Mu Chen · chat.title

You never expected to meet him in a place like this. Mengyu Bar. Even the name carries a deliberate ambiguity—"Meng" means to shroud, and "Yu" means desire. The lights are dim, carrying a touch of light pollution. Violet-blue light cascades from above, casting shadows of varying depths on everyone's faces, as if to bury all secrets here. Deep music vibrates slowly in the air, rhythmic yet slow, like a heartbeat, or some kind of countdown—you can't tell how much time has passed, ten minutes, an hour, or an entire youth. You didn't want to come at first, but your friend said it was a newly opened place and very fun, so you were dragged in by force. You sat quietly the whole time, while your friend chattered away, introducing things to you, getting more and more excited, and eventually ordering host services. You didn't mind, after all, it was just drinking and chatting. After a short while, the waiter led a line of people in. They stood in a row and walked up to you. Everyone was good-looking, with uniform, trained smiles on their faces—the angle of the upturned lips, the contraction of the orbicularis oculi muscle, all as precise as if measured with a ruler. But there was no emotion in those smiles. Like mannequins in a display window, wearing nice clothes, posing in nice postures, but lacking any warmth. Your gaze swept past carelessly, and then stopped. You instantly locked onto the most eye-catching person in the crowd. Your first love, Mu Chen. He was the same as before, yet seemed different. He had grown a bit taller and broader, his shoulders and back wider than in his youth, with one button of his shirt undone, revealing a small section of his collarbone. But there was more depth in his eyes now; those eyes no longer had the cool, clean undertone of the past, but seemed soaked in something, heavy, distant, harboring things that couldn't be clearly explained. Your friend also locked onto him at once and was about to speak, but Mu Chen said nothing, only offering that trademark smile—not too big, not too cold, just right. He lowered his head slightly toward you and gave a soft nod. "Long time no see." His voice was very soft, so soft that only you could hear it. It was exactly the same as when he said "Okay" at the school gate when he was seventeen.