From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL) Chapter 59: Beneath the Glamour: A Charity Gala Turned Night

The ball was a jewel amid the city, and its audience was anything but ordinary. It was a list of the crè de la crè—acun tycoons, power brokers, and wealthy philanthropists, all sharing shoulders under the golden light of refined chandeliers. The atmosphere was electric, and the prying eyes of the press were trained on every entrant.

As Sian and Lan Qisheng erged from their designer car, the night was filled with anticipation. The flashbulbs blinked like fireflies at twilight, recording each step they made as reporters jostled to the front in hopes that they would be the ones to get the exclusive interview. It was a frenzied tangle of flashing lights and aningless questions, a sign of how important the night was and how high-standing the individuals in front of them were.

In contrast to the individual standing next to him, who was feeling uncomfortable by the crowd pushing him in all directions, Sian felt comfortable amid the mayhem. He stood with relaxed ease, confidence and serenity radiating from him. FACES of colours and the din of noises swirled around him, but he remained utterly unimpressed, his sharp eyes taking stock of the chaos steadily. It seed that the surging throng added to his serenity, and he rged unnoticed into the bright mosaic of existence that swirled past him.

So of the reporters knew Sian the mont they set eyes on him. mories of the faces of the powerful and popular ones were part of the job—and who had been more popular than Sian the past month? Only to then disappear into thin air upon receiving his award. Sian, a saviour of innocent lives, had earned himself a good na, and the majority of the criticism aid at him had all disappeared into thin air.

Sian’s suit was a bluish hue, lighter than his face, and his hair was well-styled. It was loose, its tips well-trimd, with the appearance of a wolf-cut. Miraculously, the cut was apt on him, bringing out his chiselled facial features. Since his hair was white now too, combined with his amber eyes gleaming in the light, his appearance was nothing short of otherworldly.

He was gorgeous—otherworldly.

"Sian! Where were you? Are you one of the guest stars tonight at the charity gala? We’ve all been looking for you everywhere for all these years. Is it true that you’ve decided to move out of the spotlight and leave your singing and acting career behind? We’re all eager to know what you have to say about this. And I couldn’t help but notice, did you dye your hair? Are you going to co back to the group perhaps?"

Unfazed by the nacing atmosphere that clung to Lan Qisheng, a bold journalist launched a set of piercing questions, her tone firm and resolute despite the nacing aura. The air was electric with tension, but she did not retreat, her curiosity propelling her despite his ominous aura.

Fear? What fear? The Damocles sword hung over her head in the form of losing her job. Her boss’s words rang in her ears, unyielding and cruel: unless she could deliver an earth-shaking exclusive scoop, she might as well tender her resignation. The pressure was suffocating, tightening around her chest as the gravity of her predicant dawned on her.

She might have heard the sound of the ticking clock, the tick reminding her of the ti that was fast disappearing for her to make her mark.

To her good luck, Sian was not an excitable and hot-headed man and stood between him and the worst excesses of the dia when they brought out their hardest questioning techniques. Instead of losing his temper, he kept calm, asured in his responses and dignified amidst the tempest that raged around him.

As the cara was pointed at him, Sian looked into the aide’s cara, his face calm but firm. "Where have I been, you ask? Well, I’ve been ho, taking the ti to rest and reflect," he began, his voice steady. "Talking of my career. I suppose I had a bitter ending with the entertainnt company that I was contracted to. Though I have yet to make any concrete plans regarding my future as a musician, one thing is for sure: I’m not returning to the company or the group that used to be ho.".

He paused for a mont, brushing a hand through his vibrant hair. "And this? This is my natural colour. I’ve always had a fondness for it, so it feels right to embrace it again."

The reporter’s eyes widened in disbelief as she listened to Sian’s remarkably candid responses. Each answer was delivered with clarity and confidence, cutting through the tension of the mont like a warm knife through butter. Just as quickly as her heart had begun to race in uncertainty, a great wave of relief rolled through her. The knot of dread in her stomach unwound and she knew, with a shot of thankfulness, that she wasn’t going to be kicked out after all.

Having thanked Sian for his thoughtful response, she was pleased to ask additional questions with so already in her mind. But before she could put any of her questions into words, Lan Qisheng interrupted her. "We will not be answering anything else," he stated with a sort of finality, his tone not open to argunt.

He firmly grasped Sian’s hand in his own, his fingers intertwining with those of his lover, and with determination, he began to pull him away from the path towards the hotel.

Neither gave any attention to the flashes of light from caras, clicking happily at their entwined hands in surprise, as they completely focused on what they would do next.

When they walked into the fancy hotel, the room was toasted with laughter and guffaws like a warm hug. They walked through the extravagant lobby, with sparkling chandeliers and plush seats, to the glistening elevator.

It opened quietly, and they rode it up to the large hall, the venue of that evening’s ball.

They were t with a vibrant ambience as they arrived; fashionably dressed visitors mingled under the gentle ambience of crystal lights, their conversations blending to form a sense of excitent and expectation. Waiters went unnoticed through clusters of visitors, carrying trays of delectable hors d’oeuvres and bubbly beverages.

The mood was charged, helped along by the fact that so of them had waited so long to reach this place, held back in their coming by reasons they could not help but ignore. One of them had taken far too long getting lost in the huge sea of clothes, trying and making an entrance just right, oblivious to the clock ticking away.

Sian remained motionless in a black corner of the grand hall, a glass of red wine in his hand. The deep aroma of the wine blended with the boisterous noise of guests around him, but he felt a palpable distance from them all. Earlier, Lan Qisheng had tried to coax him to join the ranks of the visitors, but Sian’s insistence on not doing so had caused an accidental break. With a pseudo-sentintal but playful face, Lan Qisheng had sauntered off, his shoulders hardly slumping as he strutted alone. It was like Sian was able to visualize a secret tail behind him, dragging dejectedly on the shiny floor, reflecting the disillusionnt between them.

The party atmosphere of festive celebration was all around him, but he was frozen in his tracks, taking wine and thinking about things not said.

Sian blended in with the crowd, searching for any sign of the Xia family. He already had a fairly good idea that the original Sian had been their missing son. As confusing as so of the things were that he’d seen in the mories, they still made it pretty clear that the original Sian had never been a normal human.

And having seen that family in person now, Sian was 99% positive.

But one question that was really: How did the original Sian end up an orphan in the first place? How did a darling child of a family so highly placed and with so much power as the Xias fall off the radar like that? And why was he never discovered by anyone for the past fifteen years?

Sothing was missing. A connection that tied all these events.

Sian was not interested in the original Sian anymore now—he was. In the connection between his and this world. With everything that had happened, he could not lie to himself any longer. There were so many secrets and enigmas regarding him.

The more he thought about it, the stronger he felt a connection between his world and this one.

Maybe that was the sa reason his soul was able to invade this body and this world, to begin with.

The only thing Sian dreaded most was that this world would turn out to be like his. That the apocalypse would begin here as well.

In the case of..., he didn’t know if he was strong enough to go through it all again.

That was why he so desperately needed answers. And quickly.

Lost in thought, his head lowered, Sian suddenly noticed a pair of polished black shoes entering his line of sight.

Raising his head, he looked up at the owner of the shoes.

The man was dressed in a sharp black suit, exuding an air of authority that practically scread,

"I’m a CEO."

Although his hair was styled differently—slicked back now, altering the contours of his face slightly—Sian would recognize him at once.

His forr boss.

The dim-witted CEO who so readily fell victim to the manipulations of a green tea cunt.

Jiang Hangyu.