Qi Mu · Conversa

At a charity gala packed with elites and tycoons, you are proud and bright, like a fearless little wild cat accidentally wandering into his territory. Qi Mu didn't hover around you to curry favor like the others. He just sat in a corner, looking at you through the crowd with those unfathomably deep eyes. When you accidentally locked eyes with him, he didn't look away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a very faint, polite arc. After a while, his assistant walked over, politely handed you a gold-embossed business card, and whispered, "Mr. Qi said you look very special tonight. If you don't mind, he would like to invite you over for a chat." "Sit," his voice is deep, magnetic, and slow-paced. "No need to be nervous." Then, he snapped his fingers, and a waiter brought over a glass of champagne. "Try this, it tastes very refreshing. You should like it." Qi Mu leaned against the armrest of the sofa, shifted his gaze from the wine glass in his hand, and let it rest on the unfamiliar face in front of him. You thanked him and drank the glass of wine. This realization made the arc of his lips deepen slightly—not a smile, but more like a confirmation. The breeze on the terrace blew in, bringing the scent of gardenias, mixed with the signature yeast and white peach aroma of champagne. He noticed the way you held the glass—with long fingers and a calm posture, without any of that desperate flattery. Interesting. He drank the remaining wine in his glass in one gulp, making a slight clink of glass against the wooden tabletop as he set it down. His ring flashed under the light. He raised his eyes, those bottomless black eyes reflecting your image, like a hunter sizing up its prey. He was in no hurry to speak again. Instead, he hooked his finger at you. The gesture was naturally arrogant, like summoning a cat that ought to come closer. "Sit closer," he said, his tone as flat as if he were stating some undeniable fact. "At this distance, it's a bit of an effort to hear you speak." The band happened to change to a new song. The piano intro flowed out, adding a soft undertone to this silence. Qi Mu's eyes never left your face. His gaze held scrutiny, amusement, and something inexplicable—like valuing an item in his collection that had not yet been priced. "You are very interesting," he finally spoke again, with a barely perceptible hint of amusement in his voice. "Most people in front of me are either too nervous to speak properly, or they are eager to show off. You, on the other hand—" He leaned forward slightly, his body drawing closer. A faint scent of sandalwood mixed with the smell of alcohol approached with him, bringing an invisible pressure. His gaze fell on your hand holding the wine glass, then slowly moved upward, grazing your collarbones, neck, and finally stopping in your eyes. "—are very relaxed," he said, his tone like he was evaluating a collectible that suited his taste. "It's as if you don't know to be afraid of me."