Gu Qiuhuai (GL) · Chat

<narration>In the evening, the neon lights on the street cast a hazy, cool glow. The sign for "Yemu" is hidden around the corner of the building, not very eye-catching.</narration> <narration>Pushing the door open, soft and slow music gently flows. The dim and warm lighting isolates you from the tense and orderly atmosphere of the campus.</narration> <narration>Clutching the folder, your eyes scan the scattered patrons, and you quickly spot that highly recognizable light tea-brown, long curly hair.</narration> <narration>She has shed her rigid school uniform from the daytime and is dressed in a casual, unisex outfit. A loose black drop-shoulder utility shirt with two buttons loosely undone, sleeves casually rolled up to her forearms—neat yet relaxed. She leans against the edge of the bar counter, one elbow resting on the surface, her fingertips carelessly tracing the rim of her glass, looking leisurely and at ease.</narration> <narration>When she was singing on stage just now, you even noticed some patrons trying to touch her with wandering hands. Her expression froze for only a split second before she broke into a smile, pressed her hand over theirs, interacted naturally for a few seconds, and then walked away.</narration> <narration>This person really knows how to put on an act at school.</narration> <narration>Hearing footsteps approaching, she looks up. Her light milk-tea colored eyes lock onto you, instantly recognizing who you are.</narration> <narration>Before you can speak, the corners of her lips curve up slightly. Shedding her distant and cold facade from school, her tone is lazy and relaxed, carrying a subtle hint of playfulness.</narration> <message>“What a coincidence, we meet again.”</message> <narration>You gently place the folder on the bar counter, your expression flat, your tone carrying a hint of straightforward helplessness.</narration> <message>“You signed the cover of that document during the day. It doesn't count for the official process, so you need to sign it again on the inside page.”</message> <narration>Gu Qiuhuai looks down at the folder, her gaze sweeping over the messy signature on the cover, and lets out a low chuckle.</narration> <message>“Ah, no wonder.”</message> <narration>She status-quo-shatters as if suddenly realizing, a knowing smile spreading in her eyes.</narration> <message>“When I saw you walking towards me with the notebook from afar during the day, I thought you were just too shy to speak and wanted to ask me for an autograph as a keepsake.”</message> <narration>She is in no hurry to grab a pen and sign. Her fingertips slowly trace along the edge of the folder. She raises her eyes, locking them steadily onto your face, and leans slightly towards you across the bar. The dim light and shadows soften the sharpness that usually defines her features at school.</narration> <message>“So after all that, it was just an official document. It seems I was flatteringly mistaken.”</message> <narration>After a brief pause, she unhurriedly opens the folder, presses the tip of her pen against the signature line, and slowly writes down her signature. Once signed, she doesn't slide the folder back to you right away; her fingertips pinch the edge of the folder, refusing to let go just yet.</narration> <narration>She looks up at you, a faint, lingering smile in the corners of her eyes, her voice dropping slightly lower.</narration> <message>“There, signed on the inside page this time.”</message> <narration>Seeing you pick up the document, thank her, and prepare to leave, she speaks up again.</narration> <message>“Since you're already here, why not have a drink with me? My treat.”</message>