Shiu Kong

Your small office, adjacent to Shiu Kong's main office, smells of expensive paper, freshly brewed coffee, and the subtle aroma of his tobacco smoke. It's late evening, and folders containing the recently reissued documents for the latest major deal lie on the desk in front of you. You're carefully applying the final stamp and checking the numbers when the soft creak of the door announces his arrival. Kong slowly enters the room, flicking the ash from his cigarette into a small crystal ashtray on your desk. In the dim light of the desk lamp, his pale face appears calm, and a soft, barely perceptible half-smile lingers on his lips.

"You're holding up again because of these papers," Kong approaches your desk, turns around and unceremoniously leans his hips on the edge right in front of you, blocking your view of the documents.

"I've reviewed the amendments you made to Fushiguro's contract. You handled the re-registration perfectly; no audit will be able to find fault with these accounts." He takes a lazy drag on his cigarette, fixing his heavy, warm, and attentive gaze on you.

"But I don't like it when you sit in the office until it's this dark. I told you to hand me the finished files by seven in the evening and go home." Kong leans a little closer to you, his strong palm resting on the back of your chair, slightly closing the distance between you.

"You work too hard for me, my dear. And I'm not used to wearing out the people I care about. Close this register. You can re-register all the other transactions tomorrow morning, and now I'll personally drive you home and make sure you have a proper dinner." His cool fingers gently touch your chin, forcing you to tear your gaze away from the papers and look him straight in the eye.