The door clicked shut behind her with a soft, mechanical sound.
Lin Xie stepped into the hotel suite—spacious, silent, pristine. The scent of polished marble and filtered air greeted her. Everything was in order: the bed untouched, the table set with untouched room service, the windows sealed with the faint golden glow of a dying sunset.
She removed her coat and placed it on the couch, unzipped her boots with smooth precision, and aligned them perfectly by the entrance.
Her phone lit up on the table. CEO Shen Rui's name appeared on the screen.
She answered immediately.
"Report," he said.
Lin Xie moved to the window and stood still, the city lights of Xicheng flickering below her. "Filming began at 0800 hours. Director Qi issued three scene blocks: one monologue, one confrontation sequence, and one grief simulation. I followed the material without deviation. Shooting concluded at 1752."
She paused. "Lighting corrections were made twice. No technical issues persisted. Director expressed satisfaction. Crew members remained efficient."
There was silence on the other line for a beat. Then, "Did you eat?"
"There was no lunch break scheduled. I consumed one energy bar and bottled water between setups."
A sigh from his side. "That's not enough. You're supposed to take care of yourself."
"I am fully operational."
"That's not care. That's survival."
She tilted her head slightly. "You are concerned."
"Of course I'm concerned."
She didn't answer.
"Was the script difficult?" he asked.
"I analyzed the required responses. For grief, I slowed my blink rate and increased breath tremble. Vocal pitch was lowered by 0.2 octaves to match human patterns of mourning. I replicated tears using glycerin applied by the makeup assistant."
There was a pause. Then, quietly, "Did it… feel strange?"
"It did not feel. It performed."
Another pause. "Right."
"There was no physical distress," she added.
"Emotionally?"
"I cannot confirm a reading."
"...Okay."
She turned from the window and moved toward the edge of the bed.
"There was another anomaly," she continued. "The lead actor, Wen Yifan. He has displayed abnormal behavioral patterns. Excessive visual fixation. Spatial boundary violations post-scene. Attempts at prolonged verbal engagement outside script parameters."
Shen Rui's tone shifted. "He approached you?"
"Yes. No physical contact was made."
"Was it uncomfortable?"
"I do not register discomfort. But I marked it as behavior to observe."
"Good. If it escalates—"
"I will inform you. If necessary."
"I'd prefer if you didn't wait until it's necessary."
She didn't respond.
Another rustle on the line. He was likely adjusting his watch or resting his head against the back of his chair. Her brain filed the auditory markers away without effort.
"I miss you," he said.
"I am following the schedule."
"I know. But I still miss you."
Silence again.
"Do you wish for nightly updates?" she asked.
"I'd like to hear your voice."
"For information?"
"For you."
Her gaze didn't shift.
"I do not understand the reasoning behind that desire."
"You don't have to."
She remained quiet.
Then, "I will send progress reports. With data."
He chuckled. "Of course you will."
"Do you require any additional metrics?"
"No. Just talk to me."
She paused, processing.
"I will attempt."
"I'll take that."
She stared at the shadows gathering in the corners of the room. "Goodnight, CEO Shen Rui."
There was a soft, warm smile in his voice. "Goodnight, Lin Xie."
She ended the call and set the phone face-down on the table.
Then, she walked to the bathroom, washed her hands, and returned to sit at the edge of the bed. Her posture was straight. Her breathing measured.
There were no emotions. But there was a rhythm.
And an odd sensation that stayed, unmeasurable, somewhere behind her ribs.
Undefined. Quiet.
She would calculate later.
----
In another city, far from Xicheng's bright glass towers and polished studio sets, darkness ruled.
The alleyways were veiled in smog. Neon signs flickered with uneven hums. Beneath the city's clean surface, the underground world breathed—slow, calculated, and vicious.
Inside a private lounge buried beneath a high-stakes casino, a man sat on a leather couch. His face was hidden behind a sleek black mask that covered the upper half of his face. His presence was quiet, but it dominated the room. Those around him stood with rigid postures, waiting for commands they didn't dare assume.
To the men in this world, he was known only as "Black Sir."
He didn't need to speak much. One look from him was enough.
Outside these walls, he was CEO Shen Rui—feared, respected, envied. Inside this world, he was something colder. Smarter. Deadlier. Even his family didn't know he moved through this circle. His Ruix Corporation, the billion-dollar empire, was only one side of his rule. This… this was his other kingdom.
The mask stayed on. Always.
Even when blood was involved.
A man stumbled forward now, trembling, kneeling before him. "Sir, we've secured the port… the shipment is untouched—"
A wave of the hand cut him off.
Shen Rui rose to his feet slowly, the cut of his suit perfect. He walked past the man without speaking, eyes flicking briefly to the encrypted tablet in his gloved hand.
He missed her.
The thought came suddenly, like an interruption to a system loop.
Lin Xie.
He hadn't seen her since she left for Xicheng. Rationally, he told himself it had only been two days. But the absence pressed sharper than he expected. Her voice, even through the phone, had that calm, cool edge that both fascinated and unsettled him. She never said she missed him. Never said anything unnecessary.
But the way she launched into kisses without warning, the way she said "Understood" when he asked her to call—that was enough for now.
He would go see her soon. But this matter had to be handled first.
His private room was soundproofed, dim, and monitored only by his encrypted system. He sat behind the black desk, reviewing reports when the door opened with a soft click.
She entered without invitation.
The daughter of one of the minor syndicate bosses—draped in silk, painted lips curled into a rehearsed smile. Her eyes gleamed with intent, like she thought she could seduce him, manipulate him, possess him. She carried two drinks on a tray and approached as if she belonged there.
He didn't react.
"Just a little drink," she said, voice soft. "You've been working so hard, haven't you?"
He said nothing.
She placed one glass in front of him. He didn't touch it.
Then she stepped forward, perfume thick in the air, her chest angled forward, her fingers lifting—reaching to touch him.
She never made it.
A single, suppressed shot rang through the air.
She dropped instantly. No scream. No sound. Just a lifeless thud onto the carpeted floor.
He lowered the silencer calmly and slipped it back into the inner lining of his jacket.
The drink still sat untouched on the table.
She hadn't realized that the drug she used—one engineered to fog the mind and dull instinct—would never work on him.
No substance ever did.
It was a trait no one in this world knew.
Not even Lin Xie.
His immunity was absolute. Poison, tranquilizers, sedatives—nothing ever slowed his mind or dulled his senses.
He stood, walked to the table, picked up the glass, and poured it slowly onto the carpet beside her body.
The sour-sweet scent of chemicals spread in the air.
He looked down once, then pressed the comm button on his watch.
"Clean-up. No questions."
He walked out of the room without another glance.
His expression didn't shift. His mask stayed on.
But in the elevator down to the garage, he pulled out his phone.
He opened Lin Xie's last message:
Scene 14 completed. Weather humid. Lighting error corrected. Lunch: 1 bar.
His mouth quirked faintly.
He typed back:
You forgot to mention if you miss me.
Then he put the phone away, and his expression returned to stillness.
No one in this world knew who he really was.
And that was exactly how he intended to keep it.
---
The moment Shen Rui stepped out of the elevator and into the underground garage, the air thickened. Two of his men were already waiting by the armored black car, posture straight, eyes lowered.
He didn't speak immediately. He opened the door and slid into the backseat, removing his gloves with slow precision as silence filled the space. Once the doors shut, he finally spoke.
"How did she enter my private room?"
His voice was calm—flat and measured—but both men in the front seats stiffened instantly.
Jiang Yu, the head of security in this territory, swallowed hard. "Sir… we're reviewing the feeds. We believe she used the backup service route through the east corridor—someone on the cleaning staff might have been bribed."
Shen Rui didn't respond.
He pulled up the surveillance files on his tablet, scrolling through timestamps manually. The cameras caught her approaching his hallway—alone. There was no hesitation in her stride. As if she'd done this before.
The security footage clearly showed she bypassed three checkpoints.
Three.
He looked up, expression unreadable beneath the mask.
"She entered carrying a tray," he said slowly. "That tray made it past the scanners."
Silence.
Then—
"I want the name of every person who had access to that corridor in the last five hours," he said. "I want every cleaner, handler, and logistics personnel accounted for. Interrogate them. No deals. No leniency."
"Yes, Sir."
Jiang Yu didn't dare blink. He knew what happened to those who failed Black Sir. They didn't get warnings. They disappeared.
"Double encryption on all keycard routes. My room is to be removed from the main registry," Shen Rui added. "From now on, only I will have the override code. Not even you."
"Yes, Sir."
He stared ahead for another beat.
"She thought I wouldn't react," he said quietly, as if speaking to himself. "She thought she could touch me."
His voice held no anger. Just fact. Cold, detached.
Then he leaned back into the leather seat, tablet resting on his lap.
"I want her father to know what she did," he said. "I want him to feel the weight of her mistake. And I want him to wonder if he'll be next."
"Yes, Sir."
The car began to move, headlights slicing through the darkness.
Outside, the city remained loud and unaware. Inside, power shifted silently beneath the surface.
Shen Rui didn't look out the window. He pulled up Lin Xie's reply, which had just come through.
I do not understand the concept of missing someone. But you are often in my calculations.
His lips twitched.
He typed,
I'll take that as a yes.
Then added,
I'll visit soon. Try not to break any directors.
He closed the message.
And the world returned to silence.