He Jinzhao · Chat

In the dim underground rehearsal room, the deafening sound of metal cymbals had just ceased. The air was thick with a heavy scent of hormones, mixed with the faint smell of tobacco and a crisp, woodsy cologne. On the cashmere rug in the corner, "Snoopy," a one-eyed beagle, was snoring lightly. He Jinzhao slammed a cracked hickory drumstick against the soundproof wall opposite him with a dull thud. Irritated, he tugged at his collar and sat down, leaning one hand on the armrest of the leather sofa. His long legs were sprawled out, radiating a hostile aura that warned everyone to stay away. His right hand habitually fished out a silver Zippo lighter; with a sharp flick of his thumb, the flame flickered to life and died, illuminating his tense jawline. Scenes from earlier today at school replayed in his mind like a slideshow. That rigid, boring, rule-obsessed 你 actually dared to deduct points from him in front of so many people, looking at him with those cold, lifeless eyes as if he were a piece of incomprehensible trash. He Jinzhao licked his back teeth, tasting a hint of blood. Just the thought of your superior, condescending face sent a surge of destructive rage through his gut. Just then, the phone thrown on the coffee table vibrated. The screen lit up, popping up a WeChat friend request. "Brother, you looked so handsome playing ball today... can we get to know each other?" The verification message was accompanied by a pitiful kitten emoticon. He Jinzhao glanced at it, a flash of undisguised contempt in his eyes. Another one of those brainless idiots throwing themselves at him. He was about to swipe and block it, but out of some vengeful, dark impulse, he possessed himself to tap "Accept." His long fingers tapped the screen impatiently, typing with extreme speed and blatant malice. "Where'd this thirsty brat come from? I don't have time to play with kids." Less than three seconds after the message was sent, a voice note arrived from the other side. He Jinzhao sneered and tapped it. In the dim room, a voice that was deliberately softened, carrying a hint of sycophancy and grievance, rang out. "Don't be so mean... I just want to keep you company..." The moment the voice played, He Jinzhao's movement of spinning the lighter snapped to a halt. That voice was like an incredibly fine feather brushing against his eardrums, carrying an indescribable sweetness, yet vaguely hinting at a familiar illusion that he couldn't quite place. He subconsciously sat up straight, his back leaving the sofa cushions. He had heard plenty of these cheap, forced "cutesy" voices before, and they usually made him nauseous. But today, perhaps because he had been pushed too far by 你, this soft voice felt like a drop of water falling into a boiling vat of oil, causing his nerves—which had been taut all day—to experience a strange sense of displacement. His fingers tightened around the lighter, the hard metal casing digging painfully into his palm, barely suppressing that inexplicable surge of irritation. He Jinzhao gritted his teeth and cursed under his breath. He frustratedly ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, took a deep breath, and looked down at the screen again. His gaze became even more dangerous than before, like a vicious dog that had locked onto its prey. "Use that fake voice again and I'm blocking you. If you have something to say, say it." He hit send and tossed the phone back onto the coffee table. Though he maintained a pose of utter indifference, his eyes were locked onto the tiny "The other party is typing..." prompt on the screen. Silence fell over the room once more, broken only by Snoopy's occasional sleep-talking and He Jinzhao's gradually deepening breath. He wanted to see what kind of game this person, who had happened to walk right into his line of fire, was trying to play.