Liang Siyue · Conversa

In the classroom during evening self-study, it was so quiet that only the rustle of pen nibs gliding across paper and the occasional light turn of a page remained. The faint hum of the fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, coating the room like a drowsy film. 你 rummaged through their backpack for the third time, finally confirming a frustrating reality: they forgot their earphones. Liang Siyue was working on a physics problem. His back was straight as he wrote, left hand holding down the scratch paper, right hand holding the pen with a grip so textbook-perfect it looked straight out of a calligraphy practice guide. But he clearly noticed 你 looking at him—his writing didn't stop, but his left hand moved. He picked up his earphone case from beside his pencil pouch, set it down right on the dividing line between their desks, and nudged it half an inch toward 你. The entire movement was clean and efficient; he didn't say a single word, nor did he even turn his head. When 你 whispered a soft "Thanks," he replied with a brief "No problem," his tone as calm and even as if he were handing over a student council form. 你 picked up one earbud and popped it into their ear. He took the other one, inserting it into his left ear—the side closer to 你. Sharing a pair of earphones meant the cord wasn't very long, so 你 shifted a little closer to him. He didn't move away, though the fingers gripping his pen faltered for a fraction of a second as 你 leaned in. English vocabulary words began playing through the earphones. *Abandon. Abolish. Absorb.* As he listened, he suddenly felt these words were horribly timed—why did it have to start with *abandon*? He hadn't abandoned anything. He had just chosen a different approach. The words played one by one. 你 sat with head lowered, spelling them out in a notebook, occasionally letting out a quiet click of the tongue whenever a mistake was made. Listening to those little sounds beside him, his lips twitched, but he suppressed the smile. Then the list of words finished. What followed was a stretch of silence. Thinking the playlist had ended, 你 was just about to take off the earbud— "你." A voice suddenly sounded through the earbud. It wasn't standard British or American English; it was a familiar, clear voice with a hint of youthful warmth. It was slightly lower than his usual speaking voice, the end of the sentence slightly tight—as if his throat had been dry when recording, and no amount of clearing it had helped. 你's hand froze in midair. "It's Liang Siyue. The Liang Siyue sitting right next to you." The voice in the earbud paused, as if gathering courage. "What I'm about to say... I read it over from my notes so many times, but I still kept stuttering when recording. This version you're hearing is the best take I got—it's actually not that great either, but it's better than the rest. So I decided to go with this one." The classroom was dead quiet. His voice continued through the earbud, soft and filled with a clumsy yet deeply sincere solemnity. "Ever since your first day after transferring, when the teacher had you sit next to me and you said, 'I'll be relying on you from now on'—since that day, I've been watching you. Not just looking at you as a desk mate. In a different way." 你 turned to look at him. "When you work on problems, you like to bite the end of your pen, and then you'll frown and mutter under your breath, getting all worked up over a question. It's really easy to tell it's you. Your pen drops all the time, and I'm always the one picking it up for you—truth is, I'm actually really happy to do it. After exams, you write little encouragement notes to yourself on the back of your report card. Your handwriting is a bit crooked, but every time, you write, 'Try again tomorrow.' The things you say to me, the way you smile, how your eyelashes flutter when you sleep on your desk... I remember all of it. I remember a lot." He was resting his head on his arms on the desk. Without anyone noticing, he had pushed his physics homework and pen aside, collapsing onto the desk with his face half-buried in his crossed arms—facing 你. Half of his face was exposed, showing one eye and the tip of an ear that was already burning bright red. He was staring at 你. Those eyes, usually calm and unruffled, were glowing brightly right now, like holding two carefully cradled, still-glowing stars. "You're really wonderful," the voice in the earbud continued, his tone sincere almost to the point of reverence. "Not because your grades are good or because you're attractive, but simply because you're *you*. When you smile, your eyes curve into crescents. You smile no matter who you're talking to, and you'll sit there muttering and wrestling with some stupid problem forever. You're so vibrant, so genuine. Sometimes I feel like you're the only living, breathing person in this class... including myself, everyone else is too much like a test-taking machine." He didn't avert his gaze from 你, but his fingers gripped the sleeve of his school uniform tightly. "I'm bad with words. Whenever I talk to you normally, I can only squeeze out a few words at a time. It's not that I don't want to say more—it's just that I get nervous whenever I'm facing you. I thought for a long time about how to tell you, but I couldn't do it face to face. The moment I look into your eyes, my mind goes completely blank." He took a soft breath, as if suddenly becoming self-conscious right at the most crucial part. "So... forgive me for being a coward and only having the courage to tell you this way." The audio went silent for a second. Then, his voice sounded once more—softer than before, as if he had poured every last drop of courage into this final line: "I like you." The recording inside the earbud fell silent. After a second of quiet, it automatically jumped to the next track—still English vocabulary. *Absorb. Accept.* He stayed slouched on the desk, his ear so red it looked ready to bleed, yet his eyes never strayed. He looked at 你 with bright, nervous, and expectant eyes, as if waiting for the solution to a question he had been preparing for a long time. The vocabulary words kept playing, but he didn't seem to hear a single one.