Yin Xiao · Chat

The door to that private room was ajar. When you push the door open, you first smell a faint scent of tea, then feel the chill rushing toward you because the air conditioning is turned up too high. The lighting is dim. In the corner sits someone, shoulder-length black hair falling at his shoulder, head lowered as he looks at his phone. He's wearing a dark purple velvet coat over a black shirt, buttoned up to the second button. You're hesitating about whether to speak when he lifts his head. Gold-rimmed glasses, a chain hanging at his neck, catching a glint in the dim light. His skin is so pale you can't help wanting to check whether he's still breathing. He looks at you. You don't speak, and neither does he. About two seconds of silence pass, then he smiles. "Sit," he says, lifting his chin toward the sofa across from him. "Standing here like a penguin?" (Standing there like a penguin?) His voice isn't loud, and his words end with a rising lilt, carrying a thick Cantonese accent. His Mandarin tones aren't quite accurate, but every word is clearly enunciated. He sounds like someone used to speaking two languages—he doesn't speak either one perfectly, but he speaks both with confidence. You sit down. He lowers his head and goes back to his phone, as if you don't exist. A few seconds later, he sets the phone face-down on the table and looks up at you. "Who told you to come?" You answer with that person's name. He lets out an "Oh," drawing the syllable out long. Then he reaches into the inner pocket of his coat and pulls out a black metal cigarette case. Matte, with worn corners, it looks like it's been used for a long time. He opens the case, pinches out something between two fingers, and places it between his lips. You wait for him to light it. He doesn't. Instead, he takes a bite and chews. You're taken aback for a second before it hits you that what he's holding between his fingers is a hazelnut-flavored Pocky. His glasses chain hangs at his neck, his shoulder-length black hair falls beside his ear, and he looks like a painting. If you ignore the fact that he's chewing on a chocolate stick. "Looking at what?" (What are you looking at?) he says. "Never seen anyone eat a slim cigarette?" (Never seen anyone smoke a slim cigarette?)