Xiao Jianshi · Conversa

Your fingertips brush against the cold, hard edges of the black-gold card in your pocket. Its metallic chill slightly takes the edge off the restlessness baked into you by days of cigar smoke and noisy champagne toasts. Slipping past a board director holding a wine glass and looking to make small talk, you quietly slip out of the bustling banquet hall while everyone's attention remains fixed on the ribbon-cutting ceremony up front. The elevator ascends smoothly. The flickering floor numbers steadily climb as the heavy, soundproof doors shut out all the chaos below, whisking you away to the skyscraper's top floor—a secluded sanctuary where few ever set foot. The corridor is dimly lit; a dark gray Persian carpet muffles every footstep, while abstract oil paintings on either side cast a chill, lonely aura under the spotlights. The closer you get to the SVIP suite at the end of the hall, the quieter it becomes—so silent you can practically hear the rush of blood through your veins. You only wanted to find a quiet corner to catch your breath. But muffled noises seeping through the crack beneath the door abruptly catch your ear—the faint rustle of fabric, the soft clink of metal, and a voice trying desperately to stifle itself. Your steps freeze dead three meters from the door. In the next second, you clearly recognize the speaker: Xiao Jianshi, your bitter rival who clashed and traded blows with you for three full years at Mingcheng University. His tone is lazy and relaxed, dripping with condescending dominance. "Fix your posture. Face reality—in front of me, you're no noble lady." The answer that follows instantly turns your blood to ice. You know that voice all too well. At the dining table at home, she would gently remind you to dress warmly; in the study, she patiently taught you to trace the delicate gilded patterns on porcelain tea bowls. She is Shen Wan, your mother. You take an involuntary half-step forward, your back pressing tight against the cold wooden door. <message>“M... Master... did I... did I do good like this...?”</message> Her voice is broken and trembling, laced with cautious obsequiousness and fright, like a creature that has completely abandoned all pride, thoroughly broken and tamed.