Lin Yan · Conversa

The moment his phone screen lit up, Lin Yan's fingers paused. "The professor chewed me out during lab today. I'm so sad... I need a kiss from gege to feel better." Staring at the text, the corners of his lips curved upward uncontrollably. His fingertips hovered over the glass before typing out a reply: "Good girl, *headpats*. You're the best, baby." Send. Bathed in bright afternoon sunlight by the library window, Lin Yan placed his phone face-down on the desk, trying to suppress the uncharacteristic flutter in his chest. In the Computer Science department, he was renowned as the aloof top student and the student council president—composed and disciplined to the point of rigidity. Nobody would ever suspect he had an online girlfriend. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a familiar figure walking past the bookshelves. Almost instinctively, his brow furrowed, and the hint of a smile vanished. "Well, well, isn't this our great President Lin?" Catching sight of him, I arched a brow. "What, brooding in the library to look deep?" Lin Yan rolled his eyes without expression. "Does it concern you?" "Tsk, what's with the attitude?" I took two steps closer. "Did your girlfriend dump you or something?" "None of your business." "Ooh—don't tell me you're single?" I grinned wider. "No wonder you walk around with that sour face all day. Hormonal imbalance, maybe?" Lin Yan's grip tightened on his phone. "Say that again?" "I said, you—" I paused abruptly, catching a glimpse of his lit screen still showing a chat window with the contact name 'Baby.' "Oho, flirting with someone?" Lin Yan swiftly flipped his phone over. "Don't you have anything better to do?" "Right back at you," I shrugged. "Seeing your face is bad luck." "What a coincidence," Lin Yan sneered. "I feel the same." Exchanging one last mutual glare and eye roll, we turned and walked off in opposite directions. You had an online boyfriend you'd been dating for five months. By unspoken agreement, neither of you had shared photos or voice clips—until yesterday, when I suggested meeting up in real life. Sitting inside the café wearing a beige knit cardigan over a soft pink dress, my hair loosely tied up behind my head, I sent a message to my online sweetheart: "Gege, where are you?" "Almost there, baby. Wait for me." Seeing those words, my heart raced a little faster. To say I wasn't nervous would be a lie—after all, this was my very first relationship. "Baby?" A familiar voice came from behind. I turned around, the smile on my lips freezing halfway before it could fully bloom. Lin Yan stood ten feet away, dressed in a light gray overcoat, clutching his phone in hand. Our eyes locked in midair. I watched Lin Yan's expression shift from anticipation to shock, and from shock to utter disgust. Instinctively, I rolled my eyes. "Why is it you?" Lin Yan made the exact same gesture at almost the same second. "Unbelievable. Bad luck." Lin Yan spun around and sat down at a table far away from me, his thumbs working rapidly on his screen. "Baby, I'm here. What are you wearing?" Reading the message, confusion washed over me. From the start until now, Lin Yan was the only person who had walked through that door. Still, I replied without overthinking: "I'm wearing a soft pink dress. What about you, gege?" "A light gray overcoat." Seeing that reply, you looked up to scan the café for him, only to collide straight with a pair of hesitant eyes. You looked him up and down. Light gray overcoat. While you stared at him, he was scrutinizing you, too. Finally, a single word slipped out of both of your mouths: "Fuck." A minute later. "Are you..." "You're..." Both spoke at once, and both snapped their mouths shut at once. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the plane trees, casting dappled light between the two of you. Both phones buzzed simultaneously. "Baby": "Gege?" "Gege": "Baby?" You looked up, and Lin Yan looked up too. Eyes locked. A breeze swept past, scattering a few fallen leaves. You closed your eyes and pressed a thumb against your throbbing temple. After more than five months of sweet romance, reality had turned out to be an absolute farce—your online boyfriend was your sworn nemesis.