Entering The Nephele, the atmosphere shifted from the chill outside to a vibrant warmth. Though the room was filled with people, it never felt noisy; an invisible boundary seemed to channel the bustle into a soft, textured ambiance—a weave of low murmurs, faint crystal-clear background music, and the delicate clink of silverware. In contrast to the dim exterior, the soaring floor-to-ceiling windows invited the lingering glow of the setting sun, making the dining area appear luminous and expansive. Like the external arches, the interior was divided into two distinct zones: a bar area cloaked in black, where high-top tables were scattered to create an air of intimacy and allure—groups of two or three could be seen whispering over drinks—and a formal dining area in brilliant white. This section, nearly eighty percent full, felt fresh and bright, filled with the hum of relaxed, quiet conversation.
"Ms. Lin, would you like to order drinks at the bar first? Or would you prefer to order at your table and have us bring them over?" the host asked politely.
"The bar first," Kelly replied with a nod.
"Certainly." The host led the three of them to three vacant seats at the corner of the bar.
"Kelly, my beauty!" the bartender waved enthusiastically.
"Hi, Bob," Kelly smiled back.
"And who are these two?"
"My best friend and her daughter."
"Welcome, welcome! As expected, any friend of the beautiful Kelly must be a beauty themselves."
"Cut it out, Bob," Kelly couldn't help but laugh.
"What can I get you today?" Bob asked.
"The usual for me. Sister Ye, still the Manhattan? And for Wanying, could you make a plum-flavored mocktail? Special treat for the kid please." Kelly asked.
"Coming right up," Bob replied deftly.
"Make Wanying's first," Kelly reminded him.
"As you wish, Her Majesty," Bob chuckled.
Bob’s movements were swift but never rushed—a fluid sequence of turning, reaching for bottles, and uncapping, each motion executed with a ritualistic precision and restraint. The two bottles of base spirits in his hands were like twin blades, spinning nimbly between his fingertips, their glass bodies reflecting a cold brilliance as if performing a silent show. He then raised the shaker high, pouring an amber liquid with his right hand while his left added a splash of vivid emerald, like a drop into a still pond. Everything was seamless, devoid of hesitation.
He began to shake the tin with a steady, rhythmic cadence. It wasn't a violent vibration, but a dance with a hidden beat, as if he were playing a piece of music only he could hear. With every movement, subtle scents seemed to be released into the air: the tartness of early spring plums, the coolness of rosemary, and a trace of misty smoke, like a dream slowly taking shape.
Wanying watched, mesmerized. She suddenly felt that the swirling cocktail was much like herself—blending something, brewing something; a stable exterior containing an inner state of flux. She completely forgot she was merely waiting for a drink.
"We timed it perfectly today; Bob’s performances aren't something you see every day," Kelly said with a laugh.
"Your being too kind, Queen Kelly," Bob joked, his hands never slowing as he prepared Kelly and Ye's cocktails. Moments later, two drinks of vastly different characters were placed perfectly before them.
"Has Kelly’s 'reign of terror' grown that much?" Ye asked half-jokingly.
"Kelly is a force of nature here—brilliant, beautiful, and single. You wouldn't believe how many men try their luck only to go home in total defeat!" Bob laughed.
"Stop it, Bob. Don't talk nonsense, there's a child here," Kelly laughed, though her tone held a sharp edge beneath the silk.
"Yes, yes, Her Majesty is always low-profile. My lips are sealed." Bob was still smiling, but his gaze suddenly shifted behind them. His smile vanished instantly. Kelly, sensing an unfriendly gaze from behind, glanced at Bob. He leaned in and whispered, "The ancient grumble has arrived, Majesty. He's heading straight for you."
Kelly allowed a rare smile of disdain and slight disgust to surface. She signaled to a nearby server. "Please show them to their table." Turning to Ye and Wanying, she said, "Go on ahead. I’ll be there in a moment."
"Is everything alright?" Ye asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Fine. Just swatting a fly," Kelly said, her smile stinging.
"Wanying, let's go." Ye picked up her glass, masking her worry as she led Wanying toward the dining area behind the server. On their way, they brushed past a Caucasian man in his late fifties or early sixties. He was well-maintained for his age and cast an insolent look at them. Wanying frowned slightly and glanced back at him, watching as the man sat down in the high-top chair next to Kelly. "Wanying, keep up. Don't stare," Ye said with a rare note of sternness.
The man, who had seated himself uninvited, wore a tailored dark tartan suit, his silver cufflinks glinting coldly. He held a glass of whiskey, raising an eyebrow with an elegant but malicious air.
"Well, if it isn't the Gypsy girl who uses AI to play God. What’s the matter? No fortune-telling booth tonight?"
Kelly turned her head slowly, her gaze sweeping over him with zero emotion. Her voice was as thin as the night wind. "William, your way of expressing yourself remains as archaic as ever—even more ancient than my 'Gypsy' heritage."
William chuckled, took a sip of his drink, and lowered his voice. "You’re as coarse as ever. Always talking about money, efficiency, power... You nouveaux riches love loud voices and grand scenes, yet you never learn grace or boundaries. What? Bringing your country relatives here to see the world? I’ll tell you now: no matter what they see, it won't wash off the stench of the urban mire you all crawled out of."
Kelly tilted her head slightly, as if admiring a dusty antique specimen. "Is that so? As for boundaries, didn't they shatter the moment you sat your backside down? Or is it that 'old money' no longer bothers with etiquette, leaving only a delusional sense of superiority?"
A flash of impatience crossed William's eyes. He leaned in with a cold sneer. "At the end of the day, Kelly, you’re just a commoner who found a scepter in the jungle. You want to talk vision and power with people like us? You don't even know the rules of the game at this table."
Kelly’s smile emerged slowly, like a blade being drawn from velvet. "Do you think this is still your little country estate in England, where the foxes in the hunting grounds have to run for you? William, times have changed. Your breed of hunters is too slow, too old, and your hands shake. Now, it’s your turn to be hunted. Haven't you realized yet? You’re no longer the one making the rules."
He was momentarily choked by her words before snapping back. "Your little street-smarts can only take you so far. You want to dictate the world order? A snake trying to swallow an elephant. That is our job. Families like mine were helping shape the order of this world while your grandmother was still using kerosene lamps."
"Wow. How is it that with hundreds of years of history, you've lost more than half your assets in just the last ten years?" Kelly’s voice was airy, but her eyes were cold. "Oh, sorry. I forgot. Your family motto must be: 'Failure is an elegant tradition.'"
William’s face darkened for a second. His knuckles tapped the rim of his glass. "Charles hasn't got many days left. Once he retires, do you really think you’ll still be a 'force of nature'?"
At this, Kelly’s eyebrows arched slightly, her eyes filled with a trace of pity. "William, after all these years, do you honestly believe I’m the one relying on Charles?"
He asked in a low, heavy voice, "Aren't you a bit too confident, Miss Kelly Lin?"
She gave a faint smile and raised her cocktail. The orange peel glinted in the glass, and her voice was as calm as a mist. "Do you really think I’d be afraid of a sunset-bound old man like you?" Kelly stood up, her tone low and steady, almost tender yet laced with a certain wicked charm. "I’m in a good mood tonight, so I won't take out the trash. But before you see me again, remember to wash your mouth—or just stay as far away as possible. I might not have this much patience next time."
"Bob, I’m heading out." Kelly signaled to Bob. With that, she turned and walked away, leaving William sitting alone, staring blankly into his whiskey.25Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAF8ASvb4Hu
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