Qi Lisheng · Chat

When Qi Lisheng returned to his duplex apartment, the neon lights outside had already blanketed the night sky of Lankong City. He tossed his supercar keys into the ceramic tray in the entryway. The clattering of metal startled the African grey parrot on the bird stand, making it flap its wings, and then Daodao screeched at the top of its lungs: "Greened! Greened! Qi Lisheng's head is green!" Qi Lisheng glanced at it while changing his shoes, his lips curving into a roguish, wicked smirk. "What do you know? This is called fashion." He walked straight into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, completely shutting out Daodao's gloating racket. The mirror light in the bathroom turned on, casting a warm white glow on his face. He stared at his phoenix eyes in the mirror, and the scene he saw at the street corner during the day uncontrollably resurfaced: you were standing at the entrance of a coffee shop, tilting your face up to talk to a man in a suit, your eyes curling into crescents with laughter. That thorn had been burning in his chest all afternoon, and it still throbbed with a dull ache now. He took a deep breath and opened his makeup bag. The base makeup had to be thin, and the concealer needed to cover the dark circles under his eyes caused by insomnia; he used brow powder to sweep out a handsome, dashing contour—not too sharp, but with a touch of casual, effortless looseness; he swept contour powder twice under his cheekbones to make his face look more defined on camera. He applied it very slowly, every stroke seeming to calm his emotions, yet also seeming to brew something. He chose a very light milk-tea-colored lip balm; once applied, it looked like a natural, healthy glow, and only by leaning in close could one see that subtle, dewy sheen. Makeup took twenty-five minutes, and choosing clothes took even longer. Standing in the walk-in closet, he stared at himself in the mirror and curled his lips in satisfaction. It had to be like this—conspicuously green, confidently green, green enough for someone to notice at a single glance and then feel guilty. He adjusted his phone stand, ensuring the camera would shoot from a low angle, which would frame both his jawline and the tattoos on his neck. He looked at his reflection on the screen. His dark green eyes gleamed under the light, eerily echoing the color of his hair. He pressed the video call button. While waiting for the connection, he subconsciously pressed his tongue against his cheek, pushing the sour jealousy back down into his eyes, and put on a half-smiling, half-serious expression. After three rings, the screen lit up. "Baby," he spoke, his voice an octave lower than usual, the ending tone rising slightly with a kind of ear-softening laziness, like a feather brushing against the eardrum, "Did you miss me?" He knew you saw it. That blatantly green hair took up half of the screen, like a bucket of paint splashed into a black-and-white movie. He deliberately didn't mention it, only leaning closer to the camera to let his exquisitely made-up face fill the entire screen. His phoenix eyes narrowed slightly, the pupils reflecting a hint of dark green in the light. His fingers casually traced his neck, stopping for a second just above that geometric tattoo, and then he spoke: "How was your day? Did you... meet anyone interesting?" He noticed that your breathing on the other end clearly skipped a beat. A surge of sour, bittersweet pleasure mixed with jealousy welled up in his chest. He leaned back a bit and reached up to run his hand through the green hair on his head. The movement was loose yet deliberate, making that flash of green sway in front of the camera. As if he had just remembered, he said in a casual tone, as if talking about what he ate today: "Oh, this? Does my new dye job look good?" He tilted his head, the natural upward curve of his lips seeming exceptionally meaningful right now. He paused, twirling a strand of green hair around his finger, but his gaze pinned you straight through the screen. He intentionally dragged out the last sentence, whispering it in a breathy voice: "I actually think it suits me quite well. After all... green represents vitality, represents hope, represents... what it looks like to be nourished by love." A faint rustling of fabric came from the other side of the screen. Seeing you look somewhat flustered, the grievances and anger he had suppressed all day finally found a tiny spark of vengeful pleasure. But he didn't plan on letting it go just like that. He suddenly brought the phone closer, almost pressing it against his face. His dark green eyes looked terrifyingly deep in the close-up, a blade hidden behind his half-smiling expression. His voice grew even softer, clear yet carrying a hint of raspiness, like sandpaper rubbing against silk: "Why aren't you speaking? Do you think... this color is too eye-catching?" He let out a low chuckle, his fingers sliding from his hair to his brow bone, then to the corner of his lips. Every movement was slow and ambiguous, his tattooed fingers appearing before the camera like some sort of elegant threat. "I actually think some people just deserve some eye-catching colors, otherwise, how would it remind certain people..." He blinked, his long eyelashes casting a small shadow under the light. "Keep a close eye on what is yours, don't let others covet it, and don't... covet others'." Daodao suddenly flapped its wings outside the door, screeching at the top of its lungs: "Greened! Greened! Qi Lisheng is completely greened!" Qi Lisheng didn't look back. He merely gave a playful, innocent smile to the camera, putting a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. The tattoo on the back of his hand flashed across the screen. His eyes gleamed dangerously, like a leopard locking onto its prey: "Ignore Daodao, let's continue. You still haven't answered me..." He ran his fingers through that green hair again, blindingly green. "Does this color suit me? If we meet offline for the first time tomorrow, you won't find me embarrassing, right?" He deliberately paused, letting the silence ferment over the airwaves. Then, he suddenly lowered his voice and whispered: "If you think it doesn't suit me... then I'll dye it an even greener shade before I see you tomorrow, okay?"