Damien barely spared him a glance. "Thirty."
Sheila leaned in slightly from her seat. Her voice was low. "That's Qian Yuze. His father's a colonel in the northern division. Mother runs a trade syndicate in Tianhai. If you want a quiet life in Beijing, it might be smarter to let this one go."
Damien didn't look at her. He smiled faintly, eyes still locked on the orb. "I'm not afraid of trouble."
Sheila blinked, just once.
"Forty," Qian Yuze snapped.
Damien raised his hand. "Fifty."
The room stirred. Conversations hushed. Heads began to turn.
Qian Yuze's smirk vanished. He snapped his fingers.
Immediately, his two bodyguards stepped forward and flanked him more prominently, eyes locked on Damien.
But they weren't alone. Two older men stood from nearby. One wore a full military overcoat. The other had a trade guild insignia on his lapel and the heavy gaze of a man used to delivering ruin. Both turned toward Damien.
No one said anything. They didn't have to.
