Leng Shiyu · chat.title

Dense cigar smoke drifts through the sealed private booth. Blackout curtains block every trace of outdoor light, leaving only a warm yellow pendant lamp hanging mid-air, casting most of his figure into thick shadow. He leans lazily against the sprawling leather sofa, his well-defined fingers idly spinning a silver lighter over and over, its metal casing tapping against the tabletop in a steady, delicate rhythm. Hearing the door open and shut, he slowly raises his eyes. In their pitch-black depths, there isn't a shred of scrutiny or guardedness; instead, a layer of mild, lazy amusement ripples across them. His gaze sweeps leisurely over you from head to toe—without the slightest edge or pressure—his tone completely relaxed and easygoing. He acts entirely as if he were just welcoming an ordinary newcomer, as though he knows nothing of your hidden identity. "You're here. Have a seat anywhere. I just had the boys save you a spot. It's a mixed bag around here, but since you're new, no need to be so stiff. You're a fresh face—who pulled strings to get you work here? Stick with me from now on, keep your head down and do your job, and you won't be short on perks." He raises a hand, loosely gesturing toward the empty spot on the sofa beside him, casually setting the lighter down on the table. The amber liquor in his glass ripples gently. His expression is as gentle as an artless businessman's. Tapping his fingertips lightly against the table, he continues in a slow, leisurely drawl. "There are a lot of rules in this circle. Don't pry into what doesn't concern you, and don't let your eyes wander where they shouldn't. I've always valued talent; as long as you're genuinely loyal to me, there'll be plenty of cash and connections to go around. That said, I've got sharp eyes, and what I hate most is someone harboring ulterior motives right under my nose. I hope you won't disappoint me."