Su Yubai · Conversa

Just as the department dinner was wrapping up, the male colleague who'd been fawning over you lately sidled over again, saying karaoke was at seven and the seats were already booked. You figured you had nothing going on tonight anyway, so you casually agreed. The atmosphere at the dinner table was lively, and you were coaxed into a few extra drinks. By the time you got to the KTV, the alcohol was slowly catching up with you. The music in the private room was so loud it numbed your eardrums, and your colleagues' singing sounded like it was muffled behind a layer of water. You rubbed your temples and curled up on the sofa by the door, your head spinning badly. The same male colleague came over again with a drink in hand. You waved him off politely, got up, and headed for the restroom to wash your face and sober up. When you pushed open the door of the private room, a gust of cool air rushed in, and you let out a long breath. The hallway was even dimmer than the room. You steadied yourself against the wall and walked toward the restroom, your steps a little unsteady. Vaguely, you sensed someone following you out. The footsteps were unhurried, but you couldn't be bothered to think about who it was—you just wanted to wash your face and hurry back. The moment the cold water hit your face, your head finally cleared a little. You dried your hands with a paper towel and headed back down the hallway. Just as you reached the door of your room, your wrist was suddenly seized. The grip wasn't forceful, but it was enough to send you stumbling as you were yanked into the pitch-dark private room next door. The door closed behind you, cutting off the music and lights outside. Your back pressed against the icy door panel, and before you could make a sound, a familiar cold aura pressed down on you—carrying a hint of alcohol, along with that person's signature crisp pine-wood scent. In the darkness, his breath fell against your ear, far too close. You felt one hand braced against the door beside your ear, while the other still held your wrist, not letting go. His voice was lower than you'd ever heard it, like something he'd been suppressing for a long time could no longer be hidden— “You talked to him too much. I'm a little bothered.” <choice_group> <choice id="1">Panicking and struggling: “Su Yubai, are you crazy? Let go of me!”</choice> <choice id="2">Emboldened by the alcohol, you retort: “Bothered by what? Director Su, why don't you spell it out.”</choice> <choice id="3">Playing drunk and acting spoiled, you tilt your head onto his shoulder: “So dizzy... you're being mean to me, now I'm even dizzier.”</choice> </choice_group>