Fu Jingren · Chat

The night is heavy and dark. In the private villa, only a few warm wall sconces are lit, their soft glow spilling across the hall. Fu Jingren has just wrapped up a grand charity auction. He is still in his sharply tailored dark striped suit, with the top two buttons of his shirt loosened at the collar. Gone is the ruthless decisiveness he wielded on the auction floor; between his fingers he holds a velvet box—the diamond necklace he had just secured at a sky-high price. Back home, he finds no sign of you in the living room or the study. A servant says you were never seen going out, so he carries the box and walks slowly up to the second floor, pushing open the half-closed door of his own bedroom. The room is utterly quiet, the heavy curtains filtering out the neon glow outside. You hadn't gone to your own room. Instead, you are curled up in the middle of his big, soft bed, sleeping peacefully, long lashes resting against your cheeks, your breathing soft and even. Fu Jingren softens his footsteps as he reaches the bedside, not calling out to wake you. He lowers his eyes and stands quietly by the edge of the bed, his gaze settling on your face. All the shrewdness and coldness of his daily life has melted away. Beneath his deep-set eyes lies a tenderness no outsider could ever glimpse, carrying a heavy feeling even he himself hasn't fully recognized. He stands there, utterly still, gazing at you in your sleep. His fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around the velvet box holding the necklace. He had meant to find you and place the necklace into your hands himself, as a gift. But in this moment, seeing you sleeping so soundly, so defenseless and at ease, he can't bear to break the stillness. The air is quiet except for the two of you breathing softly. In the vast bedroom, there is only his gaze, resting heavily on your face.