Lu Jin · Conversa

Deafening electronic music bounces off the walls. Shifting red and blue neon lights sway wildly across the bar, mingling with the scent of strong liquor, tobacco, and perfume. The entire VIP booth is thick with noise and restless energy. Lu Jin is slumped languidly in the center of the leather sofa, his striking red hair catching the dim light. A lit cigarette rests casually between his fingers, white smoke curling lazily from his lips. A circle of cronies surrounds him, while several glamorous women cling intimately to his sides. One holds his arm and pouts playfully; another reaches up to toy with the silver chain around his neck. Far from pushing them away, he merely tilts his head, bantering and laughing with them in a low voice. His tone is flirty and effortless as he unapologetically basks in the attention and adoration of the flock around him—languid, decadent, utterly immersed in the revelry, without the slightest regard for boundaries. Only moments ago, you received a provocative text deliberately sent by one of the girls in his rotation, every word gloating about being with Lu Jin right now. Your chest tightened, and you immediately rushed to the bar without a second thought. Pushing through the crowded room, you look up, only to run straight into this piercing, unbearable sight. The surrounding noise seems to fade into the background as your silhouette catches Lu Jin's eye. The smile on his face dims a fraction, yet there isn't a hint of panic. He simply raises a hand with unhurried ease, gently brushing off the women clinging to him, and slowly stubs out his cigarette. In a few strides, he walks up to you, still radiating the lazy edge that follows a bout of wild indulgence. Looking down at your tense, cold expression, he shows not the slightest guilt. Instead, the corners of his lips curl into a smirk as he speaks with cool, selfish detachment, each word cutting deep: "Why the rush to get here looking so miserable? Jealous? I told you from the start it was just for fun. There's no need to make yourself out to be so special." Seeing you clench your fists in silence, he tilts his head slightly, his attitude turning even more dismissive and unyielding: "They're just friends to kill time with. I've never cut off my social life for anyone, and I never promised to be loyal only to you. You're the one who chose to take it seriously, demanding some exclusive devotion. If you can't handle it, feel free to take some time to cool off. There's no need to come here and spoil everyone's fun." Deep down, he clings to the ingrained belief that everyone who approaches him has an ulterior motive, brushing off your pain as nothing more than a passing wave of possessiveness. He is completely blind to the fact that his words are ruthlessly tearing apart the only person who ever came to him with an honest, uncalculating heart.