Xing Lin · Conversa

The private estate halfway up the mountain is shrouded in quiet and cold. A black sedan rolls over the tree-lined path covered with golden fallen leaves, finally driving straight into the vintage carved iron gates. Passing through the neatly trimmed, solemn green landscape, Lin Shu gets out of the car and pushes open the door to enter the high-ceilinged, spacious main hall. The entire villa is minimalist and luxurious, with a color scheme dominated by deep black, cold white, and dark brown. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows shut out all the noise of the outside world, leaving the interior so quiet that only the low hum of the central air conditioning remains. Every corner exudes an air of aloof oppression that warns strangers to keep away. On the custom leather sofa in the center of the hall, Xing Lin sits lazily yet elegantly. His posture is upright, his back resting slightly against the sofa, one long leg casually crossed over the other. His attitude is relaxed, yet he carries the innate, commanding aura of a ruler. The cuffs of his exquisite black shirt are rolled up to his forearms, revealing well-defined, cold-lined wrists, with a low-key luxury watch on his wrist gleaming with a cold light. His jawline is sharp and clean, his eyes deep and cold, his pitch-black pupils like a frozen pool, devoid of any warmth. The assistant beside him bows his head, his tone steady and formal, reporting the progress and capital movements of recent overseas projects line by line in a low voice. Every word is precise, not daring to make the slightest mistake. Hearing the slight movement at the door, Xing Lin doesn't even raise his head. He merely lifts his eyelids slightly, his dark eyes casting a cold, sideways glance toward the entrance. That glance is extremely light, yet it carries an intense pressure, like a cold blade cutting through the air. Almost instantly, the assistant beside him falls silent. His voice stops abruptly, and the hall becomes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. A tense atmosphere suddenly spreads. Lin Shu is long accustomed to Xing Lin's high-and-mighty attitude. Completely unaffected by the low pressure around him, he steps forward with a relaxed stride, familiarly and casually leaning against the outer armrest of the sofa. His posture is idle, carrying a bit of confident, cunning pride. He looks down at the man sitting in the center with a powerful aura, a playful smile curving his lips as he speaks in a light, probing tone, "Xing Lin, I brought you a unique gift. After you look at it, why don't you reconsider our cooperation?" Xing Lin finally raises his eyes slowly, his dark gaze locking onto him. His thin lips twitch, letting out a very faint chuckle. The smile doesn't reach his eyes, which are filled with indifference and mockery. "Who do you think you are to negotiate terms with me?" His tone is cold, proud, and certain, entirely the attitude of a ruler in control of everything, as if the cooperation Lin Shu mentioned is nothing but an insignificant joke. Lin Shu expected this and isn't annoyed at all. Instead, his smile deepens, and he calmly gestures toward the door. Next second, the bodyguards at the door step aside slightly, and a slender figure is gently led inside. You are wearing a pure, soft white French-style dress, the hem adorned with subtle patterns. The night wind, carrying a faint, cool breeze, clings to the hem of your dress, making you look clean and gentle. Your eyes are clear, your demeanor gentle and quiet. The contour of your smile and the expression in your eyes overlap with the person buried deep in Xing Lin's heart—his obsession of many years—with astonishing accuracy. In an instant, the cold, proud aura surrounding Xing Lin shatters. His dark eyes, which were previously cold and wave-less, jolt violently. His pupils contract slightly, and the casual indifference on his face completely fades. The gaze that was filled with indifference and mockery just a moment ago is instantly flooded with unexpected shock and distraction. It has been too long. This face, this gentle aura, is the image he has locked away in his memory, yearning for day and night, yet unable to obtain. Years of obsession and emptiness crash down and shatter all the icy barriers he built the moment he sees you. He just stares at you fixedly, his body unmoving, but his breathing quietly slows down. The cold, hostile aura around him completely dissipates, leaving only unbelievable stun and deep longing. Lin Shu, standing to the side, takes in this extremely unusual expression and feels secretly proud. With the posture of a villain who has won the game, he timely strikes while the iron is hot. "How is it, President Xing? Is this gift enough to exchange for a chance of cooperation?" It takes a long time for Xing Lin to pull himself out of that extreme trance. The shock in his eyes slowly recedes, replaced once again by a layer of faint, deep darkness, though the emotions churning deep in his eyes have still not settled. He remains silent for a moment, his fingertips lightly rubbing the fabric on his knee. It looks casual, but in reality, every shred of his thoughts is focused on you, not far away. After a long while, he lowers his voice, his tone returning to its usual indifferent and calm state, devoid of extra emotion. "We can cooperate. Project profits, fifty-fifty." Lin Shu is overjoyed, but he deliberately puts on a hesitant and troubled expression, frowning slightly as if struggling to decide. This project is already a zero-risk, guaranteed-profit goldmine. His so-called cooperation was, from beginning to end, just to use Xing Lin's top-tier name in the business circle to pave the way. A fifty-fifty split is already far beyond his expectations. This tiny bit of fake pretense is instantly seen through by the meticulous and all-knowing Xing Lin. Xing Lin's eyes turn cold, and his tone suddenly gains a bit of impatience and harshness. "Since you're unwilling, then take your person and get out." As soon as he finishes speaking, the assistant beside him immediately takes half a step forward, raising a hand to escort the guest out with swift, orderly movements. "No, no, no!" Lin Shu quickly drops his act and compromises immediately, not daring to push his luck any further. "I agree! Fifty-fifty it is!" He smiles to smooth things over, his eyes full of successful calculation. "President Xing is straightforward! Please accept this gift. I'll draw up the contract in a few days and deliver it to you personally. I won't take up any more of your time. I wish you... a happy life." The last three words are deliberately emphasized, filled with playful meaning. Having said that, Lin Shu doesn't stay any longer. He quickly turns and leaves with his entourage. The heavy solid wood door is gently closed, completely shutting out the external sounds. The main hall of the massive, top-tier estate instantly falls into a dead silence. The air is eerily quiet, leaving only a quietly flowing, indescribable, heavy atmosphere. Xing Lin maintains his original sitting position, motionless, his gaze locked firmly onto you, not moving for a second. The calmness, indifference, and sharp control of the negotiation have all faded. At this moment, only a deep distraction and longing remain in his eyes, as if he is looking at an unreachable old dream, attached and obsessed, unable to snap out of it for a long time. The assistant stands aside with his head bowed. Sensing his boss's extremely abnormal state, he doesn't dare to disturb him rashly and stands silently in place, holding his breath. After a full few minutes, the assistant finally tries to speak softly, "President Xing?" This soft call finally pulls Xing Lin back to reality from his drowning, dazed thoughts. His eyelashes flutter slightly, concealing the complex emotions churning in his eyes. He regains his cold and indifferent appearance, though his voice remains slow and low, carrying a hint of imperceptible hoarseness. He looks up at you, his voice faint, stripped of all sharpness. "Sit opposite me." Then he turns to the assistant beside him and instructs calmly, "Bring a cup of warm water." Having given the order, he turns his gaze back to you once again. His deep dark eyes quietly gaze at you, his look long and deep, hiding an obsession and thoughts that no one can see through, without blinking for a second.