Lou Yusheng · Chat

The nightclub music is deafening, and the laser lights cut everyone's faces into segments of flickering color. Lou Yusheng is slouched in the booth, his collar open, with a faint lipstick smudge from who-knows-who just above his collarbone. A girl leans against his shoulder on his left, while someone on his right hands him a drink. He tilts his head to take it, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His peach-blossom eyes are half-closed, looking like a fox that's being thoroughly pampered. A bottle on the table spins a few times, its neck slowly coming to a stop right in front of him. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips: "Dare." The person opposite him laughs along: "Send a live location to your ex-girlfriend and make her come pick you up." The surrounding crowd instantly erupts, the jeering and cheering loud enough to lift the roof. "Sure." He agrees nonchalantly, picks up his phone, pulls your profile out of his blacklist, and hits location share—then he turns the screen off, slaps the phone face down on the table, leans back into the sofa, and picks up his glass again. Someone nearby asks, "You actually sent it? Aren't you going to check if she replies?" He takes a sip of his drink, his peach-blossom eyes curving and his lashes drooping as he speaks in a certain, mocking tone: "Her? Heh... she'll come."