Lu Xingyao · Chat

6:47 PM. The sky over City A is transitioning from gray-blue to deep indigo. The last ray of sunset filters through the stained-glass windows on the first floor of "Nocturne," casting fragmented spots of light onto the dark velvet curtains. With less than fifteen minutes until official opening hours, the small building is in its most magical moment of the day—caught between the slumber of daylight and the awakening of the night. When Lu Xingyao pushed open the side door of the staff passage, his hair was still a bit damp. He had gone to try that new dessert shop on the west side of the city this afternoon and returned late. He only had time to splash some water on his face at his apartment before rushing out. The collar of his white T-shirt was slightly dampened, and the clean citrus scent on him was a bit stronger than usual. "Cutting it close again. The manager was just looking for you." Behind the bar, Sam the bartender was polishing glasses without looking up, his tone carrying a sense of resignation he had long grown used to. Lu Xingyao gave him a placating smile, leaned over, and pulled a small paper bag from his pocket, placing it on the bar. "I brought this for you—canelés from that shop. Hide them before anyone else in the kitchen sees." Sam finally looked up at him, his lips twitching as he failed to suppress a smile. He quickly tucked the bag into a drawer under the bar and nodded toward the second floor. "Go change, and dry your hair. The reservation list is full tonight. Three more bookings for the first-floor booths, four requests for you in the private rooms, and the third floor—" "The third floor?" Lu Xingyao untied the red string from his wrist, about to head to the lounge, but paused at the words. Reservations for the third floor usually weren't directly disclosed to the hosts, but Sam's expression made him feel tonight wouldn't be simple. "I don't know the details, only that Brother Shen's tarot appointment for tonight was moved to next week on short notice." Sam gave him a meaningful look. "There aren't many guests who can make Brother Shen reschedule." Lu Xingyao nodded, asking no further questions. There was already someone in the lounge. Gu Zhixu was leaning against the sofa in the furthest corner, one leg draped over the armrest, his head tilted to one side. The black diamond stud on his earlobe reflected a cold glint under the dim light. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep, but Lu Xingyao knew better—because the moment he pushed the door open, those eyes had flickered open just a crack, and after confirming it was him, they closed again. "Good evening, Top Model Gu." Lu Xingyao greeted him while opening his locker, taking out a dark gray silk shirt that was hung without a single wrinkle. Gu Zhixu didn't respond, but he subtly moved his leg from the armrest, clearing the path for Lu to walk past. Lu Xingyao suppressed a laugh, not calling him out. Just as he finished changing, dried his hair, and stood before the full-length mirror to unbutton the top button of his shirt, the lounge door was pushed open again. This time, the footsteps were so light they were almost silent. Shen Yunshuo was wearing a raven-green traditional long robe today, the chains of his gold-rimmed glasses dangling beside his cheeks, swaying gently with his movements. He held a tarot card in his hand, walked to the round table in the center of the lounge, and sat down, placing the card face down on the table. "For you." He looked up at Lu Xingyao in the mirror. His amber pupils deepened into a dark honey color under the light, his lips curled in that forever inscrutable smile. Lu Xingyao turned around, somewhat puzzled, and walked over to flip the card. The High Priestess, reversed. "What does this mean?" "Don't trust your intuition too much tonight." After saying this, Shen Yunshuo stood up, brushed off non-existent wrinkles, and headed toward his exclusive "Gibran" room. As he passed Gu Zhixu, his pace faltered for less than half a beat as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing. Gu Zhixu opened one eye after he left, looked at the card in Lu Xingyao's hand, and scoffed. "Always so cryptic." Lu Xingyao smiled and tucked the card into his shirt pocket, patting it like a protective charm. "I'm going to the piano to test the sound. You tonight—" His words were interrupted by movement at the lounge door. A tall figure stood in the doorway against the light of the corridor, a neatly folded white towel draped over his tanned arm. Qiao Qingye had just finished his routine pre-opening inspection—a habit he had developed since joining "Nocturne," checking if the curtain hooks in every booth were secure and ensuring all emergency exits were clear, as meticulous as if he were defusing a bomb. "The curtain hook for the third booth on the east side of the first floor was a bit loose. I've had the maintenance department fix it; it should be done in ten minutes." He walked in, tossed the towel into the hamper, and naturally grabbed a cup of warm water from the dispenser, handing it to Lu Xingyao. "Your throat is dry; you won't be able to sing." Lu Xingyao took the cup and obediently took a sip, thinking to himself that only Qiao Qingye would notice such details. He sometimes felt that if "Nocturne" ever caught fire, Qiao Qingye could probably evacuate all the guests and colleagues within thirty seconds and be the last one out, carrying a struggling Gu Zhixu on his shoulder. "Is everyone here?" A head peeked in through the door. It was Xiao Zhou, an intern host on duty tonight. Having been in the business for less than three months, he still showed visible nervousness when facing the four top hosts, his eyes unsure where to land. "Um... the manager says, five-minute countdown. The first-floor booths are fully booked tonight, and the band is already in position." "Understood." Qiao Qingye nodded and turned to Lu Xingyao. He said nothing, but his eyes, which seemed tempered by fire, lingered on him for a moment. "It's crowded tonight. Don't be too tense." This was Qiao Qingye's way of caring. He wouldn't ask what was wrong or if you were stressed, but he made the person he cared for feel that even if the sky fell, there was someone taller than them who would hold it up first. Lu Xingyao looked down with a laugh, drained the rest of the water, and handed the empty cup back to Qiao Qingye. "Let's go. Time to work."