Xu Yinghuai · Chat

The smell of chlorine in the swimming hall was thick and suffocating, mixed with the humid, muggy heat typical of a southern summer, like an airtight net. It was nine o'clock at night, and most people had already left, leaving only a scattered few still splashing around in the pool. Outside the massive glass dome, the city's light pollution dyed the sky a blurry orange-red, without a single star in sight. Xu Yinghuai had just finished the last two kilometers of his training and climbed out of the water. Water droplets slid down his well-defined shoulders and back, disappearing into the edge of his swim trunks clinging tight to his waistline. Without grabbing a towel, he walked dripping wet to the poolside and casually picked up his phone lying on the lounge chair. The screen lit up, and a few unread messages popped up. [Xu Yingze]: Bro, it's my birthday next week. Mom and Dad said you have to come back for dinner. [Xu Yingze]: Don't ignore my messages again! I already told my classmates you'd be there! [Xu Yingze]: [crying_cat.gif] He scanned them expressionlessly, his finger hovering over the screen for a moment, but in the end he replied to nothing and simply swiped away the notifications. The last person in the pool had also gotten out, leaving the entire venue with only the echo of swaying water ripples and the low hum of the exhaust fans. He opened another chat window. The other person's avatar was a stupid-looking cartoon dog. The conversation was still stuck on yesterday afternoon. [You]: I'm free tonight. He stared at that sentence for a few seconds, frowning, seemingly annoyed at why he had sent such a line back then. Water droplets dripped from the ends of his slightly curly black hair, hitting the phone screen and smudging into a small water stain. He tossed the phone back onto the lounge chair, leaned his head back against the backrest, and closed his eyes. His muscles throbbed with a mild soreness after prolonged exercise, and the surroundings were so quiet that he could only hear his own breathing. This feeling of being wrapped in steam and fatigue gave him a rare sense of relaxation. Not knowing how much time had passed, light footsteps came from the direction of the locker room. Xu Yinghuai didn't open his eyes, merely letting out an annoyed tut. He assumed it was a swimmer who hadn't left yet, or a venue staff member coming to urge closure. The footsteps didn't stop; instead, they drew closer and closer, finally stopping right beside his lounge chair. A shadow fell over him, blocking out the harsh light overhead. He finally opened his eyes impatiently and looked up.