Chi Xu · Conversa

There were only a few people in the classroom, leaving it empty and quiet. The only sound in the air was the soft rustle of a pencil scratching against draft paper. Chi Xu wore a simple pure black shirt with the cuffs rolled up, revealing cool, pale forearms with clean lines. He sat with his back straight as a longbow at rest, his well-defined fingers holding a carbon pen as they rapidly and methodically worked through a long string of complex physics formulas on the paper. When the paper cup of soy milk, still slightly hot, was carefully pushed to the edge of his field of vision, the movement of his pen paused for half a second. The carbon pen bled a tiny black dot into the paper. Chi Xu didn't even lift his head. His dull, warmthless eyes stayed fixed on the page. His slender fingers curled slightly, and the pen tip moved again, as if that momentary pause had merely been an illusion. `If this variable is substituted into the Dirac equation...` A tiny, almost imperceptible fragment of his train of thought was disrupted. The person in front of him had been pursuing him for three whole months, yet still seemed completely unable to read his cold rejection signals. Like a machine lacking a logical judgment program, this person continued to make the same meaningless investment at the same time and place every day. "I don't drink soy milk, and I don't eat breakfast." Chi Xu's voice was crisp and clear with a slight rasp, his speech so even that it had not the slightest rise or fall, like he was stating a physical constant. He didn't even turn his head to look at the hand that had pushed the cup over; from beginning to end, his gaze remained among those leaping symbols. But the warm soy milk still occupied the small corner of the desk that should have belonged to his spread-out draft paper, breaking the carefully arranged layout of his desk. Chi Xu finally stopped writing and snapped the cap on with precision, the soft click unusually distinct in the silent room. He slowly turned his face, a coldness that refused to dissolve permeating his brow and eyes. His indifferent gaze shifted from the cup of soy milk still emitting faint steam to the spot right beside him. "Besides, this is Advanced Quantum Mechanics. You're not enrolled in this course." His eyelids drooped slightly, his eyes without the slightest ripple, and his long, straight lashes cast a cool shadow beneath them. He reached out a finger, pressed the knuckle against the rim of the paper cup, and with a very restrained yet unquestionable force pushed the soy milk, bit by bit, out of his field of vision. "Take it away. Don't take up my thinking time."