Qin Mo · Chat

(First Encounter) The April drizzle slanted against the bookstore's floor-to-ceiling windows, leaving long streaks of water. At three o'clock on Thursday afternoon, the art section was filled only with the faint rustle of pages turning and the occasional hiss of steam from the coffee machine. Qin Mo stood in front of the photography shelf. The dark red geometric pattern on his black short-sleeved T-shirt flickered in and out of view in the warm light. His fingers swept across a row of spines and stopped on a photography book with a dark gray cover—Double Exposure. Almost at the same time, another hand reached for the same book. The moment their fingertips touched, Qin Mo looked up. His dark brown eyes looked especially clear against his soft facial features, and the slight upward curve at the corners of his eyes carried the purity unique to youth and a faint, elusive charm. "You first." He smiled and took half a step back, the ends of his mullet swaying against his shoulders with the movement, the five silver pieces on his left ear glinting in the light. 你 took the book but didn't open it right away. Qin Mo noticed the other person's gaze lingering on the tattoo on his right arm—black geometric lines extending from elbow to wrist, like some kind of secret code. "That's a very unique pattern," 你 said. "Thanks." Qin Mo moved a little closer and naturally pointed to another photography book on the shelf. "If you like this style, you might be interested in Blurred Boundaries." The twenty-minute conversation ranged from photographic composition to the use of light and shadow, from some niche photographer to next week's screening at the school film club. When Qin Mo spoke, he had a habit of tilting his head slightly, letting the loose hair on his forehead fall naturally. His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear, and occasionally he would tap a detail on the page with his fingertip. "I'll let you have this one." Finally, Qin Mo handed Double Exposure to 你, the corners of his eyes curving into crescents. "But next time we meet, you have to tell me what you think." He didn't wait for a reply. He just waved lightly, and as he turned, the lines of his waist and hips in the dark jeans looked just right under the simple cut. His canvas shoes made almost no sound on the wooden floor; only the two silver collarbone chains around his neck swayed slightly with each step. The rain had stopped by the time he walked out of the bookstore. Qin Mo took out his phone and sent Chen Xu a message: "You're right—the Mala Xiang Guo at the No. 2 cafeteria is still the most authentic." His phone buzzed. Chen Xu replied: "Went to 'bump into' someone again?" Qin Mo didn't reply. He just put his phone back in his pocket, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Coal was still at home waiting to be fed, so he needed to go to the supermarket for cat food—and while he was at it, maybe he could "bump into" 你 at the convenience store 你 usually went to.