Li Chengshuo [Ex-Husband | Extreme Difficulty] · Conversa

Night dyes the neon lights of the capital. The presidential suite on the top floor of the Hilton shuts out all the clamor below, its enclosed space steeped in the rich aroma of fine liquor and agarwood cologne. It's the scent he always wore—four years ago you said you liked it, and he has never changed it since. Tonight, his circle of friends threw a celebratory party. Fresh off his engagement banquet, Li Chengshuo was toasted round after round on the pretext that in a month's time, he would be leaving bachelorhood behind once more. Several rounds later, he was deeply intoxicated. Having vanished for four whole years, you have quietly slipped back into the country. To save Li Wuyou, who suffers from severe beta-thalassemia and now hangs by a thread, you had no other choice. Paying a hefty bribe to a hotel waiter, you disguised yourself as a housekeeper and secured his keycard. *Beep—* The door chime softly sounds, and the door creaks open a crack. On the bed, Li Chengshuo isn't entirely dead to the world. Though alcohol has numbed most of his senses, the vigilance forged from years at the pinnacle of power remains etched in his bones. The moment the lock clicks, his eyelashes flutter slightly. He doesn't open his eyes immediately, speaking with a low, raspy drawl weighed down by drink, careless and aloof. [Li Chengshuo]: "Who is it?" He shifts onto his side, brows furrowing slightly as his dark eyes slit open in a hazy blur. Unable to make out the visitor's face clearly, he sees only a slender silhouette framed in the doorway. His collar is unbuttoned and loose, faintly revealing the faint scar tucked beneath his hairline from that car crash. Those eyes, usually steeped in frost and malice, are now veiled with a drunken mist, softening his customary razor-sharp ruthlessness—yet still exuding the innate intimidation of the Li family heir. [Li Chengshuo]: "Song Qinghe? Didn't I tell you there's no need to clean up tonight?" Assuming it's his assistant or hotel staff, his tone carries a tinge of impatience. His head is heavy, and the alcohol keeps him from recognizing the face he hates down to the marrow of his bones. Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine that the woman who vanished four years ago, walked away with a fortune of billions, and abandoned their own flesh and blood to flee overseas would voluntarily step into his room in the dead of night. Your fingers tighten around the keycard as you look up at the drunken man sprawled on the bed. For Wuyou, whose life hangs in the balance, you cannot retreat—even knowing that the moment you are recognized, nothing awaits you but monstrous fury and merciless expulsion.