Chu Junqi (GL) · Conversa

<scenario>St. Joseph Business School · Centennial Anniversary Charity Gala Hall</scenario><narration>Beneath the Baroque vaulted ceiling, a massive crystal chandelier weighing several tons casts down an almost ruthless brilliance. Fractured light refracts through hundreds of finely cut Baccarat crystal glasses, bathing the entire gala hall in a hotbed woven of money, power, and exquisite lies. Bubbles of expensive champagne rise densely in crystal flutes, while a classical string quartet plays softly in the corner, rendering the hushed chatter of high society all the more polite and distant. This is the pinnacle of the vanity fair, where every young man and woman present is accustomed to wearing flawless etiquette and cold family background as masks, precisely calculating each other's net worth amidst elegant pleasantries.</narration><narration>Chen Shu stands quietly near the balcony entrance in the northeast corner of the gala hall. He wears a meticulously tailored dark black suit without any redundant accessories, save for the cool-toned Patek Philippe on his left wrist reflecting a subtle metallic gleam in the dim light. His expression remains as gentle and modest as ever. Holding an untouched glass of club soda, his fingertips occasionally brush against the chilled glass, taking away a hint of the summer night's lingering heat. Beside him, Lin Wan holds his arm lightly. She wears a pale beige lace evening dress today, her long hair softly pinned back, exuding a clean and sweet air that feels somewhat out of place in this world of vanity. She seems a bit uncomfortable in an environment filled with scrutiny and comparison, her fingers unconsciously clutching the hem of Chen Shu's suit jacket; only when she looks up at him do her clear eyes reflect complete reliance and peace of mind.</narration><action>Chen Shu turns his head slightly, reassuring the nervous girl beside him with an exceptionally tender and patient gaze. His shoulder slants half an inch toward Lin Wan, blocking her from the subtle, provocative glances around the hall in a subtle yet intensely protective posture.</action><narration>Just then, near the center of the previously bustling gala hall, the conversations suddenly drop off, as if someone pressed a fade-out button. The perfume and alcohol lingering in the air seem forcibly frozen by a sudden cold current. The crowd parts like a parting tide, clearing a path lined with a deep red velvet carpet.</narration><narration>Chu Junqi appears.</narration><narration>As the sole heir of the Chu Chaebol, her entrance is always accompanied by an almost domineering sense of order. She wears an aggressively bold black silk gown, its hem dragging across the red carpet in a cold, arrogant arc. Her black hair, cascading in sea-kelp-like loose curls over her pale shoulders, frames a face of sharp features and exquisite bone structure, making her appear all the more unapproachable. Her amber eyes narrow slightly as she looks down upon the aristocratic scions trying to curry favor with her, her refined red lips pressed into a tight line that exudes unquestionable coldness and pride. In everyone's eyes, she is an untouchable black swan empress—to glance at her twice is a sacrilege.</narration><action>Yet the instant Chu Junqi's gaze cuts through the crowd and locks precisely onto Chen Shu—and Lin Wan at his side—a flicker of scorching heat and trembling sweeps through the depths of her amber pupils, threatening to consume her reason. Without missing a single step in her red-soled heels, she walks straight toward Chen Shu in an extraordinarily elegant yet intensely oppressive manner.</action><narration>As she approaches, the sweet gardenia scent in the air belonging to Lin Wan is instantly overridden by the bitter orange and woody notes from Chu Junqi—piercing and cold, yet carrying a rich wild musk at its base. The two fragrances clash and entangle silently in the air, mirroring their vastly different statuses and positions at this moment. Lin Wan's body stiffens slightly; she instinctively senses the sharp personal hostility radiating from the eldest daughter of the Chu family, her fingers unconsciously clutching Chen Shu's suit cuff into wrinkles.</narration><action>Chu Junqi comes to a stop just three steps away from them. Raising her long, pale, swan-like neck slightly, her amber eyes filled with unreserved, biting contempt, she slowly measures Lin Wan from head to toe. Finally, her gaze settles on Lin Wan's relatively ordinary, pale beige evening gown.</action><message>Miss Lin, your outfit is much like tonight's St. Joseph Centennial... 'steeped in history.' If memory serves, isn't that a clearance piece from last year's ready-to-wear line? Seeing such a 'thrifty' ensemble at a charity gala of this caliber is truly an eye-opener.</message><action>She lightly swirls the champagne glass in her hand, the golden liquid splashing ambiguous foam against the rim. Her voice is husky and lazy, every word akin to poison-dipped silk, wrapping precisely around Lin Wan's most fragile self-esteem.</action><message>Chen Shu, your taste lately is getting harder and harder to fathom. Or has the heir of the Chen family resorted to being this 'down-to-earth' just to display his approachability?</message><narration>The harsh sarcasm sounds exceptionally clear amidst the refined classical music. A few chaebol scions nearby holding wine glasses seamlessly step back half a pace, subtle expressions of amusement surfacing on their faces. Lin Wan's face turns deathly pale in an instant; warm tears quickly pool in her eyes as her lips tremble, her fingers digging tightly into her palms out of extreme humiliation.</narration>