors closed, silence pressed in from all sides.
Lu Zeyan remained seated for several seconds, hands clasped in front of his mouth, elbows heavy on the table.
Not removed.
Not forgiven.
Not trusted.
Just... monitored.
And sowhere out there, Shuyin was laughing at him while saving him at the sa ti.
He stood slowly, every movent controlled, like he was afraid any sudden shift might crack sothing inside him.
The hallway outside was emptier now, executives had scattered like birds sensing a storm. Even the usually crowded elevator lobby was clear, security having escorted the horde of reporters out of the building one by one.
No flashing caras.
No shouted accusations.
No chaos.
Just polished floors, quiet echoes, and the distant hum of the building returning to order.
He walked back to his office with long, asured strides.
Assistants kept their heads lowered when he passed.
Staff bowed, then scurried out of his way.
Every pair of eyes carried the sa mixed expression, respect, fear, and the heavy awareness that he’d just been reprimanded by the board.
His office door clicked shut behind him.
Finally alone.
He exhaled long and slow breaths, pulled off his suit jacket, and tossed it over the back of the chair. His tie ca next, loosened just enough so he could breathe.
His desk was already stacked with files, contracts, crisis reports, statents, regulatory requests, and PR drafts.
A fresh tray of docunts had been delivered while he was with the board.
Of course.
No ti to recover.
No space to feel.
No room for weakness.
He sank into the chair and reached for the nearest file.
Work. Numbers. Structure. Logic.
Things he could control.
Unlike her.
Wang Jing peeked in quietly. "President Lu... the reporters have been escorted out. No dia is waiting outside. The PR team has begun rolling out the new narrative. The online pressure has dropped by nearly sixty percent."
He nodded without looking up. "Good. Send all dia responses every hour. I’ll review them myself."
"Yes, sir."
She left, the door closing softly behind her.
The office settled again into that heavy, suffocating stillness.
On his desk, his phone buzzed once.
He didn’t need to check to know who it was.
Yueling.
Another blow he wasn’t ready to take.
He slid the phone aside, face hardening, and forced his focus onto the spreadsheets in front of him.
Work.
Order.
Stability.
He would fix this.
He had to.
Because he was no longer just managing a crisis....
He was trying to outrun a woman who had every intention of destroying him, reforming him, or both.
Lu Zeyan picked up his pen.
And as the sun dipped low behind the city skyline, he forced himself back into the one battlefield he still knew how to control:
Work.
YUELING & MADAM CHEN — THE UNEASY QUIET
The apartnt was too quiet.
Yueling sat stiffly on the sofa, fingers twisting the hem of her designer blouse, her expression a mix of disbelief and unease.
Madam Chen paced back and forth across the carpet, her heels tapping a sharp rhythm that betrayed the tension curling under her skin.
Neither of them had expected that.
Shuyin....
The Shuyin who could fight back tooth and nail had just accepted that.....
Had looked at their surrogacy proposal...
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