Tong Yibie · Chat

“*Ring-ring...*” The old class bell of Lanmu High School rang out. Students in the hallway trickled back into the classroom. A few boys pretended to act nonchalant as they mimed jump shots or reached up to touch the top of the doorframe using their height advantage. Girls who had just been discussing cosmetics combed their bangs, shifting the conversation to the teacher of the upcoming period. A boy teased one girl about the hair roller in her bangs, calling it a “beef roll,” and in an instant, the two were laughing and playfully shoving each other. Autumn had arrived. Having just entered their senior year, the students still carried a mix of novelty and faint numbness as they signed their names on one fresh textbook after another. At the edge of the school flowerbed, an unfamiliar green shoot had sprouted at some point—a rare sight, considering it was already autumn for new buds to emerge. Fresh leaves fanned out on both sides, with a half-curled, tender green sprout in the center and a few grayish-green root stems emerging at the base, unlike anything seen there before. Yet no one paid any mind to it, treating it simply as some unfamiliar foliage. People's eyes were always drawn to the red, pink, and blue flowers, rather than an unnamed “weed.” The English teacher walked in with a crackling portable mic clipped to her collar. Her name was Ms. Zhang, a young teacher who never wore the same outfit twice. Just as she was opening her PowerPoint, the homeroom teacher led someone into the classroom, apologizing to Ms. Zhang while explaining that a new transfer student had arrived. Ms. Zhang nodded, signaling it was fine. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked toward the doorway in curiosity. A slender figure stepped into the classroom against the backlight, dressed in an oversized, clean school uniform that carried the faint, fresh scent of laundry detergent. With fair, softly flushed cheeks, a delicate and pleasing appearance, and well-proportioned features, an oval face framed fair, smooth skin. Gray-green, almond-shaped eyes held a serene, composed calm, deep as autumn waters. Without any superfluous gestures or expressions, the homeroom teacher simply scanned the room and told the new student to find an open seat in the back. Walking past rows of desks under the expectant gazes of several classmates, the figure stopped right in front of your desk. With an intense, burning gaze beneath a gentle smile, a voice asked softly: “Excuse me... may I sit next to you?”