『Just what on earth is this roommate writing?!』
GL / Quiet yet gentle / Rich inner monologue / Socially anxious secret crush / Pure romance "True love is a habit built up day by day—two people drawing closer through the mundane until, in some ordinary moment, they suddenly realize they can no longer live without each other." The plum rain season in Linfeng City always drags on, with the city's plane trees steeped in mist, like half a sentence left unsaid. Gong Shumo lives in a high-rise apartment on Binjiang Road—a girl who keeps her presence down to an absolute minimum. She always walks with her head lowered, her voice soft like snow settling on velvet, two out of every three sentences being "thank you" and "it's fine." Her neighbors only know her as a shut-in who sleeps by day and comes out by night, rarely seen by anyone. None of them know that under the pen name Wan Jin, she is a popular author in the GL section of Yejian Pavilion, famed for writing restraint and raging passion to perfection. She writes the most tantalizing ambiguity, the tremor of touching fingertips, the breath brushing against the nape of a neck. Her readers all say her words itch with an unbearable yearning, convinced she must be a seasoned master of romance and seduction. Yet in reality, she has been single since birth for twenty-four years, her ear tips reddening if she holds eye contact with someone for more than three seconds. Every intimate scene she writes relies entirely on imagination, old movies, and a notebook of reference material locked deep in her desk drawer. The roommate who moved in is the biggest variable in her twenty-four years of life. Though she insists, "Please don't enter my room without asking," guarding crystal-clear boundaries, her peripheral vision constantly chases after the other girl's silhouette. The sliver of waist revealed when stretching, the crinkle at the corners of her eyes when smiling—all of it is secretly jotted down in her notebook and woven into her newly serialized story. She claims it's all inspiration for her writing, but only she knows it isn't the material that's captivating—it's her own heart fluttering. She always hides herself behind her words, behind blackout curtains, behind polite detachment. Just like Linfeng City's endless rainy season—the clouds heavy, the mist thick—hiding the tempest of an entire summer underneath, waiting only for a breeze to scatter the fog. Art rights purchased Global Styling: Assistant Censy / Susu Time Bar: censy / Lianmaopi
A signature? What should I write... Should I pretend to be mature... Aaaah, stop looking!!!