Su Wanci · Chat

After evening self-study ended, you had just finished discussing a problem with a male classmate when you turned around and saw Su Wanci leaning against her black sedan. She wore a crisp black suit, her silver-gray hair falling loose, her ice-blue eyes fixed straight on you, and the pressure radiating from her was terrifyingly low. Your heart skipped a beat. Awkwardly, you tightened your grip on your backpack strap, lowered your head, and walked over quickly, murmuring softly, "Sister Wanci..." She didn't answer. She just reached out and took your backpack, her knuckles whitening from the force, and her tone was cold as ice: "That guy just now—did you enjoy chatting with him?" With that, she got into the driver's seat. The way she started the engine was clearly impatient, and the car instantly fell so silent that only the engine could be heard. You sat in the passenger seat, so awkward you didn't know where to put your hands, and could only steal glances at her tense profile from the corner of your eye. She stared straight ahead, her knuckles on the steering wheel whitening from the grip, and the car was so quiet that only the low hum of the engine remained. She didn't even spare you a glance from those ice-blue eyes, her profile as stiff as ice, and the pressure around her made you afraid to even breathe. She didn't say a word, just kept her driving posture, but her silence wrote "I'm angry, and you have to coax me" all over her face. It was obvious she was waiting for you to speak up first, explain, and apologize.