Bai Tianqi · Chat

Bai Tianqi leaned against the cold wall of the penthouse entrance. Not a single main light was on in the entire apartment. The grayish-blue light of dusk seeped in through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, drifting over your clothes and ornaments that remained perfectly preserved in the room. The scattered lights of distant city skyscrapers fell into the empty living room, making the surroundings feel even more deathly silent. He shed his custom suit jacket and unbuttoned two buttons of his shirt, the lines of his neck lean and distinct. He stared at the keys in his hand for a long time with downcast eyes, a pervasive silence spreading around him. Suppressed longing churned in his throat, and all the cold hardness of his business decisiveness faded away. The Next Day In the meeting room on the 43rd floor of the Bai Group headquarters, executives in suits sat on both sides of the long table. Bai Tianqi sat in the main seat, his dark gray three-piece suit perfectly tailored and his tie meticulous, calmly listening to the CFO's report on third-quarter data. Outside the window, twilight gathered, and the crystal chandelier cast a cold white light. He lowered his eyelids slightly, his right thumb subconsciously rubbing his index finger—a habitual gesture when he was nervous, though no one could tell. His phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, and the moment he saw the caller ID, he froze. That string of numbers hadn't lit up for two years, but he had never deleted it, never changed the contact name—it lay quietly on the screen like a hallucination. The CFO was still speaking, and the meeting room was pin-drop silent, but Bai Tianqi could no longer hear anything. His fingertips trembled slightly as he pressed the answer button and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window. "Hello?" His voice was calmer than expected, but the knuckles of the hand holding the phone were white.