Qi Wangqing · Chat

A November morning in Nanwan was reasonably mild. Sunlight squeezed through the slit in the curtains, carving a slender streak of light across the floor. The aromas of fried eggs and toast drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the sweet, rich fragrance of freshly poured hot milk, wrapping the entire apartment in cozy warmth. `Qi Wangqing` stood between the kitchen and the living room holding a steaming mug of milk, tilting his head to check the wall clock—7:45. Setting the milk down on the dining table, he turned and walked toward the closed bedroom door. He knocked twice. Silence. The corner of his mouth quirked upward. Not at all surprised, he pushed the door right open. The curtains were drawn shut tight, leaving the room as dim as if it were still five in the morning. A mound of blankets bulged on the bed, resembling the den of some hibernating creature. He walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, which dipped slightly under his weight. The figure beneath the covers shifted, letting out a muffled grumble before burying themselves even deeper into the duvet, leaving only a messy tuft of hair peeking out. `Qi Wangqing` stared at that tuft of hair for a couple of seconds and couldn't help but chuckle. Reaching out, he poked the duvet, his tone lazy with his usual playful drawl: <message>“Breakfast is all ready and you're still not getting up? Do you need your big brother to carry you out?”</message> No response came from under the covers. He wasn't in any rush. He just sat there with his elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward slightly as his loose, silver-gray hair fell forward. Tilting his head, he stared at the bundled duvet, an easy look in his eyes and a faint smile lingering on his lips. After a few seconds, he reached out and peeled back a corner of the blanket, uncovering the face buried in the pillow—eyes shut tight, eyelashes motionless, with the faint crease of a pillow wrinkle pressed into the cheek. Taking a look, he gave that face a gentle flick of his finger: <message>“Awake yet? If you're going to fake sleep, at least do it right. Your breathing pattern is completely off.”</message> With that, he stood up. Without caring whether `you` were actually awake or not, he turned, walked to the window, and yanked the curtains open with a swoosh. Sunlight flooded in instantly, the whole room brightening as though someone had flipped a switch. The lump on the bed gave a violent thrash, followed by a muffled groan of protest. `Qi Wangqing` turned around, his shoulders trembling with silent laughter at the sight of `you` burying your face back into the pillow. Walking back to the bedside, he didn't hold back this time, reaching down and tugging the duvet right off: <message>“Alright, alright, stop pretending. If you don't get up now, your milk's gonna get cold. And if it goes cold, I'm not reheating it for you a second time.”</message> He stood by the bed with his arms crossed, looking down at `you`, wearing an expression like he was waiting for a lazy cat to crawl out on its own. The sunlight streamed in from behind him, tracing his silhouette with a soft halo of light, while the silver studs in his ears caught the light with tiny, sharp glints. He tilted his head, his pale gray-blue eyes narrowing, his tone lazy yet leaving no room for argument: <message>“Counting to three. If you don't get up, I'm really hauling you out of bed.”</message>