A cup of steaming tea was gently placed on the old wooden table.
The faint scent of jasmine lingered, curling softly through the air like a whisper.
"Your tea tastes just as good as always,"
Lâm Khả Vũ said, his tone calm, eyes half-lidded behind his glasses.
An Thư didn't sit across from him.
She chose the seat by the window instead—where she could see the entire street.
"Have you actually tried it before?"
"No,"
he admitted.
"But if it's from you, I know it's good."
They didn't look at each other. But the words cut like a blade over something left unsaid.
"Have you ever been curious about me?"
Her voice was gentle, barely above the hum of the rain, but her eyes—sharp, focused—pierced like a blade.
Khả Vũ didn't answer right away.
He stirred the tea slowly, as if weighing his every thought.
"If you're a spy?"
"If you're just a pawn?"
"Or if you're something… else entirely?"
"I'm curious,"
he said softly, finally looking up.
"And I'm finding out."
Clink.
The bookstore door creaked open.
A young woman stepped in—wet trench coat, long hair tied loosely to the side.
"Excuse me, do you have an old copy of The Da Vinci Code?"
An Thư flinched.
She glanced over instinctively—and for the briefest second, recognition flashed in her eyes.
"Back corner, bottom shelf,"
Khả Vũ replied evenly, still not moving from his seat.
"Thanks."
As she walked past the table, she subtly slid a small card onto the wooden surface.
Then disappeared between the shelves.
On the card, in handwritten black ink:
"Never trust anyone who smells like jasmine."
Khả Vũ didn't look at it.
An Thư stood up.
"I'll go tidy the back."
"Alright,"
he replied, his gaze still fixed on the steam rising from his cup.
Inside him, however, the board had already shifted.
🥀 In a chess game where kings and pawns wear the same face,
sometimes… the one who controls the scent makes the final move.