Shueqi leads me through a veritable maze of corridors hedged by walls the colour of bleached bone. The longer we walk and the deeper we go, the more the hall resembles the innards of hospitals you see in horror movies. I almost expect to see a psychopath with a syringe break out of the wall.

“Is this like a hidden route to your office? It’s really quiet.” And damn boring. The walls could use a different coat of paint. Even scribbling on it would give this place a spark of liveliness.

“It must seem like it. But no,” Shueqi replies with a hint of laughter to her voice. “This is actually the fire escape route for the inner offices. I’m taking you through this route since there would be too much paperwork for you to fill out if we went the normal way.”

I nod along though she can’t see me. With how bored I was, I had forgotten I wasn’t supposed to be here. “You thought this out well.”

“Rest assured, Ling G–” Shueqi clears her throat. “Mister Han has already emphasized the importance of your visit and keeping it off the books.”

I don’t point out her slip though it made me twice as suspicious about Ling Ge’s relationship with her. I don’t know how she’d react if I started digging. Antagonizing someone would just make this entire situation harder to endure, and since I’m not sure how much she knows, I decided it would be better safe than sorry for now.

I don’t say anything else. We continue walking in silence until a door comes into view. There’s a rectangular black object the size and length of light switch on doorframe. Shueqi taps the card attached to the lanyard around her neck and a quiet click reverberates through the empty space.

“This place really takes it security serious if even a fire escape is this well protected,” I say.

“Don’t worry, you only need an office pass to get inside. Once we go in, you’ll see that the door can be opened from the other side without it.”

Shueqi shoves the door open with a grunt of exertion, holding it open for me. I mutter my thanks as I slip through the space. I stop to let her overtake me just as the door shuts with a metallic thud.

The environment here is completely different from before. This new hallway is furnished with flowering potted plants. Instead of plain white, the wall here is a comforting shade of coffee. The most noticeable change is the layered carpet beneath my shoes squish as I walk. I feel like I’m treading clouds.

We don’t walk for much longer before more signs of life appear. Award plaques hang proudly, extolling the bank’s superiority in investment markets and absolute client satisfaction. I actually prefer this posturing décor over the stark, boring numbness of before. Nothing wrong with being proud of your achievements.

We turn the corner. I have to blink at the sight of six frosted glass dividers, practically becoming walls themselves with how tall they are. They seem to be cordoning off spaces – somewhat like how an plain metal office divider creates cubicles - only fancier.

I glance at Shueqi’s back to make sure she’s not paying attention, then stick my head into one of the spaces. I nearly sigh in jealously. Each cubicle is cosy, but spacious enough fit a beautiful carved walnut desk as well as a waist high cabinet. This particular one has a trimmed bonsai on top of it. I would tip it over for the heck of it, but it wouldn’t be fair to the plant.

I back out of the cubicle and catch up to Shueqi before she notices I’ve gone nosing around.

“It’s good that you arrived when you did. Everyone is usually out to lunch until three.”

“I just followed what Ling Ge told me,” I say.

“Ah. Well. That’s good.”

“He must come here often to be so familiar with this place.”

Shueqi’s tone is snappish, “Your family has been with this bank for years. It shouldn’t come as a surprise.”

Quite touchy, she is. “Sorry about my ignorance, I’m not involved much in the family’s business affairs.”

Shueqi glances over her shoulder, giving me a stiff nod. I dip my head slightly. Turns out my assessment of her was right on the money. I hadn’t said what I did with intention to extract information in mind, but the way she reacted to such an innocent statement was telling.

Apparently appeased by my pseudo apology, Shueqi turns back to scouting the premises. The pace of her walk slows and starts as we pass each area. She’s trying to play off checking for eavesdroppers, but it’s rather obvious. I begin to notice her other tics – the slight shifting of her shoulders, the way her beautiful manicured nails pick at the sleeve of her blouse.

Her anxiety makes me wonder. What did Ling Ge tell her to make her this paranoid?

I assumed Shueqi was bribed to keep our arranged meeting off the records and warned that she could lose her job is things went wrong. But she’d said the Hans dealt with the bank for years. Looking at our surroundings, she’s obviously leading us to her office or private cubicle. To be in a high enough position to have one implies she’s been here for a lengthy amount of time, and she should have experience in this kinds of dealings.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Maybe I’m overthinking it, but I find it peculiar she’s acting as if her neck is on the chopping block.

I know I’d decided not to probe, but things were a little to shady for me to simply stand by. For starters, I’ll ease into it with a safe question.

“I’m kind of curious how working is here is like,” I say. “Could to tell me a little about what you do here?”

She startles at the question. “Why the sudden interest?”

“I’ll probably never work in a bank and I’ve yet to get a permanent job anywhere.” I shrug off her suspicions with a truthful answer. “People say working at a bank can get pretty stressful, so I thought I’d ask. You can’t beat getting a first-hand account. So, how’s it like?”

It takes some time for her to respond. “It depends on what kind of position you hold. Not every employee has the same scope of responsibility. For me, I deal directly with clients, so you could say my work involves plenty of high stress situations.”

“I gathered as much. You wouldn’t be dealing with me if you were a regular staffer.”

Her laugh is brittle. “An astute observation, Lady Mei Ling.”

I strangle the awkward silence before it can take hold. “Look, you don’t need to refer to me like that. I’m younger than you, and honestly, I’m not used to being addressed that way.”

“Oh. But… aren’t you the youngest daughter of Han Shi Wei?”

“I am definitely my father’s daughter if that’s what you’re asking.” There’s no heat to my words, but Shueqi murmurs an embarrassed apology. “Calm down, it’s no a big deal. What you were trying to say was that being part of the Han family, I should be used to being talked to with respect. Right?”

“Yes, that is what I meant.”

“To use a cliched term, I’m what you might consider the black sheep of the family. I’m not surprised you weren’t aware, since it’s something of a dirty family secret.”

“I see.” Shueqi is stunned as she considers my revelation. “That’s surprising. I would have expected that distinction to belong to your brother.”

The distaste in her tone is palpable. Shit, I’m really curious to know what Ling Ge did to warrant this animosity from her.

Misconstruing my silent amusement for, perhaps criticism, she hastily adds, “That’s just based on the things I’ve heard floating around. The rumours of your brother’s exploits might be exaggerated.”

I really, really want tell her that whatever rumours she’s heard, it is very likely correct. But, since I don’t know if this is some kind of test of loyalty to Ling Ge, I settle on a neutral reply. “It depends on who you ask. I don’t have an concrete opinion on either of my siblings. I’d say that being the odd one out isn’t as bad as you think, though. Being a spectator to whatever’s going on in the family is solid entertainment.”

Shueqi huffs out a laugh. “I hope you won’t be offended but… you’re not at all what I expected,” she says.

“You don’t need to soften the blow. I know I don’t fit the same mould as the rest of my family.” When I’d been under the Han household, I hadn’t been raised like Shi Ning was. Even during my childhood, Ying Ze’s bias was clear. Since I wasn’t forced into formal etiquette lessons and didn’t get to socialize without being put down until I met Athea, my manners are definitely lacking when compared to Shi Ning and Ling Ge.

“Not only that. Compared to Ling – your brother, you’re better. More… genuine.” Her words are hesitant. Still, it gives my self-esteem a slight boost. This is one of the rare times I got compared to a sibling and wasn’t found lacking.

“Again, that depends on who you ask. But thanks for the compliment.”

Her footsteps falter, then pick up again. She doesn’t say anything else. The air between us is no longer awkward. It feels like we’ve left off on a good note, so I keep my silence.

“Here we are.” It’s an actual office and not a spaced off cubicle. The plaque on the door spells Shueqi’s surname in broad, bronzed letters. She turns the knob, pushes it open, and gestures for me to enter.

I walk in with a mild sigh of relief. “I thought we were gonna take hours of more walking to get here.” I make myself comfortable on the two seater facing a sturdy lacquered desk. “How do you handle trekking here every day?”

“It gets less unbearable once you’re used to it. I think of it as a starting work out for the rest of my day,” she says. “Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“Will my brother be reaching within the next ten minutes?”

“He hasn’t texted me.”

“Then I’d appreciate some water. Cold, if possible.” I shift uncomfortably. There’s something sharp and cold digging into my back. I reach into the space between the padded cushions, trying to dig out whatever’s sunken into the crevice. I catch something long, the texture grainy like leather. I pull.

“I don’t have any cold drinks, but how about–”

Shueqi stops short when she sees what I’m holding up.

“Is this yours?” I jiggle the belt. Parts of the buckle knock together, producing soft, metallic chimes.

A searing red colour overtakes her face. “Of course.”

I jiggle it again, and she winces. “I’m pretty sure this is a men’s belt.”

“No, it’s not.” Shueqi hurries to snatch it from me. “I like wearing larger sizes. I prefer breathability over fashion.”

“If one end dragging across the ground as you walk is your definition of breathable, then sure.” Shueqi ignores my attempts at comedy and snags the belt from me. She pulls out her desk drawer, tosses the belt inside, and practically punches it shut. “So, what were you saying about the water?”

Shueqi stalks forward and shoves the lukewarm bottle into my hands. Her mouth is pinched and her expression is a strange mix of fury and humiliation. I regard her with fresh eyes, turning over the information in my head.

There’s nothing wrong with her having a men’s belt, but the craftsmanship, the materials, they aren’t something ordinary accessories are made of. The belt clearly belongs to someone with expensive tastes.

Of course, she could be dating a man with deep pockets. Shueqi had dainty facial features, almond shaped eyes, soft brows and skin like a baby’s butt. She was a type of woman most men would go nuts over.

However… her animosity toward Ling Ge is a clue in itself.

I down a mouthful of water – ugh, how long has she kept this? What a weird aftertaste – and take a deep breath. This was going to be ugly. “So. You’re sleeping with my brother.”

Shueqi grits her teeth. “One could call it that.”

The image of Ling Ge roaming his hands over her on this very couch makes me nauseous. There’s no telling what else they’ve done here, and I know he’s got a taste for adventure. “You do know what sort of person he is, right?”

“Of course I do!” she bursts out. “I didn’t have a choice. He made me…” Shueqi’s eyes clamp shut. “It’s why I decided to help her. In exchange, Ling Ge will never be allowed to put his hands on me again.”

Her odd choice of words sets off the alarm bells in my head. “What do youuu, mooen….?”

Hey, what the heck? My tongue’s gone numb. I watch dumbly as the bottled water slips through my nerveless fingers, spilled water leaving dark stains on the carpet.

“Oups, I daedin’t…” I slump backwards into the sofa. Gosh it’s soft.

I can’t make out Shueqi’s face. I hear her talking, but the words slide off my consciousness like water off a duck’s back. Everything is starting to blend together, watercolour paint mixed with oil tossed across the canvas like vicious strokes of a mad painter’s brush.

I lose myself in the different shades of colour.

And then, nothing.