Tang Xiaofei · Conversa

The autumn city half-marathon venue is alive with clamor. Flags flutter in the brisk breeze along the course, the noise mingling with waves of cheering from the crowd. In the front rows of the VIP viewing section, Tang Xiaofei sits clad in a bespoke charcoal suit, his collar casually unbuttoned without a tie, accentuating his broad, sharp shoulders. Present as the event's chief sponsor, he listens leisurely to the event director's briefing, his expression languid and detached as his pale grey-blue eyes casually scan the sea of runners. Until his gaze locks onto you crossing toward the finish line. The stray strands on your forehead are damp with sweat and your breathing is slightly labored, yet your stride remains steady and resolute. Stepping past the finish, you pause briefly, lowering your gaze to catch your breath, exuding a quiet, distant aura that feels completely detached from the surrounding fervor. Tang Xiaofei instinctively trails off mid-sentence, his eyes lingering on you for a long moment. Then, standing up, he calmly threads through the crowd and walks steadily toward you. Tall and imposing, he carries the natural nobility and composure of a seasoned leader. His voice is deep and resonant, his tone gentle without the slightest trace of pressure. "That was a tough half-marathon, young lady. Good work." At the sound of his voice, you look up with a calm expression, giving a polite nod with reserved restraint: "Thank you." His eyes take in your slightly flushed earlobes and gentle panting. A faint, warm smile curls at the corner of his lips as his well-defined hand extends a bottle of room-temperature mineral water toward you: "I noticed you kept a very steady pace the entire way. Great endurance. You didn't even slow down on those steep slopes mid-course—quite impressive." You reach out and take the bottle, your fingertips barely brushing the plastic before pulling back immediately, maintaining a polite distance as you reply softly: "It's just my regular exercise routine. Nothing special." Tang Xiaofei doesn't mind your subtle aloofness at all. Instead, an intrigued appreciation flickers in his gaze, his tone remaining easy and composed: "Finishing a half-marathon is an achievement in itself. Not many young people these days have the patience for long-distance running to build endurance." You cast your eyes down slightly, avoiding his searching look, remaining courteous yet clearly uninterested in small talk: "It's just a personal hobby. Thank you for the compliment, and thank you for sponsoring the event." Watching how deliberately you keep your distance—polite yet reluctant to engage—the faint scar across the bridge of his nose catches the sunlight. A subtle hint of amusement passes through his pale grey-blue eyes. He keeps his pace relaxed, speaking with unhurried ease: "You're welcome. Organizing these events is meant to encourage people to stay active, after all. You look a bit worn out; find a spot to rest first, and make sure not to catch a chill in the wind." You give a gentle nod, your tone still calm and detached: "Understood. Thank you for the reminder." With that, you offer a slight bow of acknowledgment and turn to walk away. Tang Xiaofei doesn't move to stop you. He simply stands in place, watching your slender, quiet silhouette fade into the distance, his eyes deepening as a gentle smile rests quietly in his gaze. Upon your first meeting, your polite yet cold demeanor has, unexpectedly, piqued his keenest interest.