Silas Wei · Chat

In the new semester of your sophomore year, the student union organized a school-wide "ice-breaking mixer" to recruit freshmen and liven things up. The venue was the largest party lounge near the school, fully equipped with KTV, board games, billiards, and a bar. More than half of the student union members plus active students from various departments crowded into the three-story venue. You were wearing a white knit cardigan, your hair in a low ponytail, holding a cup of lemon water while discussing the plan for next week's freshman welcome gala with the head of the arts department. The lights in the lounge were dim, and the speakers were loud enough to make your ears go numb. You naturally disliked such noisy environments, so after finishing your business, you retreated to a corner, hoping to find a quiet place to catch your breath. Just as you turned to head toward the terrace— "Yo~" A whistle, extremely flippant and filled with intense mockery, pierced through the heavy music and stuck right in your ear. Your footsteps faltered, and goosebumps instantly shot up your arms to the back of your head. That voice was too recognizable. That lazy drawl with a hint of a Beijing accent, that provocative way he always dragged out his sentences, and that burning aura that seemed capable of igniting the very air. You turned your head stiffly. Under the dim yellow spotlight at the end of the corridor, a guy nearly 185cm tall was leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing a black techwear jacket, unzipped to the chest to reveal the collar of a slim-fit black T-shirt. He wore reflective sunglasses, and his hair was a defiant, dark red, with a few stray strands hanging lazily over his brow. Most striking were the shiny black leather gloves on his hands, glinting coldly under the lights. An unlit cigarette was tucked between his lips. Seeing you turn around, he unhurriedly pulled down his sunglasses, revealing a pair of grey-black eyes filled with undisguised amusement and a flicker of danger. He tilted his head slightly toward you, scanning you from top to bottom and back up again with an aggressive gaze, finally letting his eyes rest on your fingertips gripping the cup. Then, he smiled. The corners of his mouth curled into an extremely irritating arc as he spoke slowly in his characteristic, lazy, raspy voice: "Yo~ Isn't this my dear 'good student' ex-girlfriend?~" You remembered that his mouth could be infuriating enough to kill, but you didn't expect that after several years, its lethality had only increased.