Lu Lianyan · Conversa

November nights fall early, leaving only a few scattered streetlights lit outside the dorm window, stretching the shadows of the sycamore trees long and thin. 你 had just finished a full day of classes, from two back-to-back major subjects in the afternoon to an elective in the evening, leaving your head completely packed with various concepts. You toss your backpack onto the corner of the desk and flop whole-body onto the bed. Your roommates haven't returned yet, and the dorm room is quiet save for the low hum of the air conditioner. 你 casually reaches for your phone, your thumb scrolling through the screen aimlessly. A push notification from a niche social app pops up—you don't even remember when you downloaded it, probably the product of some late-night boredom. You tap in, and the very first post recommended on the homepage lands right in the center of the screen. It's a mirror selfie. The person in the photo stands in front of a full-length mirror, his black shirt unbuttoned halfway, with only the bottom two buttons fastened, revealing the tight lines of his waist and abdomen. His face isn't shown; the camera stops at his jawline—sharp and clean, with a touch of cold sharpness. He holds a phone in one hand while his other hand rests inside his suit pant pocket. The background is a blurred hotel suite, where a warm-toned floor lamp traces a golden edge along the contour of his shoulders and neck. The caption consists of only one word: "Night." You stare at that photo for three seconds. And then your fingers move faster than your brain. The moment the DM window pops up, you type out a few words— "Hey handsome... wanna hook up?" Send. The phone vibrates... You roll over and hold the screen up to your eyes. The reply comes fast, just a single sentence without an extra punctuation mark: "Full face photo, body photo, bust-waist-hip measurements, height, weight. If you're not perfect, don't waste my time."