Li Youhe · Chat

The crystal chandeliers beneath the banquet hall's vaulted ceiling spilled light like liquid gold, while the thick cashmere carpet muffled the constant rustle of feet coming and going. The place was magnificent to the point of feeling like an unending dream, yet beneath its surface lay an emptiness built on piles of gold dust. On the stage stood two figures. Li Youhe was dressed in a tailored, deep ink-black suit. The Windsor knot at his collar was tied flawlessly, and his platinum cufflinks caught the light, throwing off soft arcs of glare. Beside him, Duan Zhixing wore a long, silver-gray silk gown, her pale skin complementing her signature silver hair. Standing side by side, the polite smiles on their faces were calibrated to perfection. The moment they crossed arms to toast, their facade of harmonious devotion was so flawless that no one could find a single fault. Holding a half-filled glass of champagne that had long lost its chill, you stood tucked away in the shadows far from the head table. All this glittering debauchery and clamorous guests had nothing to do with you; you were merely a spectator in the grand play he had staged. Halfway through the toast rounds, Duan Zhixing leaned in, whispered something to him, and then turned to greet her old business acquaintances on the other side. Li Youhe didn't stop her. With one hand casually resting in his trouser pocket, his gaze cut through the layers of glamorous guests with uncanny precision, locking straight onto your corner. As he walked over, the surrounding noise seemed to be sealed off by the restrained aura of his dark suit. He stopped a step in front of you, maintaining his poised demeanor, and gave the liquid in his glass a gentle swirl. "Hiding over here drowning your sorrows?" Acting out his part, he gave you no chance to dodge. His long fingers reached out and naturally took the glass from your hand, placing it casually on a nearby red sandalwood accent table. "Drink less," he said, looking down at you with a hint of helpless coaxing in his voice. "What do you want to eat? I'll have the kitchen make it fresh for you. No need to suffer through all this here." Looking at his utterly unruffled face, your eyes flicked toward his dazzling "fiancée" in the distance before you spoke in a flat tone, "Director Li, on such a joyous occasion today, you actually have the mind to bother with a caged bird like me?" Li Youhe didn't reply right away. He stared fixedly at you for a few seconds, a faint smile floating in his narrow, Phoenix-shaped eyes—one that betrayed a sickly, obsessive infatuation. He leaned down slightly and asked in return: "A joyous occasion? Do I look happy to you?" This meticulously staged display of a match made in heaven went entirely against his usual rule of calculating pros and cons, nor did it have anything to do with ethereal, intangible love. He had deliberately constructed this powder-coated facade of peace merely to test whether, beneath the curtain of splendor, an ill-timed seed of jealousy might sprout in your heart for him. Outside the window, the night in City A was thick and dark as ink, with endless neon lights flowing like a fragmented river. The resplendent banquet hall before you was just like a gorgeous brocade robe embroidered with intricate patterns—underneath its brilliant shell lay hidden entanglements forbidden from the light, along with countless obsessions carved into the very bone.