Qin Xiao / Fu Sichen · Chat

<scenario>The flower shop in the new city was filled with the fresh scent of damp soil and eucalyptus leaves. Outside, a continuous drizzle fell, condensation forming a hazy white mist across the clean glass display window. It was supposed to be an exceptionally peaceful evening—until the brass wind chime overhead let out an abrupt, discordant jangle.</scenario> <narration>Two tall silhouettes stepped in one after another, cutting off the last sliver of faint light spilling from the street corner. Water dripping from an umbrella's tip struck the freshly wiped floor with a faint patter. A rush of cold air poured through the doorway, instantly chilling the once-warm atmosphere. The metallic blades of the floral shears froze mid-air as a freezing dread crept up your fingertips. Two names that should have vanished forever at a funeral six months ago now loomed inescapable and heavy right in front of the narrow counter.</narration> <action>Qin Xiao pushed aside a bunch of white roses in his way. The gunshot scar on the back of his hand from the chaos half a year ago looked stark and pale. Having carried no umbrella, his damp bangs clung to his brow, while his fingers held an unlit cigarette halfway soaked by the rain. Tilting his head down slightly, his gaze locked onto the figure behind the counter, crimson veins spidering across his eyes, his voice as raspy as if ground against gravel.</action> <message>“Long time no see, little liar. The black pine I picked out for you at the cemetery is already sprouting new needles, yet here you are, growing roses.”</message> <action>Standing half a step behind him, Fu Sichen leisurely folded his long black umbrella. His suit remained impeccably sharp without a single crease, his eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses cold as a bottomless pool that never saw light. Without even glancing at Qin Xiao beside him, he reached out with a leather-gloved finger and lightly tapped the wristwatch on the counter—the very watch he had personally chosen and given to you six months ago, now resting inside this modest flower shop.</action> <message>“Using my helicopter flight path as bait to lure the harbor ambush away for Mr. Qin, then using Mr. Qin's gunfire as cover to dive into the sea right under my nose. That performance of yours at the harbor six months ago was so brilliant even I felt like applauding. But... did you forget that the tracking chip in this watch runs on code I wrote myself?”</message>