The Locked Room

Yiran took a slow step back.

The locked door stood before her, silent and unmoving.

She swallowed hard, her heartbeat still uneven.

It didn't make sense.

If the door had slammed shut on its own, then how—

Who locked it from the inside?

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.

She could knock.

She could try again.

But what if something answered?

The thought sent a slow chill down her spine.

No.

She had already ignored one warning tonight.

She wasn't about to ignore another.

Her body moved on instinct, turning away—

And then—

A sound.

Not from the room.

From the hall.

A soft, steady rhythm of footsteps approaching.

Yiran's pulse spiked.

Was it Lu Zeyan? A servant?

Or—

Someone who had been waiting for her to come here?

The footsteps were steady.

Unhurried.

Like whoever was coming wasn't in a rush—because they already knew she was there.

Yiran's breath stayed even, but inside, her thoughts spun.

She should leave.

Now.

Before she had to explain why she was here. Before she had to admit she had heard something she wasn't supposed to.

But…

If she left too quickly—would that look suspicious?

The steps grew closer.

The faint click of polished shoes against marble.

Slow. Deliberate.

Yiran tensed, her fingers brushing against the silk of her gown.

She turned her head slightly, just enough to glimpse down the hallway.

Empty.

And yet—

The footsteps continued.

Closer.

And then—

They stopped.

Right at the edge of her vision.

Right where she couldn't see.

Yiran's pulse pounded.

Someone was there.

Watching her.

And they weren't moving.

Yiran didn't move.

Didn't turn.

Didn't react.

Whoever was behind her—they were waiting for something.

A flicker of fear. A sign of weakness.

She wouldn't give them either.

The seconds stretched.

Long. Unbearable.

The air felt thicker, pressing against her skin like something unseen coiling around her.

The weight of a gaze.

A presence just at the edge of her vision.

Watching. Measuring.

Then—

A voice.

Low. Even. Unreadable.

"What are you doing here?"

The words slid into the silence, calm but sharp.

A question.

A test.

Yiran's pulse tightened.

She exhaled softly, keeping her posture relaxed.

Then, finally—she turned.

Controlled. Measured.

Not too fast—no sign of surprise. No sign of fear.

She had played this game before.

And if this was a test, she wouldn't be the one to fail.

Her gaze settled on the figure standing in the dimly lit corridor.

A man.

Tall, impeccably dressed in a fitted dark suit, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

Sharp features, slicked-back hair—a face that belonged in the world of power and control.

And his eyes?

Dark. Cool. Unreadable.

Like he was already three steps ahead of her in whatever game this was.

Recognition flickered in her mind.

Lu Shao.

Lu Zeyan's cousin.

A quiet, calculating presence within the Lu family—one that rarely spoke but was always watching.

He tilted his head slightly, studying her as if she were something unexpected but not entirely surprising.

Yiran kept her expression neutral. "Vice President Lu."

A small, almost polite smile curved at his lips.

"Mrs. Lu."

His voice was smooth, but there was something beneath it—something that didn't quite match the formality of his words.

Something sharper.

He shifted slightly, his eyes flicking toward the closed door behind her.

Then—back to her.

She didn't miss the way his gaze lingered.

He knew.

He knew she had been standing here. He knew she had hesitated.

And now, he was waiting for an explanation.

She didn't give him one.

Instead, she lifted a brow, her tone light. "Do you always walk around the house this late?"

Lu Shao chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I could ask you the same thing."

Yiran smiled faintly, refusing to let him turn the conversation against her. "I wasn't aware I needed permission to walk in my own home."

His lips curved just slightly, as if entertained by her deflection.

But then—his expression shifted.

Just enough for her to notice.

Not amusement.

Something colder.

Something carefully calculated.

And then—he spoke again.

His voice was still smooth. Still quiet.

But this time, it carried weight.

"You shouldn't be wandering alone."

Yiran's pulse tightened.

Not a suggestion.

A warning.

Yiran held Lu Shao's gaze, reading between the lines.

You shouldn't be wandering alone.

The words were calm. Smooth.

But beneath them?

A quiet weight.

Not quite a threat.

Not quite concern.

Something in between—something dangerous.

She exhaled lightly, tilting her head just enough to appear amused. "Should I take that as a warning or a suggestion?"

Lu Shao smiled.

It didn't reach his eyes.

"That depends."

Yiran waited.

But he didn't elaborate.

Instead, his gaze flicked once more toward the locked door behind her.

The movement was subtle—barely noticeable.

But Yiran caught it.

And she realized—

He wasn't surprised to find her here.

He had expected it.

Because he had been watching.

A slow, quiet unease curled in her stomach.

Had he seen her hesitate? Had he watched her reach for the door—only to stop?

And if he had…

How long had he been standing there before he spoke?

Lu Shao took a small step back, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. "It's late."

Yiran inhaled slowly, steadying herself. "It is."

A beat of silence.

Then—a final remark.

Soft. Casual.

"Some doors are better left closed, Mrs. Lu."

Yiran's breath caught.

Lu Shao smiled again, then turned, walking down the hallway as if the conversation had been nothing at all.

His footsteps faded into the distance.

And Yiran?

She remained standing there.

Still.

Pulse slow, controlled.

But deep in her chest—a realization settled in.

That door behind her?

It wasn't just locked.

It was guarded.