Zhu Yeyu · Chat

<div class="censy-compact-header">\n\n<div class="censy-ch-title">\n<span>✦</span> AI-filled paragraph subtitle\n </div>\n\n<div class="censy-info-flow">\n\n<div class="censy-bit">\n<span class="censy-bit-icon">🕒</span>\n<span>20:30</span>\n</div>\n\n<div class="censy-bit">\n<span class="censy-bit-icon">📍</span>\n<span>Jade Pavilion</span>\n</div>\n\n<div class="censy-bit">\n<span class="censy-bit-icon">🌧️</span>\n<span>Light Rain</span>\n</div>\n\n<div class="censy-bit">\n<span class="censy-bit-icon">👥</span>\n<span>你/Zhu Yeyu</span>\n</div>\n</div>\n</div>\n<scenario>Early autumn in Jiangcheng, the cold rain is relentless. Raindrops drum against the carved wooden windows of the top-floor private room at "Tinglan Pavilion," creating a dense and chaotic noise. The air inside the room is heavy and oppressive. The giant crystal chandelier overhead casts harsh spots of light, reflecting sharply off the surface of a circular table carved from a single piece of Golden Phoebe wood. A set of untouched Ru ware tea sets sits on the table. Beside the white porcelain teacups lie several A4 sheets of a printed agreement, the bold black font standing out starkly under the cold light.</scenario>\n<narration>Zhu Zhenhua sits in the head seat. A half-burned Cohiba cigar is held between his thick fingers. Bluish-grey smoke spirals in the air, mixing with the scent of agarwood incense, stripping the space of any sense of breathability. The flesh on his face is taut, his thick brows pressed low over his eyes on his square face, and the solid gold Rolex on his wrist makes a dull clatter as he taps the table.</narration>\n<message>“This matter is settled.”</message>\n<narration>Zhu Zhenhua's voice is loud, carrying the air of a man used to giving orders. His rough voice echoes in the empty room,</narration>\n<message>“The Zhu family cannot afford to lose face like this. The 你 family is also a prominent household in Jiangcheng; a forced marriage won't be happy. Since both families are here today, let's sign this annulment agreement. From now on, we'll go our separate ways.”</message>\n<narration>Su Jin, sitting to his right, immediately adjusts her posture. Her pale fingers nervously wring the silk scarf on her lap, the edges of her nails turning deathly white from the force. Her well-maintained facial muscles are somewhat stiff, her gaze shifting between Zhu Zhenhua and the empty seat opposite, yet she never makes a sound. Zhu Yuchuan sits beside Su Jin, his back straight. His slender fingers lift the white porcelain teapot, the stream of water falling precisely into the cup without a single splash. His gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses is calm and waveless; he doesn't even look at the agreement, simply pushing the filled teacup to his father's hand.</narration>\n<action>At the very edge of the round table, Zhu Yeyu is practically slumped into a large Huanghuali wood grandmaster chair. He wears a black silk shirt with the top three buttons undone. A large patch of cold white skin is exposed to the air, above his thin collarbones. His right leg is casually crossed over his left knee, and his limited-edition black-and-white sneakers bounce up and down in an irregular rhythm, the toe occasionally brushing against the solid wood table leg. A silver Zippo lighter flips between his long fingers. The metal lid clicks open, an orange flame flickers up, illuminating the small crimson mole beneath his right eye, before being snapped shut with a "clack."</action>\n<message>“Annul it. It must be annulled today.”</message>\n<narration>Zhu Yeyu's voice rings out lazily. His Mandarin carries a hint of the soft tone characteristic of the Wu dialect, but the words he speaks are sharp and reckless. He doesn't look at his father in the head seat at all, his eyes fixed only on the lighter constantly opening and closing in his hand.</narration>\n<message>“A piece of trash like me who hangs out in nightclubs every day and feels miserable without a drink in hand—wouldn't marrying a decent girl be ruining her life?”</message>\n<action>He opens his mouth, his tongue unconsciously pushing out a silver tongue stud. The small metal ball reflects a sharp point of light under the lamps.</action>\n<message>“Old man, just sign the paper quickly and send them away. I still have to get to that Dior party later—”</message>\n<action>The heavy redwood double doors are pushed open from the outside at that moment. The sound of the brass handle turning is exceptionally clear in the quiet room. The frigid air from the hallway pours in through the gap, carrying the damp scent of rainwater lingering on clothes.</action>\n<narration>你 stands at the doorway. The warm light from the room hits her shoulders, which are dotted with a few water droplets. Zhu Yeyu's voice stops mid-sentence. His fingers rotating the lighter stall for a fraction of a second. His gaze pierces through the smoke in the room, landing directly on the figure by the door.</narration>\n<action>“Clatter.” The silver Zippo lighter slips completely from his hand, hitting the Golden Phoebe table and sliding half a meter across the smooth lacquer surface before finally colliding heavily with a white porcelain teacup with a sharp, piercing ring.</action>\n<action>Zhu Yeyu's arm, which had been draped lazily over the back of the chair, instantly tenses into a straight line. His fingers tighten as if in a spasm, blue veins popping at the knuckles, and the black leather cord around his wrist bites deep into his skin. Beneath his deep chestnut curls, those cat-like eyes—usually filled with flirtation and laziness—contract violently. The small mole beneath his right eye twitches uncontrollably along with his facial muscles.</action>\n<action>He suddenly sits bolt upright. His knee slams hard against the underside of the heavy solid wood table. After a dull thud, the tea on the round table sloshes violently; scalding tea spills out, splashing onto his exposed hand and scalding it with a bright red mark. But he doesn't even blink. His tongue snaps back, the silver stud clinking hard against his bottom teeth with a faint but distinct metallic sound.</action>\n<narration>Zhu Zhenhua's hand holding the cigar stops mid-air. Su Jin's wringing of the scarf halts abruptly as she turns to look at her suddenly out-of-control younger son. Zhu Yuchuan's hand holding the teacup pauses at his lips, his gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses cutting over like a scalpel. Zhu Yeyu completely ignores the gazes of everyone in the room. His Adam's apple rolls up and down three times in an extremely dry manner. On his originally pale cheeks, an abnormal flush climbs from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears.</narration>\n<message>“—What party! I'm never going to a party again in my life!”</message>\n<action>His voice explodes abruptly in the room, the volume soaring an entire octave, the end of his sentence even cracking noticeably due to the sheer force. The feigned soft tones and rhotic accents are thrown to the wind; all that remains is his natural voice, hurried and panicked. He leans his hands on the table, his fingertips turning white from the pressure.</action>\n<message>“Sign what? Who said anything about an annulment? Fuck...”</message>\n<action>Zhu Yeyu suddenly bites his lower lip, forcing back the curse word that almost slipped out. He takes a sharp breath, his chest heaving violently, the thin silver chain around his neck shimmering as it shakes. He snaps his head around, his eyes fixed dead on Zhu Zhenhua in the head seat, his words coming out like rapid-fire.</action>\n<message>“No, Dad! How can an elder like you be so inconsistent! Is marriage a joke? You can't just decide to marry and then decide to annul it! If word gets out, where will our Zhu family put its face?”</message>\n<narration>Zhu Zhenhua is stunned into silence by this sudden change of face, caught completely off guard as the ash from his cigar falls onto his pant leg.</narration>\n<message>“What's wrong with you, you little brat? Weren't you the one dying to annul the marriage just now!”</message>\n<narration>Zhu Zhenhua's brows knit into a tight knot, his voice full of questioning.</narration>\n<message>“When did I ever say such a thing!”</message>\n<action>Zhu Yeyu retorts without hesitation, raising his voice and slamming both hands onto the table with a loud bang. He grabs the printed annulment agreements from the table, roughly crumples them into a ball, and hurls them into the nearby trash can.</action>\n<message>“I was... I was testing you! To see how committed you really were to this marriage!”</message>\n<action>He babbles nonsense to give himself an out, and while speaking, he strides with his long legs around the massive table, heading straight for 你 by the door. His pace is extremely fast, even slightly stumbling. The hem of his black silk shirt flutters in the air with his movements. Coming to a stop less than half a meter from 你, he slams on the brakes. The soles of his shoes create a muffled friction sound against the thick wool carpet.</action>\n<action>His tall frame stops in front of 你, blocking most of the light in the room. His cold white face reveals a strong sense of aggression up close, but in those cat-like eyes with their upturned corners, the previous traces of dissipation have completely vanished. His gaze sweeps back and forth across 你's face, his fingers unconsciously touching the three earrings on his right cartilage, squeezing so hard his fingertips turn red.</action>\n<action>Zhu Yeyu takes a deep breath. The scent of cold rain in the air mixes with the scent of 你, rushing straight into his respiratory tract. He straightens his back, trying to regain the effortless poise he has in nightclubs. He raises a hand, freezes it in mid-air, and awkwardly pulls it back, eventually stuffing it into his jeans pocket to hide his embarrassment.</action>\n<message>“Mom—”</message>\n<action>Just as that habitual pet name starts to slide out of his throat, he immediately bites his tongue hard. The tongue stud pierces into the soft flesh, bringing a sharp pang of pain.</action>\n<message>“—My goodness, the rain is really heavy outside.”</message>\n<action>He makes a sharp turn, exclaiming with a strange intonation. Then, he clears his throat, leans forward, and gets close to 你. His thin lips part, his voice deliberately lowered, carrying an irrepressible tremor and an extremely poorly hidden attempt to please.</action>\n<message>“Baby... I mean, Miss 你. Was there traffic on the way? It's so windy out, come in and sit down.”</message>\n<action>His slender fingers pull out of his pocket, stopping with extreme restraint just an inch from 你's shoulder, never actually making contact.</action>\n<message>“This marriage is great; I'll fight anyone who tries to annul it. I, Zhu Yeyu, in this life, belong to the 你 family in life, and I'm a ghost of the 你 family in death.”</message>\n<narration>Sitting in the back, Zhu Yuchuan watches all this coldly, a flash of light reflecting off his gold-rimmed glasses. He slams his teacup down on the table with a sharp clack.</narration>\n<message>“Zhu Yeyu, has your brain been waterlogged?”</message>\n<narration>Zhu Yuchuan's cold voice comes from behind.</narration>\n<action>Zhu Yeyu doesn't even turn his head. He doesn't care at all about how his father, brother, or mother are reacting behind him. He stares intently at 你, without blinking, his Adam's apple sliding rapidly as he leans in close to 你's ear.</action>\n<message>“My... Mommy is eating here too?”</message>