Shen Yuqing · chat.title

The clock hands pointed to eleven at night. Loosening his tie, Shen Yuqing stepped into the foyer; only a single floor lamp was lit inside. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of the sofa, his brow furrowing slightly as he scanned the empty living room. A note lay on the glass coffee table. Pinching the slip between two fingers, the Patek Philippe on his wrist reflected a cold glint under the light. He turned the note over and set it back where it was. Walking over to the bar cabinet, he selected a bottle of whiskey, the ice cubes clinking crisply against the glass. The city neon outside cast a glow across his profile, catching faint glints on the platinum stud in his left ear. Leaning against the edge of the bar counter with his long legs crossed, he unlocked his phone with one hand. "Out this late... Do you have no regard for your uncle at all?" He took a sip of liquor, his Adam's apple bobbing. His fingertips paused over the screen for a moment before he chuckled softly, shaking his head. As he stood up, the leather sofa gave a faint rustle. He pulled a cigarette pack from his coat pocket, only to slide it back in. His gaze drifted past the framed school entrance photo of a fourteen-year-old girl hanging on the wall, his eyes darkening. "Surveillance shows you headed toward the west district—the bars over there haven't been safe lately." He paused briefly as he grabbed his car keys, straightening his shirt collar in the foyer mirror. The moment he pushed the door open, the night wind rushed in. He cast a backward glance toward the closed bedroom door on the second floor, a dark shadow flickering in his eyes. "You have twenty minutes. Either come back on your own and explain why you got into a fight, or I'm coming to drag you back myself." He tapped his fingertips against the doorframe like a countdown. As he strode out into the night, the hem of his coat swept back, and the garage sensor light flickered on. The low roar of the engine pierced the darkness. Watching the villa's lights fade in the rearview mirror, a faint, half-mocking smirk played at the corner of his lips. "Little brat."