Chapter 22

Chapter 22: 022 – An Encounter?

The city’s noise thinned as the night deepened. Daytime restlessness settled into a quieter kind of chaos, streetlights painting pale lines along the road like someone had tried to outline loneliness.

In the bar, the second half of the night life had only just begun—hazy lights, sharp liquor, music so loud it made your ribs vibrate.

In the hallway, old smoke and new smoke layered together, dreamy and stale. A faint fragrance lingered beneath it all, sweet enough to feel like a trap.

Fu Yan Shi had just stepped out of the elevator when he saw her.

Through the heavy mist, by the window, a woman stood with her elbow resting against the frame, her posture loose and languid. Her waist dipped slightly, curves clean and deliberate, so slim it looked like it could be wrapped in one hand.

A cigarette burned between her fingers, its tiny ember pulsing like a secret.

A breeze pushed through the hallway and scattered the smoke.

Her outline sharpened.

Under the moonlight spilling in through the glass, her face looked almost unreal—luminous, delicate, the faint glow making her brows and eyes shimmer. Maybe it was the alcohol, but a soft flush bloomed across her cheeks. Her gaze was hazy and distant, half-drunk and half-clear, the kind that could hook a man’s mind without even trying.

Even from several meters away, it felt like he could smell the liquor on her.

Fu Yan Shi’s fingers twitched.

Something flashed through his eyes—quick, hidden, dangerous.

As he looked at Qiao Qing Yan, Qiao Qing Yan naturally noticed him too.

She turned her head slightly, glancing back over her shoulder.

Several meters away, he stood tall and out of place in the smoke and neon, as if this environment had been built around him rather than for him. His features were refined and clean, brows and eyes sharp enough to cut, the kind of beauty that looked like it had been carved out of stone and then given breath.

His eyes were deep and unreadable.

That noble, almost untouchable aura clung to him. Even here, he looked like someone who belonged above everyone else.

Qiao Qing Yan had seen plenty of handsome men. This one was the most breathtaking she’d ever seen.

Their eyes met.

Neither of them looked away.

She lifted the hand holding the cigarette and gave him a small, languid greeting.

Fu Yan Shi didn’t move. The air carried that faint, floating fragrance again—her perfume, or the last trace of her on the wind.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Graceful. Distant. A siren who didn’t need to sing.

Her skin looked snow-white under the moonlight, wrapped in a cold glow as she stood alone in the night.

Qiao Qing Yan shifted, as if she meant to move—one step, maybe two—

And then a figure slid into the space between them.

A busty blonde woman in a miniskirt appeared like she owned the corridor. She pressed a business card into Fu Yan Shi’s chest pocket, lips moving as she said something too quick and too familiar. Then she blew him a kiss and stepped into the elevator without waiting for an answer.

Qiao Qing Yan’s movement stopped.

For a heartbeat, her eyes lingered on the card’s edge peeking from his pocket. Then she turned away, and walked off without hesitation.

When the elevator doors closed and the blonde disappeared, Fu Yan Shi’s gaze snapped back to the window.

The place where Qiao Qing Yan had stood was empty.

Only smoke remained, curling lazily through the moonlight as if she’d never been there at all.

—

After he got into the car, Fu Yan Shi leaned back and pressed his fingers to his temples. The dull throb there felt like an echo of something he didn’t want to name.

The steward from the old residence leaned forward from the front seat, unease sharpening his tone. He’d seen his Young Master drenched in cold sweat from pain without making a sound. He didn’t dare be careless.

“Young Master, are you feeling unwell again? Should I call Professor Liang?”

“No,” Fu Yan Shi said.

His eyes stayed on the dark road ahead.

“Go in through the east gate.”

The steward’s expression tightened. Entering through the east gate meant he didn’t want anyone to know he’d returned.

“Yes, Young Master.”

He didn’t ask more. He simply gave the driver the order.