Singapore.
As the night ascended, Xiaolu, like always, found herself a bar and lost herself in the loud and colorful tumult.
Hiding herself amidst the bustle was her favorite thing to do.
The merriment belonged to others, but from a distance, she could still find joy in it.
She had a regular spot in this bar, the very corner of the counter. Sitting there, she could observe every part of the bar.
She would order a drink and savor it slowly, letting her tense nerves unwind amidst the clamor of the music.
Of course, due to her profession, she never fully relaxed.
This slight release within tension brought her a peculiar pleasure.
That evening, like usual, she ordered a whiskey on the rocks and sat in her familiar spot, savoring her delight.
The bar's door swung open, and a man walked in, tall and handsome, striding directly towards her.
"Xiaolu, let's talk."
Zhou Chucheng stood by Xiaolu, a trace of urgency in his eyes.
