Lu Chen's chilling, bone-deep warning—whispered like a demon—and Zhao Yuhang's wrist, brutally snapped and grotesquely twisted, were two invisible shackles that plunged the entire A-Team office into a suffocating, deathly silence.
Everyone stared as though at a monster, horror etched on their faces, transfixed by the young man's faint, uncanny smile. No one could reconcile this ruthless specter before them with the once-timid "punching bag" Lu Chen, bullied to the brink just days earlier.
Zhao Yuhang collapsed like a mangled carcass, cradling his blood-soaked, agony-wracked wrist and letting out ear-splitting wails that resembled a slaughtered pig's last cries. His face—puffy from past excess—now twisted grotesquely in fear and shame, tears, snot, and sweat plastering every inch, leaving him utterly humbled.
He wanted to curse, to roar that this penniless worm would suffer a horrific death, but the instant his gaze met Lu Chen's serene yet unnervingly all-seeing black eyes, every malicious thought was extinguished like a candle in a hurricane, leaving only… utter, bone-deep terror.
Lu Chen didn't spare him a second glance, as if the fierce avenger of moments ago belonged to someone else. Slowly, he turned, his gaze sweeping over his petrified colleagues—those so frightened they dared not breathe—and finally settling on the one person whose face was flushed with shock and… inexplicable excitement: the office belle, Xu Tingxia.
"Surprised?" Lu Chen's lips curved into a smile, softer now, warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the murderous glitter that had marked his earlier expression. His voice returned to its usual clarity.
Xu Tingxia's heart—already racing after Lu Chen's dramatic rescue—now pounded like a drum, as if ready to burst from her chest at his unexpected tenderness. Heat bloomed on her fair cheeks, a petal-pink flush of embarrassment and delight, making her look exquisitely vulnerable.
"N-No…" she stammered, shaking her head so slightly it was barely noticeable, her voice a trembling whisper. She couldn't meet his fierce, possessive gaze.
But Lu Chen could "hear" the sweetest truths roiling beneath her composed exterior:
Oh my God! The way he acted… so manly!
Especially when he said, "You'll die a horrible death"—so cool!
Is he standing up for me? Does he… like me?
If he truly likes me… then I…
A confident, almost wicked smile tugged at Lu Chen's lips. He knew Xu Tingxia—marked as an "A-grade potential" on his heart-hunting chart—had been irrevocably claimed by his blend of merciless strength and tender protection. As for Zhao Yuhang, that insolent bootlicker would soon pay the price for his vile behavior.
Of course, breaking one wrist might scare him but wouldn't bring true, irreversible ruin. Lu Chen hungered not just to punish his body but to utterly shatter his pride—in front of Xu Tingxia, in front of every colleague, before the entire FeiChi Group. A deliciously cruel plan of public disgrace quickly crystallized in his sharpened mind.
Over the next two days, Lu Chen acted as if nothing had happened: commuting, tackling mundane tasks, giving no hint of the violent storm he'd unleashed. Meanwhile, immobilized in a heavy cast, Zhao Yuhang dared not return to the office in his usual swagger. He shot Lu Chen furtive, venom-laced glares through his lackeys, burning with hate and humiliation, itching to reclaim his tarnished face.
Friday afternoon brought the weekly Sales Department A meeting. Wang Hai—still smarting from Lu Chen's earlier triumph and the titan-sized thirty-million-dollar order hanging over his head—reluctantly ceded the floor to Lu Chen, under the guise of "honoring our sales champion with a share on winning big deals." It was Wang Hai's petty scheme to force Lu Chen into a public stumble.
Lu Chen surveyed the room—curiosity, schadenfreude, envy, resentment mingling on every face—before resting his gaze on the wounded "prince" slumped at the back, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Good afternoon, everyone." His voice, calm and authoritative, silenced the room. "When it comes to General Jiang's order, it's not nearly as complicated as you might think. Success in closing any major deal, besides product expertise and relentless effort, hinges on…" He paused, letting the anticipation build. "…precise insight into human nature and a profound grasp of the client's true needs."
A low snort escaped Zhao Yuhang: "Oh, Sales Champion Lu, real subtle—you say 'insight into human nature,' 'grasp of true needs.' Funny, I heard you only got Jiang's order through… certain 'special services.'" His words dripped with vicious slander, intended to provoke Lu Chen into a fit of rage.
But Lu Chen remained unflinching. He slowly withdrew his phone, tapped play, and a mature, sultry female voice, laced with breathy moans and a magnetic rasp, emanated through the speaker:
"Lu Chen… you're so bad… using that to 'punish' me… but… I like it… I like your domineering… I like how unreasonable you are… I love it when you…"
In an instant, the room erupted. Colleagues gaped at Lu Chen, jaws slack, incredulous that the once-dull "turtle" had cultivated such an intimate bond with the notorious "dragon lady," Jiang Wanxing.
Zhao Yuhang's face bled from crimson to ashen; for the first time, real terror and hopelessness flickered in his eyes. How could he have that recording?! This can't be real… If anyone hears this, I'll be ruined. My father will kill me; Xu Tingxia will despise me… Lu Chen, you devil!
"Any more questions about 'how to win big orders'?" Lu Chen's tone was icily gentle. "If you can't keep your tongue in check and keep spreading baseless rumors, next time I won't just play a recording." With that, he turned and strode away, leaving behind nothing but awe and fear.
Zhao Yuhang slumped, a hollow puppet drained of soul, awaiting his corporate crucifixion. Meanwhile, Xu Tingxia watched Lu Chen's tall, confident back, her eyes shining like twin stars, her heart alight with dreams yet unspoken.