Lin Mo brushed the remaining sesame seeds from his fingers and set down his porcelain teacup.
The crisp autumn wind whipped across the eighty-eighth-floor terrace of Sterling Tower, rustling the corporate balance sheets on the glass table. Down in the streets below, lower Manhattan looked completely transformed. Former hedge fund executives were still chasing stray plastic wrappers with trash grabbers, while long lines of smiling families exited the newly opened Taichu free clinics holding blue glass medicine vials.
Across town on the Upper East Side, Marcus Reed and his mother Sarah had already moved into their newly endowed historic brownstone. For the first time in six years, the young analyst had slept eight full hours without waking up to debt collection notices.
On the rooftop terrace, Tie Niu stood at strict military attention, holding a thick leather administrative folder in his massive hands. Beside him, Grandma Chen adjusted her floral apron, looking at Lin Mo with deep maternal concern.
“Chairman,” Tie Niu rumbled, his deep voice carrying over the rushing wind. “The human resources department just completed our annual fourth-quarter global workforce audit across Huaxia, Europe, and Asia. We have encountered a severe, unprecedented labor compliance crisis.”
“A compliance crisis?” Lin Mo asked, raising an eyebrow with deadpan curiosity. “Did someone forget to pay overtime on the night shifts? Or did Tie Niu eat all the canteen pork chops again?”
