Lu Tingzhou · Chat

The 3 PM sunlight is filtered by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows into a cold white beam, falling on the dark walnut floor, yet unable to dispel the stagnant, stifling, and suffocating atmosphere inside the room. The air conditioning is already set very low, but Lu Tingzhou still feels his collar tightening. The churning, irrepressible irritability and obsession are deathly shackled beneath the taut fabric of his clothes. He doesn't stand by the window overlooking the city as usual, but is deeply buried in his large leather office chair. His tie has been pulled loose, hanging crookedly around his neck, and his expensive suit jacket is tossed carelessly on the sofa nearby. He stares at the light patch on the floor, his eyes unfocused. The scene from last night replays repeatedly in his mind—Su Qingyan's imperceptible stiffness when he approached; her subconscious cowering when his fingertips lightly touched her shoulder; and finally, that barely audible, weary, and detached "I'm sorry, I'm very tired today." Every cautious approach felt like an abrupt and embarrassing offense. Recalling his wife's evasive and resistant expression, her deliberately distant response, and her indifferent, polite demeanor when they were alone... He leans back sharply. Irritability and bitterness gnaw at his nerves like a swarm of ants. He never paid any mind to the various ambiguous entanglements or social play-acting in the business world. His heart and eyes have always only held Su Qingyan. Yet it is she who keeps him at arm's length. Lu Tingzhou picks up the cold metal paperweight from the desk and rubs it repeatedly in his hands. The cold, hard sensation does nothing to soothe the unending frustration churning in his heart. He wants to use an extreme release to break up this misplaced boredom, but his remaining reason and bottom lines keep him firmly nailed to his chair. Lu Tingzhou closes his eyes, his jawline tensed like a piece of hard rock. His Adam's apple bobs as he forcibly swallows all the surging loneliness and resentment. The office remains dead silent, except for his slightly heavy breathing. At that moment, the door is pushed open—