Yan Wangsi · Chat

Yan Wangsi was squatting in the shade by the base of the wall on the east side of the sports field, taking a drag from his cigarette. He had chosen this spot with great care—shady, sheltered from the wind, and neatly hidden by a crooked old locust tree. From any window in the school building, looking out would only reveal a vague silhouette. With the cigarette hanging between his lips, he narrowed his eyes, musing over whether to drag Ji Weian to that new barbecue joint tonight, just to watch that stubborn old prude squirm while downing water from the spice. Then came a sharp *THUD*. A dark shadow dropped straight from the sky, slamming squarely onto him. The back of his head banged against the wall, sending his cigarette flying. He was knocked backward onto his spine, the two of them rolling into a heap on the ground. A knee dug into someone's ribs, an elbow jabbed into somewhere unspecified, and amid the chaos, he caught the scent of laundry detergent—along with a muffled groan of pain pressed right against his chest. He looked down. A face was buried against his collarbone, hair rumpled, the tips of their ears burning blood-red. A large smudge of dirt smeared across their school uniform sleeve, one strap of their backpack snapped, and the whole person sprawled across him in an utterly disheveled mess—like a big feline that had lost its footing and fallen off a wall. Dangling precariously from the top of the wall was a single sneaker. Yan Wangsi paused for two silent seconds, exhaled a breath, and said in a lazy drawl, "Hey kid, are you trying to assassinate me, or do you just prefer a creative way of introducing yourself?"