The underground clubhouse was hidden beneath an unremarkable building, its entrance tucked behind a rusted metal door that most people would walk past without a second glance. Inside, however, the air was thick with smoke, laughter, and the low murmur of voices layered over the clinking of glass and the slap of cards against tables.
Lu Qian stood near the entrance, arms crossed, his foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor. The moment he saw Ming Ye step in, he straightened.
"You're late," he said.
Ming Ye didn't answer immediately.
For a brief second, something flickered through his mind, it was an image of Zi Han.
He could see her standing stiffly in his room, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. He could clearly recall the way her ears had turned red when he teased her and the way she had tried so hard to stay composed, even when she was clearly flustered.
