He picked up a financial tablet, his focus apparently shifting, but his presence was a constant, anchoring force in the room.
Tang Fei, meanwhile, had settled herself directly on the plush, silver-gray carpet, surrounded by a semi-circle of glowing laptops and scattered folders. She was the picture of modern, focused creativity, her brow furrowed in concentration as she cross-referenced data streams, utterly absorbed in her world.
For a while, the only sounds were the soft tapping of laptop keypads, the hum of the computers, and the quiet rhythm of their breathing, a deceptive portrait of domestic harmony.
This quiet atmosphere was broken by the door opening again. Huo Wu entered, his steps precise. He paused, taking in the scene: the feared President Huo observing from his throne-like chair, and his wife, the formidable Madam Tang, ruling her digital kingdom from the floor.
