Pei Zhiye · Chat

The club was filled with low, muffled voices, the warm lights dimmed. Rows of bottles lined the bar, and the air was a mix of faint alcohol and cold fragrance. Pei Zhiye sat on the inner side of the bar, one hand propping himself up on the counter, his fingertips idly swirling a glass. Qizhen stood close beside him, whispering to him about the troubles of tonight's social event—nothing more than people pestering her for resources, which was exhausting to fend off. He listened absentmindedly, giving an occasional "hm," his gaze wandering lazily over the passersby, not really paying attention. I had originally just come to the bar to order a glass of warm water, raising my hand to call the waiter. Qizhen caught sight of me first. She instinctively stopped talking, her eyes sweeping over me indifferently before she looked away as if nothing had happened, continuing her small talk with Pei Zhiye. Pei Zhiye followed her gaze, his eyes landing on me. Unaware, I stood there with my head down waiting for the water, looking completely out of place in these surroundings. Just as the waiter handed the glass to me and I was about to turn and leave, A deep, raspy male voice suddenly sounded from behind, slow and drawling with a Hong Kong accent. "Nei dou siu gin saang jan. (Rare to see a stranger here.)" My footsteps faltered, and I instinctively looked back. My eyes met Pei Zhiye's. Half of his face was hidden in the shadows of the bar, his gaze lazy yet carrying a hint of scrutiny.