The coffee shop closed at nine in the evening. Bai Qinglin pulled down the power switch, and the shop was instantly plunged into darkness. He put on his coat, the cigarette between his fingers flickering faintly. His phone in his pocket rang just at that moment.
“Old Bai, I’m heading to Nanhai the day after tomorrow. Can I crash in your guest room?”
“Sure.”
Yue Chuan, his neighbor for many years and a master of banter, chuckled. “Damn, you agreed so easily. You really don’t have someone stashed away in there, do you?”
Bai Qinglin couldn’t be bothered to respond, glancing up at the third-floor balcony across the street.
“Alright, I won’t hold my breath waiting for you to loosen up and find a partner. So, how many youngsters have you shot down lately?”
Bai Qinglin replied, “Don’t remember.”
“Badass.”
“…”
Yue Chuan clicked his tongue. “What’s your type, anyway? Someone pure but wild in bed—would that do it for you?”
Bai Qinglin walked along Ginkgo Avenue. “How long are you staying?”
“Depends on my mood. I’m on leave until the New Year. Planning to slack off in Nanhai. Gotta hit every bar in your area, one by one.”
“Got it.” The word “bar” effortlessly brought Zhu Jingru to Bai Qinglin’s mind. After hanging up, he pulled the piece of paper with the drawing of his bound hands from his trench coat pocket.
With a casual motion, he lit it with his cigarette. The flame grew slowly, illuminating his pale wrist.
Bai Qinglin calmly watched it burn to ashes, his Adam’s apple shifting under his collar as he exhaled a smoke ring. Then he turned and walked away.
The ashes scattered in the wind, vanishing without a trace.
Meanwhile, Zhu Jingru was in a private room brewing tea, looking composed and at ease, though in reality, he barely noticed how many times he’d scalded himself with the hot water.
During the day, he’d made a bold move, fully exposing his intentions, likely enough to make anyone back off.
But he wanted to take the gamble.
Huang Chen knocked and entered. “Boss, I sent you the address for tomorrow’s dinner. A-Yin said she told her boss too.”
Zhu Jingru turned his head. “He might not show up.”
“Huh?”
“Thanks anyway.” Zhu Jingru calculated that Bai Qinglin would already be home by now and sent a message.
Good. No red exclamation mark.
Zhu Jingru let out a muffled laugh, slowly rubbing the ring on his finger. He was like an unrepentant gambler, and this time, he’d won by sheer luck, feeling both delighted and thrilled.
He figured Bai Qinglin hadn’t blocked him because of the coffee bean shipments.
Business ties were indeed useful, and this fishing game was all about the thrill.
The next day, Zhu Jingru still didn’t go to the coffee shop. By noon, colleagues who got along well with Huang Chen and Tong Yin had filled a large table, with two head seats left empty, reserved specifically for Bai Qinglin and Zhu Jingru.
Tong Yin and Huang Chen speculated whether both men would skip the event.
In fact, Zhu Jingru arrived late, heading straight for the restaurant’s smoking area without a second thought.
In the corridor, where light and shadow intertwined, the two men locked eyes, neither speaking for a moment.
Zhu Jingru was the first to approach Bai Qinglin, closing the distance. Bai Qinglin stood still, tall and mature, his face radiating an unapproachable coldness. He didn’t speak, merely observing as Zhu Jingru held a cigarette of the same brand as his own between his lips.
So far, the things this man was doing weren’t entirely off-putting. That was all.
Zhu Jingru’s peach-blossom eyes reflected Bai Qinglin’s face. “Brother Bai, got a light?”
When Zhu Jingru spoke, Bai Qinglin obliged.
He leaned down, using the glowing tip of his cigarette to ignite the one inches away.
“The light’s fine, but the person’s off-limits,” Bai Qinglin said, his tone flat, devoid of emotion, so calm it barely sounded like a rejection. He let the smoke drifting from his nose be inhaled by Zhu Jingru, his gaze unreservedly scrutinizing. His pale face contrasted with his dark pupils, and his few understated words gave the listener the illusion of being warned.
“I’m not interested in you, got it?”
