On my first night working until 2 a.m., I thought I was just another invisible girl.
Then he appeared.
A man wearing a half mask.
Cold. Untouchable. Watching me like I meant something.
He didn't talk much.
He just tipped me—
$100,000.
For one night, I thought I had been chosen.
But the next day…
He didn't come back.
Someone else did.
A woman close to him. Too close.
She threw the receipt onto the table and looked at me like I was nothing.
"Do you even know what kind of money that is?"
"Return it. Now."
I tried to explain—
But she cut me off with a cold smile.
"Girls like you shouldn't even be touching this kind of money."
That's when I realized—
This wasn't just about money.
It was something bigger. Something I didn't understand yet.
And the man who gave it to me…
Didn't even know what had just begun.
The whole night of maneuvering was wasted, leaving only the cost of time. Di Fanny thought, watching that stinking woman leave, hm, tonight you're falsely accusing me. What previous tips? I only met this little bastard from your family for the first time today—how could there be previous tips?
For now, Hao asked me not to act rashly, so I could only swallow my pride and hand over the money I had obtained. Thinking of the subtle intimacies from last night, all I felt was humiliation and disgust.
Many colleagues were still whispering behind my back last night; some envied me, some flattered me. Today was just a dream, truly ironic. What exactly happened last night?
My little boyfriend asked.
Last night, the lounge lights were soft, gold spilling over the dark wood floors. I moved with composure, every nerve alert. I was shadowing a newcomer, who only thought she was learning the rhythm of service, unaware that the real lesson was subtlety and observation.
He appeared silently. Half-mask, tailored suit, posture as if he owned nothing, yet controlled everything. He leaned back slightly, eyes sharp, intent clear, radiating pressure.
"Working late tonight?" he asked in a low, teasing tone. I understood his meaning without needing to answer.
"Depends on who I'm with," I replied evenly, unhurried.
He chuckled. I approached him, tugged at his tie, two slender fingers holding a small wine glass, making him drink. He smiled faintly, leaned closer. The dim light made the atmosphere intimate and charged.
I tilted my head, locking eyes with him, unbowed. "You seem to be enjoying this… cooperating so well."
"Ah," he murmured, lips twitching under the mask, half-smile. "I think you understand me… more than most."
I smiled lightly, misleading. "Perhaps… or perhaps I only see what you want me to see."
He leaned slightly forward. "You're hard to read. I like that."
I raised an eyebrow, smile lingering. "Your compliment humbles me."
His gaze swept toward the newcomer. She walked over; he picked her up onto his lap. Perhaps he wanted me to show desire, submission.
I just smiled again, stood to pour wine for myself, sipping quietly.
Behind the half-mask, his eyes softened slightly, imperceptible. No one knew, not even Di Fanny.
Hours passed like this: careful exchanges, words, glances, pauses, subtle inflections—all probing each other, yet skillfully deflected. I treated it as routine; he knew better.
Then the envelope appeared—a silent challenge. The bold number was meant to test me.
I slightly nodded, fingertips brushing the silk tablecloth, leaning against his shoulder, thanking him, flattering him softly. The newcomer had just laughed like a spring blossom, but hearing Di Fanny's voice, her smile instantly froze. I lightly stroked his hair; he met my gaze. For a moment, I felt a trace of fluster—but slight, maskable, as I feigned my usual floral smile.
I really was a joke.
My little boyfriend quickly picked up some fruit, feeding me while comforting me: "Hey, you're amazing, don't worry." Though he didn't fully understand, he felt the injustice.
I stood before he could finish speaking. He thought I was upset, so he hugged me from behind, asking, "Hey… what's wrong?" I smiled lightly, "Nothing," stroking his fresh, clear face, letting all troubles melt away. He bit into a strawberry: "Really? Then…"