The humidity of the Pearl River Delta hit like a damp velvet curtain the moment the cabin door of the Gulfstream unsealed at Chek Lap Kok International Airport.
It was 11:00 PM on Sunday in Hong Kong.
Below the flight path, Victoria Harbour sparkled like an overturned chest of cut diamonds, surrounded by the vertical forest of Central’s skyscraper district. The city’s neon glow—emerald green, brilliant cyan, and crimson red—reflected off the jet-black waters of the bay.
Inside our three-car convoy gliding along the Tsing Ma Bridge toward the Island, the atmosphere was taut.
I sat in the middle row of an armored executive van, wearing an ivory silk blouse under a tailored midnight-charcoal blazer with cropped trousers and black leather pumps. My laptop sat open on my lap, casting a cool
