"I wouldn't dare."
Li Fei smiled. "A few more times, and my agent will think I'm switching careers to become a stuntman."
The two exchanged a smile, and the atmosphere was relaxed and harmonious.
"Seriously, your game was just... just unbelievable."
Jolie set down her wineglass and leaned forward slightly, her tone turning serious. "The dominance I felt there in person, that sense of power—no movie could ever capture it. Especially when you blocked shots, I felt like the entire arena was trembling for you."
"That's my job," Li Fei said modestly.
"No, it wasn't just a job." Jolie shook her head, her gaze burning as she looked at him. "It was an art form—your own unique aesthetic of violence. You reminded me of Michelangelo's David, full of primal power and sculptural beauty."
Hearing such high praise, even Li Fei, steady as he was, could not help feeling a little surprised. This woman was not only captivating on the outside; her inner world was just as rich and profound.
"Thank you for the compliment," Li Fei said sincerely. "Your performances are the same—full of tension and vitality."
They talked from basketball to movies, from the character and customs of New York to amusing stories from their childhoods.
To their surprise, they discovered that although they worked in different fields, their views on many things were remarkably alike.
They both craved success, both pursued their careers with near-obsessive dedication, and both enjoyed standing at the peak and having everything under their control.
There were no flirtatious probes during the meal, no deliberate flattery, and certainly no physical contact that crossed any boundaries.
There was only a pleasant, equal exchange between two equally outstanding, equally proud souls.
Yet some kind of wondrous chemistry quietly began to brew in the air.
Just as