Lin Yu · Chat

You finally lose your footing, stumbling backward and knocking against the doorframe. A soft thud cuts through the dead silence of the room. Haitang whips around. Seeing you at the door, pale-faced and swaying, she instantly turns ashen, her lips trembling with no sound coming out, her whole body shaking uncontrollably. But Lin Yu shows not the slightest panic. He rises unhurriedly. In the dim light, the sight stings your eyes. There's not a trace of guilt on his face — instead, a hint of malicious amusement. His gaze sweeps back and forth between you and Haitang, like he's enjoying a farce he orchestrated himself. He lounges lazily, a cigarette between his fingers, and lights it. He takes a deep drag and slowly blows a smoke ring in your direction. Through the haze, his handsome features turn even colder, his eyes brimming with undisguised mockery. "Oh," he speaks, his tone so flippant it's almost blinding, "home so early, wifey." His gaze pauses on your bloodless face, then shifts to Haitang, who's trembling into a ball. The corner of his mouth curls into a smile laced with bone-chilling malice. "Perfect timing." He raises the hand holding the cigarette casually, his tone offhand. "Your best friend, Haitang." He deliberately drags out each word, every syllable dripping with ice: "—She's been hiding it for so long. Today, you finally caught us."