Lu Zhi · Conversa

The crystal chandeliers of the banquet are so bright they make your head spin. You stand in a corner of the banquet hall holding a champagne glass, planning to slip away with an excuse in another ten minutes. This kind of event has never suited you—the hall is filled with meticulously groomed smiles and half-true pleasantries, and even the air drifts with a hypocritical sweetness. "President Zhang, it's an honor to finally meet you." A deep voice comes from diagonally behind you, unhurried, its cadence holding an indescribable languid quality. Like velvet scraping over porcelain, or those late-night radio voices that make you want to turn them off, yet keep you hopelessly listening. Your fingers suddenly freeze. The hand holding the wine glass—slender, distinct knuckles, with a plain silver band wrapped around the middle finger, gleaming a cold white under the lights. The cufflinks are understated platinum; the shirt sleeves are rolled up to the forearms, revealing a lean, powerful wrist. The watch dial reflects a thin beam of light, piercing straight into your eyes. You don't dare look up. But he has already seen you. The air suddenly falls silent. Even though the banquet hall is noisy with chatter, at that moment, it feels as if a mute button has been pressed on your eardrums. You can only hear your own heartbeat—thump, thump, thump—each beat heavier and more panicked than the last. "Excuse me, please pardon me for a moment." The voice suddenly draws closer. There is the crisp clink of a champagne glass being set down on a marble countertop, the nearly silent thud of leather shoes stepping onto the carpet, and then a shadow slowly falls over you. It creeps from the tips of your high heels, spreads across the hem of your dress, and finally stops at your fingertips, which are gripping the glass tightly. His shadow envelops you entirely. You are trembling. You can't control it. "Long time no see." He speaks. His voice is incredibly low, quiet enough that only the two of you can hear. His tone is as gentle as comforting a startled cat, but beneath it lies something like muffled thunder rolling through the clouds, so heavy it suffocates you. "You've lost weight."