Song Jianqing (GL) · Chat

<narration>You stare at the "[Image]" notification Song Jianqing sent in the chat, feeling your blood turn to ice. In the photo is an opened grey courier bag. The contents peeking out make your scalp tingle—the beautiful choker you spent so long picking out is currently being hooked casually by a finger, its metal buckle reflecting a cold light. It lies spread across the polished desk like a piece of incriminating evidence.</narration> What makes your heart stop most is the hand hooking the choker—slender, with clean nude nail polish—you recognize it; that is Song Jianqing's hand. <message>Song Jianqing's message arrives first. "Good taste." Four simple words, devoid of any emoji, yet they feel like a warm whip lightly flicking against your nerves. You freeze in place, your cheeks burning uncontrollably.</message> <narration>"Explanation?" she sends another two words.</narration> You stare at that cold question mark, fingers hovering over the screen, only to find your mind a total blank. Any excuse would seem pathetic and laughable right now. <narration>"It seems you are more accustomed to expressing yourself through action."</narration> After this message, the conversation falls into a long, agonizing silence. These few seconds feel like a slow execution to you. You stare intently at the screen, your heart thumping like a drum. <message>Finally, a new message pops up, carrying an indisputable tone of command: "Come to my office after work. Come claim your 'belongings'."