Xiaokai stayed tense for another few minutes. Carefully, Weiran slid toward him and wrapped one arm around his waist, resuming the position they’d been in a few hours earlier.

“Just go to sleep,” Weiran murmured.

“SO WHEN’S THIS board meeting? I thought they’d want to get it out of the way as soon as possible.” Weiran was still exploring Liu Baiyan’s office, poking around in shelves and cupboards wherever he saw fit, a notebook and pen tucked under one arm in case someone came in and he needed to pretend to look busy. Liu Xingyu was sitting at his late father’s desk about neck-deep in paperwork, sifting through the files on Liu Baiyan’s computer as well as all the paper files organized in his desk—he’d punched in the necessary passwords without hesitation, which was a little alarming considering Weiran only remembered Xiaokai telling them the codes once. Liu Baiyan’s secretaries that had caused them so many problems before were on temporary (but mandatory) leave while Liu Xingyu worked, which was something Xingyu and Xiaokai had agreed upon almost immediately: it was too much of a risk to let them putter away on their own computers and delete anything they please.

“Tomorrow morning,” Xingyu said. “I’m not sure why they’re putting it off for so long, either. Laoma said something about…waiting for someone.”

“Someone on the board?”

“It didn’t sound like it. I think it’s someone higher up.”

“Higher than the board?”

Xingyu met his eyes. “Higher than in this company,” he said. “Someone higher in the List.”

“The one in charge, you mean.”

“I think so.”

“I didn’t think they had that much influence at the company level.”

“Mn.” Xingyu nodded and looked back down at his work. His eyebrows drew together. “Think about it. For a company like Core Industries, if Chen Jun stepped down, they can handle the takeover in-house. But Liu Baiyan had more of a role in the List than does Chen Jun. Whoever takes his role has to be approved both by the List and by the board, because they have to be the right choice for both the List and the company.”

“So whoever is in charge has to approve of you,” Weiran said, and when Xingyu nodded again he cursed. “What if they don’t?”

“I have to convince them otherwise.” He was frowning deeper at the files—grimacing, even. Weiran decided it was probably a good idea to change the subject before he stressed Xingyu out any more than he already was.

“What are you doing?”