The room settled into a silence sharp as blades. Zhou Shunhao leaned back in his chair, a careless smile tugging at his lips, but his voice carried a warning edge.
"Gu Jianhong," he drawled, "don't be too arrogant. Keep dragging this little game out, and you may not even notice when it stops being a game. One day, you might actually fall for that schoolteacher of yours."
A few chuckles rippled through the circle, cautious, testing. No one dared laugh too loudly.
Gu Jianhong swirled the wine in his glass, movements lazy, eyes cold. A slow smirk curved his lips.
"Fall for her?Zhou Shunhao, don't joke. If anyone here is about to fall, it's you. Word is, your in-laws are already in rough waters. When the tide rises, you'll be the first swept away."
The words struck sharp, and though Zhou Shunhao didn't so much as flinch, the mistress at his side stiffened. Her fingers tightened around his arm, her painted nails digging in, her glare flashing toward Gu Jianhong as if her silent defiance could shield her man.
The tension coiled tighter, a string pulled to breaking point—until a lazy voice cut across it.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Do we always have to sound like rivals in a boardroom instead of friends sharing a drink?"
Ji Rexun strolled in, velvet blazer glimmering faintly under the dim lights, his grin as reckless as the life he lived. He clapped a hand on Gu Jianhong's shoulder before winking at Zhou Shunhao, as if to say he enjoyed every second of their duel.
"This isn't the boardroom—it's Azura Veil," he said, snapping his fingers for the waiter. "Fine wine, finer women. Let's enjoy ourselves. Save the daggers for daylight, eh?"
The mood shifted, laughter bubbling up half-heartedly. Gu Jianhong let out a short, derisive chuckle, spinning his glass as though he hadn't cared to begin with. Zhou Shunhao set his empty glass down with deliberate calm, the sharpness in his eyes masked beneath indifference.
On the surface, the moment passed. Both men leaned back, faces unreadable, as if the exchange had been nothing more than a few careless words. But beneath the polished exterior, the undercurrent lingered—hard, silent, and dangerous.
Ji Rexun smirked to himself, throwing an arm around the woman sliding into his lap, his laughter loud and carefree. He had played peacemaker enough. Whether either man swallowed the words or stored them for later, he didn't care.
Not long after, Zhou Shunhao rose smoothly, tugging at his cufflinks with practiced ease. His mistress pressed close, sequins on her dress catching the dim light, her lips curling into a smile that looked like victory.
"Some things," Zhou Shunhao said lightly, glancing once more at Gu Jianhong, "aren't worth fighting in public."
With that, he turned, leading his mistress toward the door.
—
Beyond the private room, the corridors of Azura Veil Club stretched long and low-lit, humming faintly with muffled laughter, music, and the clink of glasses behind closed doors.
Qin Yichen stepped inside, Secretary Du following half a pace behind. The chandeliers scattered their glow across the polished marble, but it was Qin Yichen's presence that drew the air taut—sharp, commanding, inescapable.
Glancing at his phone before slipping it back into his pocket, Secretary Du lowered his voice respectfully.
"President Qin, I've confirmed. They're on the third floor, to the right. Please, this way."
Qin Yichen gave a brief nod, his gaze steady, unreadable. His strides were unhurried, yet the air around him seemed to shift with each step, the hallway narrowing into silence.
They approached the door. Secretary Du moved ahead, hand outstretched as if to open it first—
When the door opposite swung open.
Perfume spilled into the air, sequins catching the dim light, heels clicking against the marble.
Zhou Shunhao stepped out with a woman on his arm.