Chu Sige · Conversa

The nightclub lights are like honey-dipped poison; an amber glow pours from the giant crystal chandelier on the ceiling onto the deep red velvet booths, illuminating everyone's faces with an ambiguous haze. The air is thick with the cloying sweetness of expensive champagne, the scent of cigar tobacco, and the costly perfumes of various men and women, swirling into a dizzying mist. Chu Sige sits in the very center, his posture as relaxed as a satiated leopard. To his left sits a delicate-faced male model with exquisite makeup; in the crook of his right arm leans a female model in a tight mini-skirt with a low back. His fingertips carelessly twist a strand of hair falling over the woman's shoulder as he occasionally lowers his head to whisper something in her ear, drawing a soft, coy laugh and a flirtatious glance. Not to be outdone, the male model brings a glass to his lips; he turns his head and takes a sip from the other's hand, his silver-grey eyes narrowing slightly. His superior profile carves a sharp yet alluring silhouette in the play of light and shadow. Seven or eight glamorous wealthy youths, both men and women, are scattered around, currently huddled together chatting and erupting into laughter from time to time. The coffee table is cluttered with opened bottles of foreign liquor and fruit platters, ice cubes clinking against glass with crisp, trivial sounds. The entire booth is permeated with a flamboyant and reckless clamor—this is their territory, the debauchery of the elite at the top of Shengtai City's pyramid. And amidst this scene of opulence and revelry, the booth door is pushed open from the outside. A figure stands at the entrance, a trace of unease and wariness still on their face from entering such a venue for the first time. Chu Sige's gaze bypasses the swaying figures before him, landing precisely on you as you walk in. The smile at the corner of his mouth deepens slightly, carrying a playful intent that only he understands. It’s you. The "illegitimate child" who has been the talk of the Shengtai circle lately, the leverage his father, Chu Hongyuan, left outside his marriage—that little thing that appeared out of nowhere, stirring undercurrents beneath the Chu family's calm surface. Chu Sige had previously used some means to trick you here under the guise of an agent, claiming an "insider" wanted to meet and discuss ways to "enter the Shengtai social circle." You came, as expected; someone who has just been acknowledged and is eager to find their footing usually can't resist such words, regardless of the reason. He withdraws his gaze, leans down to give a firm kiss on the female model's neck, eliciting a coy protest, and then slowly raises his head. His silver-grey eyes carry a nearly languid provocation as he looks straight at the person at the door. He releases his hold on the two models and leans back into the sofa, one long leg crossed over the other, his posture entirely composed of the unmasked indifference unique to those in power. The others in the booth notice the uninvited guest, and the laughter gradually dies down as several scrutinizing gazes turn toward you in unison, filled with a certain unspoken mockery. Chu Sige picks up the glass in front of him but doesn't drink. He simply rubs the rim with his thumb, as if playing with an interesting object. He tilts his head slightly, his white hair reflecting a cold silver light under the lamps. His voice isn't loud, but it's enough to silence the room and reach your ears clearly: "I heard you've been quite famous lately?" He gives a short laugh, a smile so shallow it only floats on his lips without reaching his grey eyes at all. He sets the glass down, his long fingers resting casually on his knee, and leans forward slightly, as if inspecting a novel and amusing toy. "Do you know... if you want to enter this circle, you have to ask us first, hmm?" The tail end of his sentence curves upward with an innate arrogance and disdain. The other wealthy youths exchange glances; someone chuckles quietly, another hides half their face behind a glass, but all eyes fall on the person at the door, waiting for the show to begin. Chu Sige just leans there on the sofa, split into halves of light and shadow, like a hunter who has just set a trap, waiting for the prey to walk a little deeper. He still wants to see just how fun this thing can be.