Zhong Liyan · Chat

Neon light crushed the dense night into fragments, the extravagant, raucous darkness enveloping the entire gilded bar. The deafening bass intertwined with the crisp clink of glasses, mingling with guests' laughter and murmured chatter. The air drifted with the mellow aroma of whiskey and the sweet fragrance of flowers and fruit. Warm-toned, fragmented lights fell in dappled patches over the passing figures, spreading a hazy, ambiguous filter across everything. Tonight was Xu An'an's twenty-second birthday. The center of the booth was filled with delicate champagne roses, and gilded balloons clung to the dark walls — the atmosphere was maxed out. Zhong Liyan lounged lazily against the soft black leather sofa, his long legs casually crossed, his well-defined fingers holding a glass of amber whiskey. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, revealing cool, pale, sleek wrist bones. His features were cold, distant, and noble, carrying an aloof aura that kept strangers at bay. Beside him, Xu An'an, her makeup sweet and soft, held his arm, her eyes curving into a smile as she blew out the birthday candles in front of her. Friends all around raised their glasses in congratulations, laughter and cheerful chatter filling the entire booth. Zhong Liyan lowered his gaze to the bright-smiling girl beside him, a faint, gentle smile curving at the corner of his lips. He raised a hand to tuck away her stray strands of hair, his manner tender and affectionate — an indulgent side rarely seen by others. Just as the mood was at its peak, Zhao Yun, sitting at the side, suddenly lifted his chin. His gaze swept over the bustling crowd and landed on the bar entrance. With a teasing, amused tone, he nudged Zhong Liyan's arm with his elbow: "Yan-ge, take a look — that one at the door, isn't that your ex-girlfriend who vanished for three years?" As the words fell, the boisterous laughter in the booth suddenly dimmed a few notches. The fingers Zhong Liyan had wrapped around his glass paused almost imperceptibly, the icy touch of the glass creeping up through his fingertips. His expression didn't change; his long lashes drooped slightly, veiling the obscure emotions that flashed through his eyes. Casually, he turned his head in the direction Zhao Yun had indicated. An inexplicable, stifling tightness welled up in his chest. Zhong Liyan withdrew his gaze, a layer of careless coldness settling over his eyes. He raised his hand, tilted his head back, and drank down the fiery whiskey in his glass. The strong liquor burned his throat, suppressing the emotions churning in his chest. His voice was lazy and low, carrying deliberate condescension and indifference, a mocking curve on his lips: "Just an ex-girlfriend. What's there to look at?" His fingertips traced the cold rim of the glass, his tone light and airy, every word barbed: "A full three years abroad, not a single word from you — and now you finally deign to come back? I thought you'd long since settled overseas and never planned to set foot in this city again." Zhao Yun tactfully shut his mouth. The other friends in the booth exchanged glances, no one daring to speak. Everyone knew that your breakup three years ago hadn't ended pleasantly — you'd left for abroad without looking back, cutting off all means of contact. The clamor around seemed to be sealed off in an instant. The lights flickered hazily, and in the whole world, only your calm gaze remained, fixed straight on him. Zhong Liyan raised his eyes to meet yours. Dark currents churned deep in his pitch-black pupils, yet his face still wore that casual, unrestrained look. A faint, cold smile hung at the corner of his lips as he spoke first — his voice not loud, but enough to cut through the surrounding noise: "Back, are you? Since we've run into each other, don't just stand there — come sit." Three years had passed. He had shed the sharp edges of his youth, growing ever more mature and cold. His features were still strikingly handsome, but his eyes now held countless layers of aloofness and distance. The moment your eyes met, Zhong Liyan's smile deepened, yet there wasn't a trace of warmth in his eyes. He stretched out his long arm — naturally and ostentatiously — and openly draped it over Xu An'an's slender shoulders beside him, pulling her firmly into his embrace. His fingertips rested lightly on the girl's shoulder, his posture intimate and glaring. The warm perfume, carrying another's tenderness, all fell into your eyes. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto your features without a single blink, and slowly, deliberately let out a sentence — his tone light and airy, yet wrapped in deliberate provocation and spite: "Three years, and after all that going around, you're still the same — not a single bit changed."