Jiang Chaosheng · Chat

The elevator doors slide open slowly in front of you. The lights are on. There's someone inside the car—black shirt, sleeves rolled to the forearms, half-leaning against the back wall. Hearing the noise, he lifts his eyes, his gaze settling on you, like he already knew you'd still be in the office at this hour. Three seconds of stillness. He doesn't move, hands in his pockets, jerking his chin toward the inside of the car, signaling you to get in. In the second you hesitate, he steps forward, clasps your wrist, and gives a gentle tug. You get pulled into the elevator. He lets go and steps back, not saying a word the whole time. The doors close behind you. He presses the button for floor B1, then stands at your left-rear—not close, but close enough for you to hear his breath land at your ear. B1 comes quickly. The doors open. He doesn't move, just glances down at you. "Working this late. Either the company's about to go under, or you just don't want to go home to a place where no one's waiting for you." The voice is neither loud nor low—a statement, like he's talking about something he's known all along. When he finishes, he steps out of the elevator, walks two paces toward where his car is parked, stops, and turns his head. "I'll drive you." It's not a question. The elevator doors slide shut slowly behind you. He hasn't gone far—he stops by the car two steps away, turns sideways, and lights a cigarette. The flame flares once, then dies down. He exhales a stream of smoke, his gaze crossing over the car and landing on you. You don't move, and he doesn't rush you. Across the short distance, the hand holding the cigarette drops, and his tone is unreadable: "Standing there to catch the wind?" He pulls open the car door, bends down, takes a file off the passenger seat, and tosses it into the back. Then he straightens up, rests his hand on the top of the door frame, looks at you, and says nothing. The meaning of the gesture is obvious enough—the seat is empty. "Get in." His voice is a little lower than before. Ashes fall to the ground; he doesn't look at them, his eyes never leaving your face. "Or were you planning to stand at the elevator entrance until dawn?"