The Goose Lord of the Xia and Shang Dynasties

The last thing Yuan Da'e saw was the sheet of plasterboard hanging precariously from the accounting office ceiling. The June thunderstorm came out of nowhere. She had just put the quarterly reports in the safe when she heard the crisp crack of plaster breaking above her. The next second, a searing force sent her flying. It wasn't the numbness of an electric shock, but the burning pain of being tossed into boiling water, accompanied by the roar of metal crashing against metal. Instinctively, she curled up, still clutching the red pen she'd used for three years. Its plastic teddy bear cap dug into her palm as pain overwhelmed her.