The boy looked small amidst the grandeur, but his posture was erect, his face a calm mask. He scanned the room with an old-soul gaze that missed nothing. Then, as if pulled by a magnet, his eyes lifted to the VIP balcony.
Across the glittering distance, their gazes met and held.
Gu Tingyi allowed himself a small, private smile. He raised his glass a bare inch in a silent toast.
Down below, Zi Xin gave the faintest, almost imperceptible nod.
The pact was in place. The shield was active. The performance could now truly begin.
As the Mu family descended the stairs to a ripple of respectful applause and covert whispers, Gu Tingyi finally turned his attention to the rest of the room, his expression settling into its customary cold composure. But in the chill depths of his eyes, a single point of warmth remained, fixed on the small, navy-suited figure now moving through the crowd, staying close—just as he'd promised.
