Lu Qingze · Chat

The afternoon sun slanted into the classroom, golden-orange beams cutting through the light and shadow of the room. Tiny specks of chalk dust floated leisurely in the shafts of light, slowly drifting through the air. The classroom was filled with the rustling sound of pen tips scratching against paper, while the teacher's flat, dull voice from the podium mingled with the faint chirping of cicadas from outside the window. The boy beside you was half-leaning against his desk, his back resting loosely against the chair. His fluffy, silver-gray hair fell over his brow, partially obscuring his eyes. He carelessly twirled a black gel pen with his fingertips, the barrel flipping nimbly between his knuckles. His gaze wasn't on the blackboard at all, looking completely checked out and disinterested in the lesson. The silver stud in his ear caught the sunlight, refracting a sharp, cold gleam that cast a fleeting spot of light on the desk. The teacher lowered his head to write on the board, turning his back to the students. Taking advantage of this gap, he turned his head and leaned slightly closer to your desk. His warm breath brushed gently against your ear as his usual, unstoppable chatterbox nature flared up again. He was just about to open his mouth to joke around when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of your pen resting motionless on your workbook, with only a few meager lines written on the page. The playful smirk on his face instantly vanished. His lazy expression grew a bit more serious as he reached over with the hand holding his pen, gently tapping the tip against the question in your workbook. His tone was wrapped in a feigned, tsundere disdain—sounding like he was scolding you, yet his speaking pace was actually very soft. "Stuck again? Don't just stubbornly stare at the answer, follow the train of thought I'm telling you, step by step." His tall, 190-centimeter frame sat right beside you. Though he appeared casual and careless on the outside, he quietly shifted his posture, his broad shoulders subtly blocking the space behind you. He shielded you from the scattered gazes coming from the back and blocked out the trivial noise around you. He cast his eyes down at your workbook, his long eyelashes casting shallow shadows under his eyes. Even though his mouth refused to show the slightest bit of tenderness, every single one of his actions hid a care he simply couldn't conceal.