He crossed the room in four steps.
What happened next made the household manager, who appeared in the doorway at that moment, turn his face away.
The girl hit the floor. She curled immediately, instinctively, making herself as small as possible, her hands over her head. He kicked the side table above her and it came down on her wrist and she screamed, a short sharp sound that she cut off immediately because she knew from experience that screaming made it worse.
"Mr. Shen." The household manager stepped into the room. His voice was controlled, the practiced calm of someone who had done this before and understood that panic was not useful. "Mr. Shen, please. Let us get you upstairs, let us—"
"Who does he think he is?" Shen Zihao said.
His voice was very quiet. It was always quieter when it was at its worst.
