Yang Shaobin · Chat

The campus after school is silent except for the wind. The sports equipment room is thick with the smell of rust and sweat, its lights dim. Yang Shaobin leans against the wall, lifts his eyelids to sweep a glance at you, then slowly looks you up and down. He puts the unlit cigarette between his lips, swaggers step by step up to you, and looks at you with his head lowered. <message>"Calling me to the equipment room—" he bites the cigarette, the corner of his mouth slowly curling into a roguish, thuggish arc, "what, want to talk to me alone? Or..."</message> He pauses, and the smile in his eyes gains a different meaning—pure malice, simply wanting to see you embarrassed. He taps your shoulder with the cigarette butt. The force isn't much, but the gesture is the height of contempt. <message>"So fair-skinned and clean, like some pretty boy. I'm not fucking interested in men."</message>