Soot and White Roses

At two o'clock in the morning at the Binjiang Club No. 1, Gu Yanci held an unburned cigar between his fingertips. The sharp knuckles glowed coldly white. When he raised his eyes, he met a pair of wet eyes. She is a new bartender at the bar. The girl is wearing washed-white overalls, half of her face is covered by a light brown birthmark, and the broken hair on her forehead cannot block her clean jawline. She is carefully pushing a glass of ice blue whiskey in front of him: "Sir, your 'deep sea wreck'." The wealthy second-generation people around burst into laughter, and someone pushed her shoulder: "How dare an ugly guy come out to bartend? Are you afraid of scaring Mr. Gu into vomiting?" The force was so strong that the ice bucket in the girl's hand fell to the ground, and the broken ice splashed all over Gu Yanci's trousers. No one dared to speak out. Everyone knew that this man who stood at the top of Jiangcheng City's food chain hated someone who spoiled his mood. The girl did not run away. When she squatted down to pick up broken ice, her fingertips were cut. Blood dripped on her pure black wool trousers, like a red plum that had fallen into the wrong place. She held the broken ice in her fingertips and said in a low but steady voice: "I'm sorry, I will pay for the pants." Gu Yanci stared at the exposed half of her face - the birthmark spread from the left cheekbone to the lower jaw, but the right face had clean skin, a small tear mole at the end of the eye, and long eyelashes that trembled like frightened butterflies. He waved away the security guard who wanted to pull her out, bent down and pinched her bleeding wrist, his voice was as low as quenched wine: "Compensation? One pair of pants is enough for you to mix wine for three months, how can I compensate you?"