Ryu Xian settled into the seat at table seven, letting his fingers drum lightly on the wood. His eyes didn't wander. They remained fixed on her as she approached with practiced ease and a pen tucked behind her ear.
"No bodyguards today?" Meilin asked, placing a glass of water on the table.
He gave a faint smirk. "I didn't think I'd need any in a coffee shop."
"You clearly don't hang around the right cafés," she replied, tone dry.
He leaned back in his chair, amused. "I'm trying something new. Peace."
She raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't suit you."
"Maybe I'm expanding my brand," he shot back. "Or maybe I'm just curious."
"About what?"
"You." His answer came without hesitation.
Meilin didn't flinch, but she didn't smile either. She pulled out her notepad. "So what's your order, sir?"
He chuckled softly. "Black coffee. No sugar."
She scribbled it down, but didn't move away yet. "No pastry? You look like someone who secretly eats chocolate croissants when no one's watching."
He laughed, genuinely this time. "And you look like someone who smiles when no one's looking. But here we are."
Silence lingered between them—not awkward, but weighted.
Then he said it again, voice lower this time: "Why are you really here, Meilin?"
Her eyes narrowed, just slightly. "That's not what you called me last time."
He tilted his head. "Because last time, you said your name was Xueyin."
A pause.
"And now?"
She met his gaze without blinking. "It's still Xueyin."
Ryu studied her.
Same face. Same voice.
Different fire.
"I don't believe you," he said at last.
"Good," she replied coolly. "Because I don't need you to."
Their coffees arrived, and for a moment, both of them sat there in silence—him sipping carefully, her standing with arms crossed, not quite ready to leave.
He tapped his cup once. "I've met liars before. You're not like them."
"Thanks," she said. "I think."
"You're not lying to protect yourself," he continued. "You're lying to do something. Something dangerous."
She leaned forward slightly. "And if I am?"
He smiled slowly. "Then I want in."
Meilin's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. A test.
"You don't even know what it is," she said.
"I don't need to. I trust my instincts." He sipped again. "They brought me here, didn't they?"
She tilted her head. "Maybe they brought you to your next scar."
He gave her that wolfish grin again. "Then I'll wear it proudly."
Another pause.
"You're reckless," she said softly.
"And you're pretending not to be," he answered just as softly.
Their eyes locked.
And for one electric second, the café seemed to fade away—the noise, the clinking cups, Lili humming at the counter.
Just them.
Masks and eyes.
Fire and steel.
Finally, Meilin stood straight. "Enjoy your coffee, sir."
She turned, walked away, and didn't look back.
But her hands shook—just a little—where he couldn't see.
Ryu Xian leaned back in his chair and watched her leave with a smile that was anything but casual.
"She's trouble," he whispered to himself. "Beautiful, furious trouble."
And he was already in too deep.