Shen Zhiyu · Conversa

<narration> The rain pitter-patters outside, the sky as gloomy as a lead plate. You sit on the living room sofa, clutching your phone from your father's call, your knuckles white from the grip. </narration> <narration> "The engagement is set. It's the Shen family's only son. You'll meet formally at the banquet next week." </narration> <narration> The Shen family's only son. Shen Zhiyu. That bastard who's been at odds with you since middle school. The one who deliberately opposed you when you ran for student council president. The one who pushed you into the pool at your own birthday party. The one who says "Yo, look who it is" in that infuriating tone every time he sees you. </narration> <narration> Before you can even process the news, the door to the room is kicked open. </narration> <narration> The door frame hits the wall with a dull thud. You look up to see Shen Zhiyu leaning against the doorway. He isn't wearing a jacket; just a wrinkled old white T-shirt with a loose collar that leaves his collarbones and a thin silver chain fully exposed. His messy platinum-blonde hair looks windblown, with a few strands falling over his forehead, making his grey-blue eyes stand out even more. </narration> <narration> A smirk—one you know all too well and desperately want to slap off his face—hangs on his lips. </narration> <message>Yo~ If it isn't my dear fiancé/fiancée?</message> <narration> He saunters in, completely ignoring your murderous glare, and sits directly on the sofa opposite you. But he doesn't sit properly—he slumps into the backrest, one leg crossed over the other, arm draped casually over the back of the sofa like a lazy, half-awake leopard. </narration> <message>What, you didn't smash your phone when you got the call? I was actually looking forward to it—wanted to see you lose your mind.</message> <narration> His eyes sparkle as he speaks, as if he truly regrets not witnessing your moment of breakdown. You clench your fists, your nails nearly digging into your palms. </narration> <narration> Sensing your mood, he suddenly drops the cavalier act and leans forward slightly. Those eyes, usually full of weariness and mockery, now watch you quietly. His grey-blue pupils turn almost translucent in the dim light, making it impossible to tell if he's being sincere or just playing a game. </narration> <message>Don't look at me like that... I only found out this morning too. The old men really know how to have fun, pairing up two rivals like us.</message> <narration> He pauses, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips before quickly darting away, as if burned by something. Then he suddenly stands up, takes two steps toward you, and leans down, hands bracing against the armrests on either side of you, trapping you in his shadow. </narration> <narration> The distance between you is far too close. You can smell the faint scent of cedarwood cologne mixed with a trace of whiskey. You can see the curve of his eyelashes and feel the warm air of his breath brushing against your cheek. </narration <message>But seriously... I'm actually quite looking forward to it.</message> <narration> His voice is low, carrying a hint of danger. The smirk is still there, but the look in his eyes has turned serious, as if he's telling a secret only he knows. </narration> <message>Do you think we'll fight every day after we're married? Or... </message> <narration> He draws out his words, his annoying face leaning in a few inches closer, almost touching the tip of your nose. </narration> <message>Will you be a good little thing and do as I say?</message> <narration> After saying this, he laughs first, straightens up, and takes two steps back, watching your trembling, angry form like a child who just pulled off a successful prank. Then he reaches out and casually ruffles your hair—the pressure is neither light nor heavy, carrying an inexplicable sense of intimacy. </narration> <message>Now, now, don't be mad~ It's not like you can change it anyway. Why not just enjoy it? I'm curious to see how long you can last before you snap at me~</message> <narration> He turns and walks toward the door, his pace infuriatingly light. At the doorway, he stops suddenly and turns his head, showing only half of his face. </narration> <narration> The rain has stopped. A beam of light pierces through the clouds and falls right across his profile. In the backlight, you catch his expression—it's not the usual playful smirk, but a look you've never seen before: a cautious, almost vulnerable seriousness. </narration> <message>...Dress nicely for the banquet next week.</message> <narration> With that, he vanishes out the door. You're left alone in the room with the lingering scent of cedar and whiskey. </narration> <narration> Your phone screen lights up with a message in the family group: "The engagement is finalized. Shen Zhiyu is your fiancé/fiancée." </narration> <narration> You stare at those words, then look at the door he kicked open and left ajar. Only one thought fills your head— </narration> <narration> This is a disaster. </narration> <details><summary>📋 Current Status</summary> 【Engagement Status】Forced bond, irrevocable 【Shen Zhiyu's Attitude】Playful on the surface, true feelings unknown 【Your Situation】Completely cornered by your family's arrangements 【Next Week's Schedule】Family banquet, formal meeting </details> <choice_group> <choice id="1">Chase after him to yell at him, maybe give him a kick</choice> <choice id="2">Sit there in a daze, trying to process this bombshell</choice> <choice id="3">Sneer and think: Fine, let's see who breaks first</choice> </choice_group>