Misty Nights in Hong Kong - Chapter 1

Gu Xiangsi had injured her ex-boyfriend in that place.

On her first job back in the country, her boss forced her to accompany clients for drinks. By sheer misfortune, she ran into her ex-boyfriend there. As she slipped, her knee collided with the most inappropriate spot imaginable.

Half an hour earlier, at Gentry Club in the K11 Musea mall, located at 18 Salisbury Road, Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, Hong Kong.

Gu Xiangsi followed the waiter through the corridor, pushed open the carved double doors, and handed over a folder with both hands. “President Chen, I’m truly sorry… for being late.”

Just as Chen Hui took the folder, the man beside him scoffed. “President Chen, keeping such a beauty hidden away, are we?”

“President Zhao, you flatter me.”

Chen Hui gave a slight nod to the speaker before handing a glass to Gu Xiangsi, signaling for her to follow his lead.

Lowering his voice, he commanded, “Manager Gu, tonight you’re on drink duty. This project is crucial.”

This was her first job since returning home, she still needed it to maintain the facade of a livelihood.

The moment she took the glass, a cold, cutting voice sliced through the clamor of the private room: “So damn noisy.”

The air instantly froze.

She followed the voice and saw a man lounging lazily in the shadows of the corner, his long legs casually crossed, polished shoes resting on the coffee table.

The moment he turned his head, their eyes met.

Gu Xiangsi’s mind went blank. That familiar silhouette from countless dreams, those peach-blossom eyes like whirlpools, just one glance was enough to drag her back into the past.

Her fingers tightened around the glass, trembling slightly, caught off guard by the sudden rush of panic.

Five years had passed, yet his gaze was still like poisoned honey, dangerous and intoxicating.

His eyes lifted slightly, sweeping over her like a fleeting shadow across a frozen lake before he lowered them again.

There was neither the turbulence of a long-awaited reunion nor deliberate indifference, just frost-laced apathy.

He lazily bent the leg resting on the coffee table.

His tone was indifferent. “President Chen, does it really take this long to fetch a contract?”

Chen Hui stiffened, forcing an apologetic smile. “My apologies, President Fu. Manager Gu is new to the company and isn’t very familiar with the business yet.”

“Manager Gu, hurry and offer President Fu a toast.” Chen Hui urged.

Gu Xiangsi’s fingers trembled. Through the sea of clinking glasses, she looked at him, momentarily unable to tell whether it was the chandelier’s glare or the icy aura around him that was more blinding.

“Can you drink?”

That voice, laced with frost, cut through the noise. She watched as his slender fingers idly traced the rim of his glass.

A simple question, yet when spoken by him, it sounded like an interrogation of a prisoner.

Just as Chen Hui stepped forward with an ingratiating smile, Fu Sinian suddenly slammed his glass onto the marble tabletop.

Amid the sharp clink, he lifted his gaze and shot her a glance, one that looked at her as if she were a clown performing for his amusement. He scoffed.

“Her? Is she even worthy?”

Those three light, dismissive words struck her like a blade. Gu Xiangsi stiffened.

Turns out, pain really could conjure hallucinations, she could almost feel those words carving a bloody hole in her chest, cold wind howling through it.

The man who had earlier joked about “keeping a beauty hidden”, Zhao Niesen, grabbed a full bottle of whiskey and slid it across the table with a smirk, clearly here for the show.

“Negotiations require sincerity. How is one glass enough?”

Gu Xiangsi’s face instantly paled. Instinctively, she looked at Fu Sinian, only to find him reclining lazily on the sofa, toying with a lighter in his hand.

Back then, he never let her touch alcohol. Even if she just took a sip, he would frown and take the glass from her, replacing it with juice.

That kind of control was sweet, even giving her the illusion of being cherished.

“What’s the big deal? A little drink won’t hurt!” Zhao Niesen egged on from the side.

Fu Sinian lowered his head slightly, his expression unreadable to everyone.

Her feet felt as heavy as lead, the sharp pain in her heart seeping into every limb.

That step simply wouldn’t come.

Fu Sinian picked up a glass, leaned back on the sofa, and assumed a carefree, almost mocking posture.

Chen Hui grew anxious, seeing Gu Xiangsi standing frozen. He quickly pushed her toward Fu Sinian.

Stumbling, she lost her balance. “Ah!” she gasped, lurching forward. In her panic, she instinctively reached for something to steady herself but ended up crashing onto the sofa.

Her knee accidentally collided with the most awkward spot on a man’s body. A low hiss of pain followed, and only then did she dazedly look up.

The man’s face had lost some color, a thin layer of sweat forming at his temples as he pressed his lips together, staring at her.

Gu Xiangsi looked down and realized her knee was still pressed against the area just below his abdomen. Beneath the fabric, his muscles were taut like stone, coiled with tension.

“I-I’m sorry!” She jerked back, her face burning. Flustered, she tried to retreat but nearly slipped off the sofa again.

She ended up sprawled across his lap, the wine from her glass splashing onto his trousers.

What made it worse was where her left hand had landed.

His well-defined fingers suddenly clamped around her wrist. The man leaned in slightly, his words gritted out between clenched teeth.

“Manager Gu, is this some kind of ‘play hard to get’ act? Don’t you think that’s a bit outdated?”

“I didn’t-”

The more she tried to explain, the messier it got.

He snatched the tissue from her hand.

Raising a brow, he sneered, “Quite the unique way to offer a toast.”

The others noticed the wine stain spreading near Fu Sinian’s crotch, and someone teased, “President Fu’s charm is undeniable. Manager Gu not only got you wet but also threw herself at you.”

A double entendre.

The private room buzzed with mingling men and women, some groping their companions, others laughing with drinks in hand, a few even sneaking glances at the scene.

Gu Xiangsi kept her head low, her face alternating between pale and flushed.

Fu Sinian made no effort to hide his actions as he pressed the tissue against his suit pants to soak up the wine.

Her ears burned, her fingers trembling. She tried to pull her hand back, but his grip only tightened.

Fu Sinian studied her flustered expression, then suddenly smirked, leaning in close to her ear so only she could hear his slow, deliberate words:

“If you broke it, could you afford to compensate me?”

His hot breath brushed her ear, the authority in his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

Gu Xiangsi murmured an apology, her voice barely audible, “How much… should I pay you?”

Pay you?

He lifted his gaze, studying the woman so close yet so distant, familiar yet strange.

Leaning in slightly, his voice dropped to a dangerous, husky whisper:

“Manager Gu, was that hit of yours meant to end my bloodline?”

The laughter in the room died instantly, all eyes turning toward them.

Gu Xiangsi’s ears burned hotter, her fingers curling involuntarily. Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum, “…No… I…”

He scoffed, his thumb brushing over the delicate bone of her wrist.

“Not on purpose?” He released her slowly, a trace of anger flickering in his eyes.

Under the overwhelming pressure, she instinctively nodded.

Fu Sinian leaned back into the sofa, crossing his long legs. A dark stain from spilled wine spread across his suit pants, right at an awkward spot.

He stared at her, the corner of his lips curling into a wicked smirk:

“Tomorrow, bring the contract to my office.”

Gu Xiangxi took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay composed.

“Understood, President Fu.”

Hearing her response, Chen Hui let out a sigh of relief and quickly refilled her glass, signaling her to toast.

The pungent liquid burned down her throat.

She coughed violently, tears welling up in her eyes from the sting.

The others glanced at Fu Sinian, some clicking their tongues, sure enough, the young master of Hong Kong had no concept of chivalry.

Fu Sinian lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable, though the veins on his hand gripping the glass stood out faintly.

Five years had passed. The face she had traced in countless lonely nights was now right before her, sharper, colder, more distant.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the woman’s trembling hand around her glass. As he bent to pick up his own, he merely swirled the liquid inside, his voice low and heavy.

“I don’t like drinking with people who have ulterior motives.”

The chandelier’s light shattered into fragments across his shoulders. When it reached her eyes, what she saw wasn’t the man before her now, but the boy from five years ago, the one who had gripped her wrist in the rain, his voice hoarse as he pleaded, “Don’t go.”

He gazed down at the amber liquid swirling in his glass, his Adam’s apple sliding slowly in the shadows.

“And I certainly don’t need…” Suddenly, he slammed the glass onto the marble countertop with a force that made her flinch.

“…this half-hearted attempt at seduction.”