On their late-night return journey, Xia Xiaoman inspected the recording device in the backseat of the Maybach. Li Moting suddenly draped a silk scarf over her lap—only then did she notice her dress was soaked with red wine, clinging to her thighs from the evening's chaos.
"The black card?" he asked casually.
"Used it as a bookmark," she replied without looking up. "What, is Director Li short on pocket money?"
Li Moting's expression froze for a split second. He activated the soundproof partition before retrieving a velvet box from his inner pocket. "This is the real apology gift."
Inside lay a brooch embedded with meteorite fragments, glowing an eerie blue under the moonlight. As Xia Xiaoman reached for it, he caught her wrist: "Don't touch. It contains—"
A heavy thud sounded on the roof. The next instant, the windshield cracked into spiderweb patterns from a bullet impact. Li Moting shielded her with his body, the sharp tip of the meteorite brooch pressing cold against her heart.
"—a listening device," he finished the sentence against her ear, his breath raising goosebumps along her neck. "Now keep playing your role."
Outside, a sniper's laser sight wandered across their entwined figures. Xia Xiaoman closed her eyes and kissed his bloodied lips. This kiss held a hundred times more truth than their banquet performance, tasting of iron and unfinished lies.
When Li Yunzheng's voice crackled through the radio, they remained locked in the intimate pose. "Test concluded," he sounded bored. "It seems cousin is serious this time."
Li Moting slowly straightened his disheveled shirt. In the moonlight, Xia Xiaoman finally deciphered the inscription on the meteorite brooch's reverse:
**"When stars fall, memories awaken.—S.L."**