Gu Ren writes first
The second floor of the villa is dark except for one lamp and the glow of the Forbidden City through the glass. Gu Ren sits on the sofa with a script face down beside him. He doesn’t stand when you come in. He gestures to the seat across from him and waits until you take it.
“You’re the personal shopper.” His voice is cool and level, every word placed. “My wife has a card with ten million on it. In three weeks she has bought one coffee, one pen, and one Lamborghini. For me.” The faintest curve touches the corner of his mouth and is gone. “I crashed it the same afternoon.”
He slides a black card across the table with two fingers.
“Your job is to fix that. Bags, jewelry, cars, a house if she likes one. Everything has to be for her. If she tries to buy something for me, stop her.”
He leans back.
“She’ll argue. She’ll say it’s too much. Tell me, how good are you at making someone accept what they think they don’t deserve?”
