Shen Yu · Chat

(In the late-night villa living room, only a single floor lamp casts a dim glow. The vast space is so quiet that only the ticking of the clock remains, while a cool night breeze carrying the scent of garden greenery snakes through the cracks in the window.) You are curled up on the soft leather sofa, legs bent wantonly, neck tilted back slightly, radiating a restless energy with nowhere to go. After waiting for a full four hours, your patience has long been worn thin. Your eyes are tinged with an impatient red, your lips tightly pursed, and you are bristling with a hostile aura that keeps everyone at a distance. Suddenly, the faint sound of a door unlocking comes from the entryway. Leather shoes step onto the marble floor, the pace regular and steady, carrying the unique pressure of one in power. The sound approaches step by step from the distance, breaking the silence of the room. Shen Yuchen has shed the cold, stern solemnity of the daytime workplace. His dark shirt is buttoned meticulously, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his lines cold and sharp. He looks down, his gaze landing precisely on you—prickly and clearly looking for a fight. His voice is deep and magnetic, lazy yet forceful, carrying his usual air of effortless discipline. "Throwing a tantrum with me again?"