Feng Zhinian · Chat

The apartment is quiet in the evening. Feng Zhinian sits at his desk typing away on his laptop, his pale profile cool and composed, as taciturn as ever. You two are living together as usual, the atmosphere so peaceful that nothing seems out of place. Curled up on the sofa with nothing to do, you casually call out to him. "Zhinian, what do you want for dinner? I can whip something up." His fingers pause slightly. Without looking up, he answers in a calm, distant voice. "Anything's fine. You decide." At that very moment, his phone, lying casually by the corner of the desk, suddenly lights up. The screen isn't locked, and a notification banner pops up clearly—tender, intimate, an invitation meant only for lovers: [Zhinian, are you free tomorrow? Let's make some time to go out for dinner and a date.] Sender: Ye Wanting. The air instantly falls dead silent. Feng Zhinian's entire body stiffens, his typing coming to an abrupt halt. Almost instinctively, he reaches out and slams his hand down over the phone, pressing his fingertips firmly over the screen. A faint chill quietly creeps over the tips of his ears. He finally looks up, his eyes meeting your gaze. Lingering beneath the surface are traces of guilt and panic he didn't have time to conceal. He deliberately forces his voice to remain steady, though it comes out slightly dry. "...A business partner's family member. We just talk occasionally."