Physical contact heats feelings fastest. Hormones surge, weaving illusions easy to sink into. Lin An walked Su Yuejin to the bar restroom door, then stepped in himself.

He washed his hands, pulled out an extra tissue, and waited. When she emerged, he offered it—but she gave him a coy smile and simply held out her hand.

Lin An understood. Gently, he dabbed the water from her fingers. A slender silver ring adorned her pinky—minimalist, yet lovely.

He dried her hands thoroughly. Returning, he merely held her hand to steady her—proper, fingers untouched. Yet as they reached the sofa, Su Yuejin felt a flicker of disappointment.

She hid it well. Just a tiny sting of frustration. Lin An shook the dice. Their game turned even; half the drinks were gone.

“Let’s rest a moment,” Su Yuejin said, watching his clear, obedient expression. Irritation flared—for no clear reason.

She’d seen drunk people bare their raw selves. But this boy? Her intuition whispered: this wasn’t him. Just a cocoon.

No denying it—a woman’s intuition cuts deep.

“Pretty?” she murmured close to his ear. When Lin An gave a slight nod, she nipped his earlobe. A shiver ran through him.

She pulled back, mischief dancing in her eyes. *I knew it. Playing the innocent angel. His mind’s surely racing like anyone else’s.*

That tiny triumph thrilled her. Though her head swam slightly—alcohol’s gentle haze, the very reason many savor the drink.

She guided his hand to her waist. He hesitated, grip light. Then, breath warm against his ear, voice dripping allure: “Hold me.”

His arms wrapped around her firmly.

Su Yuejin smiled, triumphant.

His palms met smooth fabric, the delicate curve of her waist—flat, taut. Playfully, he tickled her side.

She turned, a teasing smirk on her lips. Only then did Lin An flush with faint embarrassment—confirming her theory.

*People only show what they want seen. To make someone guess… that’s how you make them believe.*

Right?

Then Lin An spoke softly: “Su Yuejin… are you upset?”

She froze. “Why ask?”

“Just a feeling. Maybe nonsense… Hope you’re okay.” He sounded flustered by his own concern.

She smiled. His earnestness was oddly cute. And true.

“Yeah. I’m not happy.”

“But I won’t say why.” Her voice turned icy—a deliberate chill, starkly unlike moments ago when she’d clung to his hand.

A sudden frost. Walls rising.

She wanted to see disappointment. She saw a trace—but little. Instead, Lin An replied gently: “I won’t press. But if you can’t handle more, please stop. Waking up nauseous… it’s miserable.”

Su Yuejin paused. Mockery edged her tone: “I know my limit. I’d never get drunk out here. Places like this… aren’t safe.”

“Mm. Glad to hear it.”

“So… continue?” she challenged.

“Go easy on me. I’m clumsy,” Lin An said with a wry smile. Yet luck favored him. She kept losing. Kept drinking.

If time rewound, he’d wish for worse luck. Maybe things wouldn’t have turned so… strange.

But Su Yuejin grew tipsy, leaning fully into his arms. Lin An held her waist—secure, respectful, hands perfectly still.

EDM pulsed. The old track “Let Me Love You” swirled through neon haze.

Her eyes stayed open, stealing glances. He watched the dancers, faint confusion in his gaze—as if wondering how anyone moved so freely under these lights.

Suddenly, she sat up, prompting him to loosen his hold. Unfazed, she cupped his face.

“Bored… how about… a kiss?”

A wild thought coiled in her heart. Just a tease—if he agreed, she’d leave. End the game.

He shook his head.

“You’re drunk, Su Yuejin.”

“I’m not.” Her smile bloomed like a night flower.

Lin An’s voice softened: “Kissing someone I’ve known less than a day… it clashes with my beliefs. I understand. But I can’t.”

She laughed wildly, gripping his shoulders—foolishly, recklessly. Unseen, Lin An watched, eyes cold.

“Do you believe in love?” Tears glistened at her lashes—laughter or sorrow, unclear.

Lin An nodded gently. “I do.”

“Not all love fulfills. Deception, betrayal, death… they happen silently, screaming, moaning in these glittering nights.” He voiced her unspoken words. Left her breathless.

“But that doesn’t stop belief. I’ll meet someone. Love her wholly. She’ll love me back. Independent souls, yet each other’s pillar.”

Su Yuejin listened blankly, then scoffed. “My parents? Father defied everything—even became a live-in son-in-law—for Mother.”

“Now? He’s never home. Different women every night. Mother keeps handsome boys your age. Rarely home either.”

“People change. Love’s just a vine born of emotion. Blooms wild… then withers after summer.”

Her tone dripped scorn. Lin An took her hand, earnest. “That’s their path. They loved you wholly. Maybe love fades…”

“But even without love, they uphold each other. Love tires. What remains is shared responsibility. Like fireworks—they fade, but I love their brilliant bloom. I want real fireworks. Not fake flowers. Perfect forever… but hollow.”

“We see things differently. But be happy. Only the selfish stay light. Care for yourself.” He ruffled her hair—surprisingly soft.

“So you’re selfish?”

“Yeah.”

“But you stayed. After that martini… you were leaving, right?”

He nodded.

“Why stay?”

“You seemed upset. Drinking alone isn’t safe. I thought… I’d watch over you. Going home was just sleep anyway.”

“Not because I’m pretty?”

“Partly. But no. Your personality’s kind… just not my type.”

“What type do you think I am?!” Her voice sharpened, defensive.

His gentleness disarmed her. He hadn’t insulted her—just spoken truth.

She knew the image she projected invited the label.

*A bad woman.*

“You don’t know me! You only see this version… How can you say that?”

“I said nothing,” Lin An replied, confusion in his eyes. “You assumed I called you ‘bad.’ Because that’s the mask you wear.”

“You admit it. So yes, I might wonder. But I don’t think you’re bad. Otherwise… you wouldn’t have looked so pained talking about love.”

“Even with that mocking look… you believed once, didn’t you?”

He held her gaze. The storm in her eyes quieted. She looked down, a self-mocking smile.

Then she pressed his shoulders, leaned close. Lips cool, faintly wine-scented, brushed his—light as a whisper.

Lin An’s expression unreadable: surprise? calculation? Lost in the swirling lights.

“My first kiss,” she murmured.

“Mm. I believe you,” he nodded gently.

*Sometimes girls cling to innocence—to quiet conscience, avoid self-judgment. So he played along. Just a game. If she wanted purity… why resist?*

Her tactics were shallow—teasing naive boys. Against a true player, she’d shatter. Stuck between acts. Since she chose this role… why not let her have it?