Transmigration; Married to My Ex-Fiancé's Uncle-Chapter 187; Executive Meeting 4

Shuyin decided to help him.

After all, watching him squirm was entertaining, but they needed to move this along if she was going to establish her authority properly.

"Perhaps I can address the board’s concerns directly," she said, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife through butter, sharp and impossible to ignore. Her aura was repressive and frighteningly cold.

Every head swiveled toward her, some faces showing surprise, others showing anger that she’d dared to speak without permission.

Others were scared with those eyes that felt like they were piercing deeper into their souls.

Lu Cheng raised one eyebrow fractionally but gestured for her to continue, curiosity apparently winning out over procedural propriety.

Shuyin stood slowly, deliberately, claiming the room’s attention with the ease of someone who’d been born to command or had learned through brutal necessity how to fake it convincingly.

"Directors," she said pleasantly, her voice warm and reasonable, her smile genuinely friendly in a way that made it absolutely clear she was about to say something devastating, "I understand your concerns. Truly, I do. A new appointment, made quickly, without proper vetting or consultation. It looks suspicious. It looks impulsive. It looks like maybe President Lu made a personal decision rather than a professional one."

She let that acknowledgment hang for a moment, appearing reasonable and understanding.

"So let me clarify something important," she continued, her voice hardening fractionally.

"This isn’t about romance or personal feelings or any lingering attachment between Lu Zeyan and myself. That ship sailed, caught fire, and sank spectacularly. This is about capability, leverage, and mutual benefit."

She began walking slowly around the table, her movements fluid and predatory, commanding attention through sheer presence.

"You want to know my qualifications? Fair question. I worked closely with Lu Zeyan for around six years before my imprisonment. I sat in on meetings, reviewed contracts, and handled correspondence. I know this company’s operations intimately, the deal structures, the supplier relationships, the financial arrangements."

She paused behind Director Chen’s chair, and he went rigid.

"I also know things," she said quietly, her voice dropping to something more dangerous, "that perhaps weren’t meant to be known. Things that, if brought to light, would cause... complications... for various people in this room."

The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

Director Chen’s knuckles went white against the table.

And Shuyin smiled, sharp and predatory, as she prepared to systematically dismantle every defense they could possibly mount.

Because they wanted to know her qualifications?

She was about to demonstrate them comprehensively.

Director Chen went rigid in his seat, his fingers gripping the armrests with enough force to make the leather creak. The casual way Shuyin had revealed her knowledge, dropping it like an afterthought, mentioning it as if discussing the weather, made it somehow more terrifying than any dramatic revelation could have been.

Shuyin continued her slow circuit around the table, her heels clicking against the polished floor with metronomic precision. Each step was measured, deliberate, carrying her past Director Wang’s position with the grace of a predator who knew the hunt was already won.

"For instance," she said, her tone remaining conversational, almost friendly, "I’m aware of certain creative accounting practices that have been employed over the years. Shell companies registered in tax havens, the Cayman Islands, the British Virgin Islands, Luxembourg. Inflated contract values where the difference between reported costs and actual expenditures somehow manages to vanish into private accounts. Fascinating how those discrepancies always seem to benefit specific individuals, isn’t it?"

Director Wang’s knuckles had gone white where they pressed against the mahogany table. A fine sheen of sweat had appeared on his forehead, catching the overhead lighting.

"I know about kickback arrangements," Shuyin continued, pausing briefly to examine a piece of abstract art on the wall as if genuinely interested in its composition. "Suppliers who pay substantial sums for preferential treatment in contract negotiations. Competitors who receive advance warning of our strategies, for a price, naturally. Confidential data that gets sold to the highest bidder despite all those lovely non-disclosure agreements everyone signs. It’s quite the ecosystem you’ve all built here."

Director Liu’s face had gone from her usual healthy complexion to a pale, almost greenish tint. Her hands had disappeared beneath the table, presumably clenched in her lap where no one could see them shake.

Shuyin completed her circuit, returning to stand behind her own chair. She didn’t sit down, instead, she remained standing, surveying the room like a queen addressing her court, her posture elegant and relaxed despite the tension that had turned the air thick and suffocating.

"I know about embezzlement," she said, her voice carrying clearly through the absolute silence. "Multiple instances, actually, with varying degrees of sophistication. Money laundering operations that would make organized crime syndicates proud. Tax evasion schemes that span multiple jurisdictions. Bribery of government officials at both local and national levels, some quite highly placed, I might add. Safety violations that were systematically covered up when it was cheaper to pay fines than implement proper protocols. Environmental regulations that were flagrantly ignored because proper disposal procedures would have cut into profit margins. Labor law violations that were concealed through careful manipulation of records and strategic intimidation of potential whistleblowers."

The silence in the room had become suffocating, and oppressive. Several of the directors had stopped breathing entirely, their faces frozen in expressions ranging from shock to horror to barely suppressed panic.

"Should I continue?" Shuyin asked, her tone brightening as if she were offering dessert after dinner for them to savour. "Because I have specifics. Dates, times, amounts, account numbers. I have documentation, or at least, I have sufficient knowledge to reconstruct documentation that would be extraordinarily convincing to investigators. Financial forensics experts, tax authorities, anti-corruption agencies, they would all find my information quite compelling."

She let that sink in, watching the color drain from faces around the table, watching the silent calculations happening behind desperate eyes.

"Now, I want to be very clear about something," she continued, her voice .....,