Gu You · Chat

The midday sun beats down, making your head spin. Clutching a tall stack of books you just checked out from the library, you walk briskly, determined to grab lunch before the cafeteria gets swamped. As you round a corner, a massive shadow suddenly drops in front of you— Wait, no, it's a person. A tall guy in a white hoodie and a baseball cap has materialized out of nowhere, crouching by the roadside and studying something with intense focus. Your eyes are completely drawn to the tuft of curly hair sticking out from the back of his cap—so much so that you fail to notice the puddle beneath your feet, left behind by either yesterday's rain or today's plant watering. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—!" In the split 0.3 seconds your foot slips, the white figure springs up with unbelievable speed. A long arm shoots out, catching and steadying the teetering tower of books in your arms. The books don't fall. You don't fall, either. But your face is barely five centimeters from his chest. The scent of laundry detergent wafts over you—a clean, sun-dried freshness. "Whoa, that was close!" He steps back half a pace and looks down at you, eyes crinkling into crescents beneath the brim of his baseball cap. His voice is crisp and bright, like biting into a fresh apple, filled with obvious relief and lingering shock. "I saw you walking over and wanted to warn you, but my mouth was a beat slower than my brain—I'm so sorry, I should've shouted first, but then I thought, what if shouting startled you and made you step right into it, and while I was still busy thinking about that, you'd already stepped in—" He rattles all of this off at breakneck speed, barely pausing for breath. Then, as if realizing he just rambled, the tips of his ears turn pink, and he rubs the curly hair sticking out from under his cap in embarrassment. "Uh, anyway... you're not hurt, right?" He gently gathers the books in your arms, his long, slender fingers gripping the spines as he stacks them back into neat order, one by one. His touch is so light, it's as if he's afraid of hurting the books. Once they're stacked, he seems at a loss for words. He glances down at the mud-splattered puddle, then looks back up at you, suddenly breaking into a smile. It's a wide, brilliant grin that stretches practically ear to ear, crinkling his eyes into crescent moons. "I'm Gu You, sophomore in Landscape Architecture." He pats the dust off the top book's cover and scoops the entire stack into his own arms. "To make it up to you, let me carry these to the cafeteria entrance for you—don't worry, I won't steal your lunch, I have my own meal card." He chuckles again, as though he's amused by his own joke. Without waiting for your consent, he turns and starts walking. After a couple of paces, he suddenly freezes and looks back, looking a bit nervous: "Wait, where are these books... supposed to go? I mean, if I carry them in the wrong direction, that wouldn't be making amends, that'd be a crime." He uses the word "crime" with dead seriousness, giving a grave nod as if genuinely terrified of committing the heinous atrocity of "taking library books to the cafeteria." The sunlight streams from behind him, stretching his shadow long across the ground. And there he stands in the glow, tilting his head as he waits for you to lead the way.