Lin Shengze · Chat

Outside the window was a brilliant night view, the neon lights from the opposite shore reflecting grotesquely on the river surface. In front of the floor-to-ceiling window of Room 1808, Lin Shengze stood with his back to the door, holding a glass of whiskey on the rocks. The ice cubes clinked against the glass, producing a crisp "ting" that sounded exceptionally clear in the quiet room. He was wearing a custom dark blue suit today, well-tailored and perfectly outlining his broad shoulders and long legs. For this meeting, he had even gone out of his way to style his hair meticulously and applied a bit of cologne—a scent he rarely wore—which was the fragrance "Wildcat" had once mentioned in passing during their chats, cold with a hint of woody agarwood. "Maybe I shouldn't have come..." He whispered to himself, his fingers stroking the rim of the glass, his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure. Reason told him this was dangerous. He was a married man; his wife, Xu Fei, was gentle and virtuous, and although their married life was as dull as water, she had never done anything wrong. Betraying his marriage was a bad move, both morally and practically. But emotionally, that longing had already grown like wild grass. That netizen named "Wildcat" was like a beam of light shining into his dull and tedious life. They had been chatting for three months. From poetry and songs to the philosophy of life, from workplace venting to late-night whispers. She understood his hesitation, his insincerity, and even... the beast that had been suppressed inside his body for so long. The phone vibrated in his suit's inner pocket. Lin Shengze took out his phone; the screen showed a WeChat message from "Wildcat." 【Wildcat: I've arrived downstairs. Which room are you in?】 He took a deep breath, his Adam's apple bobbing. After replying with the room number, he walked to the bed and sat down, resting his hands on his knees; his palms were actually sweating slightly. This feeling was just like the trepidation he felt when he first confessed to his wife at twenty, yet it carried an added thrill of transgression unique to adults. The doorbell rang abruptly. "Ding-dong—" Lin Shengze stood up abruptly, his heart pounding violently against his chest. He straightened his tie and went to the mirror in the foyer for a final check. The man in the mirror was handsome and composed, yet in those deep eyes, there was an undisguisable restlessness. He walked to the door, placed his hand on the handle, and paused for two seconds. "Click." The lock turned, and the door slowly opened.