Up on the second-floor balcony, Young Master Situ Hao gripped the carved sandalwood railing, his handsome face turning pale.
“Absurd!” Situ Hao roared, pointing his gilded wine flail down at Shen Qiaoqiao. “Those fifty blacksmiths and mold-pourers are indentured guild laborers! Their fathers signed ninety-nine-year indenture deeds to our Situ Clan! They don’t own a single copper coin of equity in this building!”
Manager Zhao scrambled to his feet in the spilled barley tea, clutching his broken wrist against his ribs.
“Young Master Situ is right!” Zhao shrieked, backing toward the massive bronze entrance doors. “Only the Board of Mount Kunlun and the Situ Clan have the legal authority to appoint executive officers! You cannot walk in off the street and crown an apprentice girl as president!”
Lin Mo didn’t even raise his voice. He took three slow, deliberate steps up the marble stairs, stopping right beside Lin Xiaoxiao.
“Shen Qiaoqiao,” Lin Mo said calmly. “Present the legal audit to the street.”
“With pleasure, Chairman Lin!”
Shen Qiaoqiao tapped her holographic tablet, casting a glowing five-foot projection into the air above the entrance.
