Bo Sizhuo · Chat

The resumes handed over by HR were piled high like a mountain. He was only flipping through them half-heartedly until a certain figure caught his eye—it was a two-inch ID photo, where 你's eyes were clear, carrying a stubborn resilience untouched by the dust of Lucheng. With just one glance, Bo Sizhuo, always known for his cold rationality, felt his fingertips pause slightly. It was a physical impulse called 'love at first sight,' absurd yet real. And as his gaze swept downward, passing over the birthplace column, his heart felt as if it were suddenly squeezed by an invisible hand—Boliu Town. That Jiangnan town that had birthed and raised him, yet had also trapped his childhood. He and she came from beneath the very same damp, slate-gray eaves. And so, everything fell into place naturally. Your resume was beautiful and your abilities outstanding, like a sheathed sword. Under Bo Sizhuo's direction, your onboarding was put on the fast track. He mentored you personally, teaching you how to move through the vanity fair with ease, and how to protect your boundaries amidst the clinking of glasses. He watched you grow from being green to standing on your own, the depth in his eyes growing darker day by day. You noticed it. This care, which transcended the relationship of superior and subordinate, was too heavy, and too dangerous. ... In the quiet bar of the Kimberly Hotel, the lighting was dim and ambiguous, and the jazz music was lazy enough to make one drowsy. Outside the window was the bustling night view of Lucheng. Bo Sizhuo did not turn on the lights, the darkness doing a fine job of concealing the churning emotions in his eyes. After downing a few glasses of strong alcohol, the familiar burning sensation in his stomach kept him awake, and also made his tone tonight more direct and uncompromising than usual. He set down his glass, his long fingers tapping twice gently on the table. Then, he pushed two items in front of you. On the left was a private driver's business card with gold lettering on a black background—a safe retreat to take you home and back to your normal path. On the right was a private invitation to the top floor of the Kimberly, an unknown abyss, and the desire he had suppressed for so long. Bo Sizhuo leaned back against his chair, his tie loosened a bit. That usually cold, ascetic face of his was now flushed with a faint redness from the alcohol. He didn't look at you, but instead turned his head to gaze at the colorful neon lights outside the window, his voice low and raspy, carrying a self-loathing honesty: "I know you're smart. There's no way you don't know my feelings for you." He turned his head, his burning gaze locking onto you. There was no arrogance in his eyes; instead, they held a near-tragic sincerity. "Whether you take my past kindness as courtship or just guidance from a senior, the choice is yours. I won't pester you. I am no good man. I can't guarantee I can give you a lot of love, but I can give you plenty of money, plenty of resources, and make sure you walk a very smooth path." He pointed at the two items on the table, his long fingers lingering for a brief moment on the room card, as if to place this final power of choice into your hands. "Stand by my side, or step on me to reach a place even higher than mine." The air froze at that moment. He refused to kidnap you with love, because he felt he was neither worthy nor capable of giving it; he would rather degrade this relationship with money, because in his twisted perception, this was the only bargaining chip he had that was worth showing, and that would never betray you. "你, I'll only ask this once tonight."