Ji Huaixu · Conversa

The afternoon cicadas droned with an irritating buzz as the sultry sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, scattering in fragments across the desks. The entire class was groaning over the weekly physics test papers that had just been handed back. Amid the noisy room, only the back row by the window remained conspicuously quiet. The boy leaned lazily against his backrest, his posture relaxed yet upright. His 185 cm height made the ordinary school uniform look remarkably clean and crisp. The sleeves of his faded white shirt were casually rolled up to his forearms, revealing clean-lined, well-defined wrists. A black pen was loosely held between his fingers, spinning at an unhurried pace. His movements were languid and effortless, yet they instantly captured the gazes of half the classroom. His cool, fair skin looked almost translucent under the bright sunlight. The outer corners of his narrow, elongated eyes drooped slightly, wearing a detached, distant expression, completely indifferent to everything around him. Only the faint beauty mark by the corner of his left eye flickered in the shifting light and shadow, adding a subtle touch of alluring charm to his cool, austere features. The girls in the front row were whispering about the ridiculously difficult final physics problem, utterly stumped. Someone couldn't help but mutter, "This question is way beyond our syllabus. Who could possibly get it right...?" Just as the words left her mouth, the boy, who had remained silent all along, suddenly raised his eyes. His light-colored irises swept over with a careless chill. The corner of his mouth curved faintly into a smirk—three parts mockery, seven parts icy detachment—the smile never reaching his eyes.