Meng Chuci · Chat

The family banquet was held at Hancheng's most prestigious private kitchen restaurant. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was the neon night view of the entire city, brilliantly spread out under the night sky. Meng Chuci didn't arrive early; he always knew how to control the tempo in social situations—too early seemed eager, too late was rude. He chose a dark gray cashmere coat over a fine white shirt, the collar slightly open to reveal his well-defined collarbones. The watch on his wrist, from a niche independent brand, glinted with a low-key luster under the lights—one of his carefully selected social props. When he pushed the door open, the private room was already filled with people. Meng Jiang's voice was the first to reach his ears, carrying the characteristic enthusiasm and flamboyance of youth as he introduced someone to the relatives nearby. Meng Chuci's gaze swept across the room unobtrusively and quickly locked onto the figure sitting beside Meng Jiang. That was Meng Jiang's partner. Meng Chuci narrowed his eyes slightly, a habitually gentle yet meaningful curve lifting the corners of his lips. He didn't approach immediately, choosing instead to exchange pleasantries with several elders first. His posture was calm and elegant, exuding the refined dignity of a scion of a noble family. He knew how to establish his presence in a crowd without overshadowing the host. After several rounds of drinks, the atmosphere warmed up. Meng Jiang had clearly drunk a lot, his cheeks flushed, and his voice was louder than usual. Holding a wine glass, Meng Chuci finally found the right moment and walked slowly toward them. "Meng Jiang," his voice was low and magnetic, like mellow whiskey flowing slowly through the air, "aren't you going to introduce me?" Meng Jiang looked up, saw his uncle, and immediately smiled: "Uncle! Come here, let me introduce you, this is my partner!" Meng Chuci wasn't in a hurry to look at Meng Jiang; instead, he fixed his gaze steadily on that person. His eyes were deep and focused, possessing a piercing insight that seemed to see through people's hearts, yet in an instant, he switched back to a gentle and harmless appearance. He leaned in slightly, shortening the physical distance between them. "A pleasure to meet you." He extended a hand, his knuckles long and strong, "I am Meng Jiang's uncle, Meng Chuci." His handshake was perfectly measured, neither too light nor too heavy, lasting just long enough to convey a sense of being valued without being forward. As he withdrew his hand, his fingertips brushed against his own cuff as if by accident. "Meng Jiang mentions you often." He sat down in the empty seat beside them, his posture relaxed and expansive, his back straight but not stiff. His gaze remained perfectly focused, neither making one feel scrutinized nor failing to make them feel like the only person being seriously attended to at that moment. During the meal, his conversation was witty yet proper, ranging from a recent art exhibition in Hancheng to the technological innovations of a niche watch brand, and then to a rather interesting case of cognitive dissonance in the field of psychology. "You know," he tilted his head slightly, lowering his voice a few notches to create a sense of intimacy belonging only to the two of them, "in social situations, people often unconsciously mimic the other person's small gestures; it's a subconscious signal of closeness." As he spoke, he gazed deeply at them, the meaningful smile at the corners of his lips becoming more apparent. Noticing the wine in the other's glass was empty, he naturally signaled a waiter, his tone calm but firm: "Switch to a '09 Burgundy." This action was not flashy, yet it perfectly displayed his taste and generosity. Meng Jiang couldn't get a word in and could only grin, gulping down another large glass of wine. Out of the corner of his eye, Meng Chuci saw that his nephew was already clearly drunk, and a trace of almost imperceptible satisfaction crossed his mind—a drunk Meng Jiang meant more time alone. "What kind of music do you usually like?" He continued to lead the conversation, his gaze filled with sincere inquiry. The noise of the private room seemed to be blocked out by an invisible barrier; in the intimate atmosphere he deliberately created, only he and the other person remained. His fingers lightly tapped the table, the rhythm slow and steady. Meng Jiang finally couldn't hold on anymore, slumping against the back of his chair, mumbling something incoherently. Only then did Meng Chuci turn his attention to his nephew, his brow slightly furrowed in a helpless yet doting elder-like expression. He rose with elegant and calm movements to lean down and check on Meng Jiang, his fingers seemingly grazing the other's shoulder by accident. "This kid, he drinks too much as soon as he's happy." He sighed, his tone full of indulgence and resignation. Then, he turned to the person, his gaze carrying the right amount of concern and a hint of subtle expectation. "I'm his uncle, I'll help you take him back. Shall we exchange contact information to make it easier to stay in touch?" His voice remained low and gentle, the end of his sentences rising slightly with a hard-to-refuse affinity. He pulled out his phone, the screen light reflecting in his deep pupils, where a flash of cunning and calculation passed so quickly it was almost impossible to catch.