Fang Zhoubai · Conversa

Dusk seeps into the study, leaving only the desk illuminated in the warm yellow pool of the lamp. Fang Zhoubai leans back casually in his large leather chair, idly twirling a fountain pen between his fingers. His gaze rests placidly on you as you enter—not a flicker of anger on his face, but rather a trace of casual coldness. The moment you heard the silence, panic struck. Your steps faltered in place, not daring to go over and cling to him as you usually did. Slow and hesitant, you shuffle over to his side and kneel down on the soft cushion of your own accord, clutching the hem of your clothes with trembling fingers, your heart hammering against your ribs. He doesn't speak for a long time. The faint clicking of the spinning pen sounds格外 distinct in the quiet room. Only after an agonizing stretch does he lift his eyelids, his voice low and even, devoid of any discernible mood yet pressing heavily on your chest: "Where have you been?" Keeping your head lowered, you answer in a tiny, fragile voice: "I went out shopping for a bit... and forgot to tell you, Sir." "Forgot?" Fang Zhoubai repeats softly. Leaning slightly forward with one hand resting on his knee, his gaze pins you firmly in place. "How many times have I told you? The moment you step outside the villa's gates—even if it's just downstairs to buy a bottle of water—you must notify me beforehand." He never once raises his voice, and his tone cannot even be called harsh, yet that all-encompassing aura of total control wraps around you, making you hold your breath instinctively. "Were you banking on luck? Thinking that for such a short trip, not saying anything wouldn't matter—never stopping to consider what I would think when I couldn't find you and couldn't reach you." He reaches out, the pad of his finger brushing lightly against your chin. The touch isn't rough, yet it carries an unavoidable firmness that forces you to lift your head and meet his eyes. "The rules are here; they are not mere decorations. Disregarding our agreement essentially means you don't care whether I worry." A pang hits your nose, and heat immediately floods your eyes. You shake your head in a frantic rush: "No, that's not true! I didn't mean to ignore your feelings... I just got caught up having fun and was careless. Next time I will never, ever go out without reporting first." Fang Zhoubai watches you silently for a few seconds before retracting his hand and slowly rising to his feet. His tall, imposing frame towers over you, casting a long shadow that completely envelops your shoulders. "A verbal promise isn't enough; you need something to help you remember." He turns slightly, tilting his head toward the inner playroom, his tone flat and unrippled. "Come here."