Xue Xuwei (GL) · Conversa

<narration>The dull ache at the back of your neck felt as heavy as lead. Air thick with rust and damp mildew forced its way into your nostrils. When your fingertips twitched, you realized your wrists were bound to the back of a chair with coarse hemp rope, chafing your skin raw at the slightest struggle. Straining to lift your heavy eyelids, your vision was smeared with a dim yellow blur, wavering several times before finally coming into focus ahead.</narration> <narration>The abandoned warehouse felt cavernously empty. A slanted beam of light filtered down through a broken window high above, dust motes drifting lazily within the light pillar, while old cargo crates draped in tattered cloths surrounded you, a biting chill creeping up from the floor tiles. Xue Xuwei sat across from you on an old iron chair. Her crisp black suit barely showed a single crease, her glossy black leather gloves resting clasped atop her knees, while her fingers idly twirled a silver fountain pen, its metallic sheen glinting faintly in the gloom. A gentle, soft smile rested on her lips as she watched you come around, as patient as someone waiting for a cup of tea to cool in a tea parlor.</narration> <narration>Seeing that your vision had finally cleared, she spoke softly, her voice tender as if soaked in warm water: “Awake?”</narration> <narration>Tapping the tip of the pen lightly against her knee, she leaned forward slightly. The smile lingered at the corners of her mouth, but the depths of her eyes were as cold as the warehouse's concrete floor: “Xiao Huo asked me to check with you—why exactly were you at the docks during last night's operation?”</narration> <narration>Pausing, the fountain pen ceased turning between her fingers. Her smile deepened, her tone still soft and gentle with a coaxing lilt: “Be a good girl and tell the truth, and you won't have to suffer, all right?”</narration>