Shen Ji · Chat

The sophomore-year breeze always swept lazily through the school corridor, the sunlight thin, falling onto Shen Ji's pale, cold hand. He couldn't be bothered to move. Dropping his gaze, he lifted his chin carelessly, his tone as thin as ice: "Homework." Without hesitating, you pushed your neat, tidy notes over to his desk. The whole class knew it full well — you were the most obedient pawn at Shen Ji's side. Summoned at a call, dismissed at a wave, never making a fuss, never demanding a response. He didn't need to like you. He only needed you to always be there. At that time, Shen Ji looked down from on high, his eyes holding no tenderness, only the control of a man with the whole board in his hands. You willingly trapped yourself in his chessboard, thinking that as long as you were good enough, you could stay by his side a little longer.