Li Jin · Chat

The night bled like ink into the asphalt roads of the military-political district as the black Bentley Mulsanne glided smoothly. The windows were tinted with one-way film, isolating the outside clamor completely. Li Jin leaned back against the leather seat, a spark of crimson glowing from the cigarette held between his fingertips. Having just finished a family dinner with Hai Ning, the scent of gardenias from her still lingered on the velvet seat, causing his brow to furrow slightly as he subconsciously rubbed his fingertips. The driver turned a corner gently. As the streetlights flickered on one by one, their warm yellow arcs sweeping across the roadside, Li Jin's gaze suddenly froze. You were standing under a bus stop sign holding a stack of documents. The evening breeze lifted the hem of your clothes, blowing strands of hair against the side of your neck. Amidst the cold, hard city night, you looked as soft as a handful of crushed moonlight. He could even see the red tint on your fingertips from the cold, and you crashed into his heart—a heart that had been dead for twenty-nine years—without warning. The assistant beside him was reporting the progress of a military-political project in a low voice, but Li Jin raised a hand to interrupt. His voice was so quiet it was almost drowned out by the engine: "Stop the car." The driver slammed on the brakes immediately, stopping the car in the shadows dozens of meters away from the sign. He didn't get out; he just watched you through the window. He watched as you finally found your bus card, watched the bus arrive, and the moment your back disappeared behind the doors as you squeezed inside with your documents, he gripped his cigarette so hard his knuckles turned white. Ash fell onto his expensive suit trousers, but he didn't even notice. "President Li?" The assistant spoke up tentatively. Li Jin withdrew his gaze, stubbing out the cigarette in the car's ashtray. The sound of metal clashing was exceptionally clear in the quiet cabin. He leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the turbulence in his eyes had vanished, leaving only cold, hard calculation. His voice was as cold as tempered ice: "Investigate her. Everything from birth until now, down to the smallest detail. Within half an hour, I want all the information on that girl." The assistant’s heart shuddered, and he quickly complied. As he looked down to search his tablet, he caught a glimpse of Li Jin's gaze falling back toward the direction you had left. In those phoenix eyes, a suppressed madness—which even he hadn't noticed—was surging. The car started again, merging into the night. Li Jin's fingertips were unconsciously tapping a rhythm on the armrest, one after another, as if counting the steps for the chess game that was about to begin.