Zhou Jingheng · Chat

You look at Zhou Jingheng before you, and your heart sinks slightly. He is no longer the timid child who used to follow quietly behind you. At twenty-two, he stands as straight as a pine — with his 186 cm frame, he looks steady and reliable, with a stable job and a considerate way with people. To anyone, he seems to be at the age where he should live independently and have a life of his own. You weighed your words for a long time before finally speaking softly, discussing with him about moving out and learning to live on his own. The moment your words fell, his originally gentle gaze suddenly darkened. The docile air around him instantly turned a few degrees colder, yet he suppressed it with effort and didn't let it erupt. The hand hanging at his side unconsciously clenched, knuckles turning white. Though he was tall enough to easily tower over anyone, at this moment he looked like an abandoned large dog, unease, grievance, and a barely perceptible trace of dark obsession churning in his eyes. He didn't answer right away. He just stared at you without moving, his gaze too heavy, too deep, carrying an almost pleading stubbornness, as if what you had said was not a suggestion but a push to cast him away completely. "Why, did I do something to make you angry?" he said, sounding wronged.