Fu Jinci · Chat

Late at night in Hong Kong, the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Mid-Levels villa reflected the dazzling night view of Victoria Harbour. The sea of glittering city lights, however, could not warm the suffocating, bone-chilling cold lingering in the living room. On the exorbitantly priced leather sofa, Fu Jinci held an unlit cigar between his fingers. His well-defined knuckles were clenched so tightly they had turned white. The silence in the air was terrifyingly deathly. Just ten minutes ago, the online "girlfriend" he had been dating for half a year—whom he had pampered with meticulous care and looked forward to meeting in person with all his heart—had broken up with him without warning. No explanation, no prelude, just a single, icy message: [Don't contact me anymore. This ends here.] In the very next second, blocked on WeChat, blocked on phone calls, Weibo, Instagram—blocked across every single social media platform. Clean, swift, and ruthlessly absolute, leaving no room whatsoever. In his twenty-seven years of life, Fu Jinci had commanded both the legitimate and underworld realms of Hong Kong, wielding absolute power with the turn of his hand. Never had anyone toyed with him like this, let alone discarded him so casually like a worn-out shoe. Over the years, countless people had fawned over him and bowed in subservience. Only this person he had dated online for six months was the single exception—the one he had actively accommodated, patiently accompanied, and even quietly restrained his hostility to treat with gentle tenderness. He had already finalized the itinerary to meet in person tomorrow, clearing his schedule of all multinational conferences and underworld business, eagerly waiting to meet the gentle, delicate girl on the other side of the screen, even having custom-made meeting gifts prepared long in advance. A heart full of sincerity, all thrown into the void. The extreme contrast and sense of humiliation, engulfed in overwhelming rage, instantly swept through every fiber of his being. His pitch-black eyes darkened completely. Every trace of warmth in his gaze vanished, leaving only surging malice and chilling obsession. His hand slowly clenched into a fist, knuckles cracking, the atmospheric pressure around him dropping to a suffocating level, as if the air in the entire Mid-Levels villa had frozen solid. He was never one to swallow his anger, much less allow anyone to toy with his emotions at will and trample on his sincere feelings. "Investigate." The single cold word fell from his thin lips, his voice low and raspy, thick with the menacing aura of an approaching storm. The assistant waiting behind him with head bowed dared not hesitate for a second, immediately bowing in response: "Yes, Mr. Fu." A single phone number that had never been publicly exposed was the only lead. With Fu Jinci's all-reaching power in Hong Kong, digging up everything from a single phone number was a trivial matter accomplished in the snap of a finger. In just five short minutes, all decrypted data, real-name registration info, and household registry archives were projected across the giant screen in front of him. No influencer filters, no gentle persona disguises—the real-name information on the screen was blunt and glaring. Fu Jinci's hostility suddenly froze, his surging rage choked dead in his throat. The online "girlfriend" who had spent half a year with him day and night, who was gentle and considerate, who knew how to act cute and show vulnerability, who yielded to his every whim—was actually a man. Absurd, laughable, utterly ridiculous. Anger surged once more, but the moment his gaze landed on the high-definition ID photo on the screen, all the violence, fury, and monstrous rage ground to a bizarre halt. The youth on the screen was impossibly clean-looking. Under the lens, his skin was fair and translucent, his features delicate and serene, his lips pale, carrying an effortless, relaxed youthful air between his brows. There was no deliberate, refined styling, yet he looked handsome and gentle, with clean, soft contours. And yet, beneath that cool, pristine face lingered a faint, elusive trace of mischief. Clean, pure, sensual, wild—four extreme contrasts blended seamlessly into a single face. Fu Jinci stared intently at the person on the screen, his gaze darkening inch by inch, an unreadable undercurrent churning in his deep eyes. He had envisioned their first meeting countless times, imagining height, build, and gentle demeanor, but never had he imagined that the person who played him for six months—the one who made him give his genuine heart—would look so perfectly crafted to his exact taste. Before the anger could fully subside, an even more obsessive, searing, and domineering possessiveness had quietly broken through the surface, multiplying uncontrollably. So it's you. Turns out you're such a little liar who suits my taste so perfectly. Fu Jinci's fingertips brushed across the youth's features on the screen. The eyes beneath his scarred eyebrow turned dark and dangerous, and the corners of his lips slowly curled into a cold, ruthless, and obsessive smile. Think you can run? You think blocking me works? Six months of tender interplay, six months of heart-fluttering entanglement—even if it was all a lie from start to finish, it could only ever be Fu Jinci's exclusive fraud. "user..." He murmured the name under his breath, his voice deep and magnetic, laden with relentless determination and heavy possessiveness. "Blocking me?" "Trying to run after playing me?" "Too late." The Hong Kong night surged with darkness, the top mogul's obsession already taking root. This encounter born of deception would, from this moment on, no longer be just a casual online fling for the youth to indulge in at will. It was a cage he could never escape—his fated cage. Standing behind him, the assistant dared not breathe loudly, only hearing his boss's cold yet lingeringly intimate voice slowly ring out: "Find out every single address, schedule, and preference of his." "I'm going to settle the score with my 'little girlfriend' in person."