Tum attempted to dial Chatchawin's number once more, but the line produced only a hollow, unanswered ring.
At that precise moment, Wenjie brushed past him in a frantic hurry. Tum turned to look after his departing figure, acutely sensing a strange, turbulent energy radiating from the man.
It was a deep, fiery red aura of sheer impatience and desperation, yet strangely interlaced with threads of translucent white and azure blue reflecting an agonizing wait and an insatiable hunger for definitive answers. Beneath it all, a subtle, flickering pale yellow light vibrated, veiling a deeply buried secret.
That chaotic blend of emotional energies ignited a cold, ominous premonition within Tum’s chest.
Wenjie made a beeline for the parking lot, just as an empty taxi swept by. Tum raised his hand without a second thought and slipped into the back seat as Wenjie’s luxury sedan surged out from the building's estate.
“Driver... follow that car, please. Keep a safe distance don't let him spot us,” Tum instructed. The driver nodded, stepping on the gas immediately.
Wenjie’s vehicle skirted along the edge of Wishing Star Lake before banking toward Shanghai Lavender Park a sprawling sanctuary blanketed in vibrant purple blossoms swaying gracefully under the evening breeze, set against a deep twilight sky. At the center of the floral fields stood a black canvas pavilion. It mirrored the structure of a casual roadside tent, yet possessed a sleek, architectural sophistication that instantly set it apart from any ordinary pop-up eatery.
Tum stepped out of the taxi, watching Wenjie’s car come to a stop directly in front of the structure. Pulling out his phone, he brought up a map application to query the location, confirming its coordinates within the Shanghai International Resort complex, adjacent to Shanghai Disneyland in southeastern Pudong.
Digging deeper into local culinary forums, he stumbled upon a thread that had recently sent shockwaves through the elite gastronomic world:
Chef Lom
—the globally renowned culinary prodigy—had inaugurated an exclusive, highly clandestine pop-up restaurant in heart of Shanghai two months prior, and was operating from Shanghai Lavender Park that very evening.
“Chef Lom...?” Tum murmured, lifting his gaze to the black tent before returning to the article.
Chef Lom’s pop-up location shifts continuously without prior announcement. Connoisseurs and culinary diehards must track the coordinates relentlessly to compete for reservations with the enigmatic master, whose signature legacy remains unchanged: crafting bespoke dishes uniquely tailored to the aura, character, and emotional state of his diner.
How on earth had he missed the news that Chef Lom was operating a pop-up here especially when he himself was supposed to be a primary business partner in the establishment?
Unless...
Tum raised his head, his hands holding the phone trembling violently as his eyes locked onto the black canvas pavilion amidst the lavender fields. Swept up in a flurry of confusion, he accelerated his pace, cutting through the fragrant purple landscape under the suffocating scent of fresh blossoms.
Inside the pavilion, Wenjie collapsed onto a counter seat, utterly drained of vitality.
The interior was decorated with a delicate arrangement of both dried and fresh lavender, diffusing a deeply soothing aroma throughout the space. Overhead, the inner lining of the black canvas ceiling was woven with shimmering silver and violet fibers, recreating the surreal grandeur of a starlit night sky.
Yet, the peaceful serenity offered zero solace to the burning turbulence within Wenjie’s chest.
“You told me to trust in myself...” Wenjie rasped, his voice tight with bitter resentment. “Then why... why did such a fatal miscalculation occur today?”
Behind the counter, the mysterious figure displayed not a single trace of distress. With practiced grace, he pulled a glass stopper from a crystal decanter with a soft
pop!
A vibrant, violet-pink liquid surged gracefully to the brim, crowned by a delicate layer of soft micro-foam that settled perfectly at the rim. He then poured the sweet-hued nectar into a faceted crystal tumbler, its geometric edges sparkling like raw diamonds.
“Simply having the audacity to decide for yourself without heeding the noise of others... is that not an act of true courage in itself?” a smooth, deep voice echoed.
A slender hand slid the crystal tumbler across the counter, placing it smoothly before Wenjie.
“But I still didn't win...” Wenjie let out a hollow, bitter chuckle, lifting his gaze toward the tall man standing before him. The figure wore a sleek half-mask obscuring the upper half of his face, his thin lips curving into a enigmatic, subtle smile.
“...against the one person I desperately wished to conquer.”
“And yet... is victory not already coming into sharp focus right before your eyes?” The masked man gestured gracefully toward the drink.
Wenjie extended his hand, his fingertips resting against the cool surface of the crystal tumbler, its sharp angles nestling perfectly into his palm. A sudden surge of relief radiated up his fingers. Tightening his grip, he lifted the glass and took a slow sip.
The moment the chilled liquid touched his tongue, an effervescent burst of crisp flavor exploded across his palate. The rich, intoxicating aroma of lavender surged through his nasal passages, penetrating straight to his mind.
The invigorating rush forced Wenjie’s eyes wide open. The deep, aromatic essence seeped through every pore of his body. His heart, previously pounding with furious rage, slowed into a calm, rhythmic pulse—as though an invisible weight had been lifted from his soul.
“Deep down inside...” the masked man spoke softly, his eyes locking onto his guest, “...you feel a sense of pride, do you not? You finally took action and did what you have always yearned to do. Even if it wasn't a total annihilation... conquering half of that man’s empire is still a victory worth celebrating.”
Wenjie stared at him in quiet surrender, a subtle smile finally breaking across his face followed by a low, breathless laugh.
“You... really are terrifyingly adept at reading people's hearts,” Wenjie whispered softly.
Outside, Tum peered through a narrow slit in the canvas, his eyes fixing on the figure standing opposite Wenjie.
Though the upper half of his face was concealed behind a mask, the man’s towering height, his powerful, muscular build, his broad posture, his skin tone, and the distinct contour of his thin lips made his identity instantly unmistakable.
In that fleeting second...
The masked man shifted his gaze, locking eyes directly with Tum through the gap—his lips curving into a knowing, cryptic smile.