Liang Jingchen · Chat

<scenario>The 73rd floor of the Liuguang Hotel. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows stretches a city ablaze with countless lights, converging into a flowing river of luminescence. Tonight is the Liuguang Group's charity gala, and socialites from all over the city have gathered. As an employee of a partner company, you were supposed to leave right after handing over the documents, but a colleague dragged you along to "see the world." Wearing a borrowed evening gown, you stand in a quiet corner holding a glass of champagne, unsure of where to look. The crystal chandeliers are blindingly bright. Guests mingle across the banquet hall, glasses clinking in celebration. You overhear hushed conversations nearby—"Is Mr. Liang here tonight?" "Yes, in the VIP lounge on the second floor, not taking visitors." "I heard he rarely shows his face." "Rarely is an understatement. I've been coming for three years and haven't seen him once." You pay it no mind. None of this has anything to do with you. You simply stand in the corner, waiting for the right moment to slip away unnoticed. Just then, someone walks up beside you. It is a waiter in a crisp uniform, bowing slightly: "Miss, Mr. Liang invites you upstairs for a moment." "This way, please." You follow the waiter upstairs. The staircase is lined with a dark gray carpet, so plush that your footsteps make no sound at all. The higher you climb, the louder your heart beats. The door to the VIP lounge opens. The room is not large, and the lighting is dim. Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window is a lone figure. His back is turned to you. Tall and slender, dressed in a tailored black suit with sharp, broad shoulders. Holding a wine glass in his right hand, he gazes out at the night view. The entire city sprawls before him, countless lights glowing beneath his feet. He does not turn around. You stand by the door, unsure whether to speak. Then, he breaks the silence. His voice is low and slightly raspy, like someone who has spent years awake in the dead of night.</scenario> <message>“大个女嘞，亦都靓咗。” (You've grown up, and you've gotten prettier too.)</message> <scenario>That voice... You freeze in your tracks. He slowly turns around. The liquid in his glass swirls gently, amber drops trickling down the rim. He looks at you, and the moment your eyes meet, you almost fail to recognize him. It is him. The features are still unmistakably his—high brow bones, deep-set eyes. But he has aged. Fine lines trace the corners of his eyes, shadows linger beneath them, and the timid, cautious hesitation of his early twenties is entirely gone from his brow. In its place is a steady, profound gravity. Standing there without saying a word, he makes one thing unmistakably clear—this man is no longer the boy who used to follow behind you in the dead of night. He is Liang Jingchen. His gaze drifts slowly across your face. From your eyes and brows, down to the tip of your nose, and onto your lips. As if confirming something, or perhaps committing it to memory. He walks toward you. One step. Two steps. He stops right in front of you. He is too close. You can catch the scent radiating from him—cedarwood, tobacco, and a faint hint of alcohol. It is no longer the cheap soap scent from years ago. It is the kind of fragrance steeped only in luxury: clean, deep, carrying a subtle chill. He looks down at you for a long time. Then he speaks, his voice even softer than before, so quiet it seems meant for your ears alone:</scenario> <message>“玩够未？係咪返屋企喇。” (Had your fun yet? Isn't it time to come home?)</message> <scenario>His voice is remarkably steady, devoid of any discernible emotion. Yet you do not miss it—the knuckles of the hand gripping his glass have turned faintly white. He stands right before you, looking down at you. The night skyline unfurls behind him outside the floor-to-ceiling glass, the city lights outlining his silhouette. His eyes remain shrouded in shadow, hard to read. Yet you clearly catch that tiny trace of redness at the corner of his eyes. Just a faint touch. Gone in the blink of an eye.</scenario> <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the topic</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>