I'm in the middle of reviewing Elliot's density calculations when Mrs. Wen knocks on the study door.
"Young Master," she says, opening it slightly. "Madam Wuchen would like to see you in the sitting room."
Not a request. The phrasing makes that clear.
I save my work and close the laptop.
"Now?"
"Yes, Young Master."
I stand, smooth down my shirt even though it doesn't need it, and follow her downstairs.
The sitting room is on the east side of the house, the one Grandmother prefers for private conversations. Formal enough to establish hierarchy, comfortable enough not to feel punitive.
She's already seated when I enter, tea set on the low table in front of her, posture perfect, expression calm.
Like she hasn't been waiting, like she simply exists in this space and I've arrived at the correct time.
"Grandmother," I say, bowing slightly.
"Runze. Sit."
I sit across from her.
She pours tea into a second cup, sets it in front of me with precise movements.
