The air turned to glass as Lu Jianjun set his phone down with deliberate precision. Twenty-three executives held their breath, their pens hovering over untouched notepads. The only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioning - a pathetic counterpoint to the tectonic shift occurring at the head of the table.
Lu Jianjun's fingers steepled beneath his chin, the dim lighting catching the sharp line of his knuckles. His assistant looked at him like he might spontaneously combust. The way his eyes darted between his boss and the lit phone screen suggested that whatever Lu Jianjun was calculating that might be not preferable to whatever came next.
"We're taking a short break."
His voice sliced through the tension like a scalpel. Chairs scraped backward as the room emptied in record time, executives suddenly remembering urgent calls they needed to make. Only Ethan remained, his tablet clutched to his chest like a shield.
