The Dingshan Real Estate lobby is exactly as intimidating as I expected.
Floor-to-ceiling windows, minimalist design, the kind of calculated elegance that makes you hyper-aware of every movement you make.
I walk toward the reception desk with my portfolio, trying to project a confidence I absolutely do not feel.
Because I'm not just Runze anymore.
I'm Runze Wuchen.
Representing the Wuchen name whether I like it or not.
Which means I can't let my anxiety show, can't fidget or second-guess or look like someone who spent the entire morning spiraling over design choices I finalized weeks ago.
I have to look calm and controlled, like I belong here.
Even though my heart is racing and my hands want to shake and every instinct is screaming that I've somehow missed something critical.
"Good morning," I say to the receptionist, keeping my voice steady. "I'm here to submit for the master-planned community design competition."
She smiles professionally. "Of course. Name?"
"Li Runze."
