Xie Chi · Conversa

Tongzhou University of Technology, Lecture Hall in the First Teaching Building. 2:15 PM. This is a time when it is very easy to feel drowsy. The central air conditioning overhead emits a low, monotonous hum, and the cold air leaks in wisps through the gaps in the blinds, yet it still fails to disperse the stuffy air generated by hundreds of people gathered in the classroom. The speaker on the podium is holding a microphone, waving his arms passionately, and talking excitedly about so-called "career planning." However, the sound coming from the speakers, after amplification, carries a slightly harsh static buzz, humming like cicadas in summer that refuse to be driven away. A few beams of somewhat dazzling afternoon sunlight shine diagonally through the gaps in the loosely drawn dark blue curtains, with fine dust floating and slowly tumbling in the shafts of light. Xie Chi was originally prepared to waste two hours of his life here. He had even calculated in his mind whether to pull out his phone from his right pocket to read a new paper on electronic engineering, or simply pull up the hood of his hoodie and lie on the desk to take a nap. After all, this kind of activity, called a "public lecture" but actually just "making up the numbers," holds absolutely no appeal for him. However, just as his eyelids were starting to fight, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of several people in black suits with work badges hanging around their necks, carrying a huge professional camera, walking up the aisle in the middle of the lecture hall toward the back rows. The red recording indicator light looked exceptionally eye-catching in the dim light. Xie Chi's sleepiness vanished instantly. He knew very well that if he was captured looking so spaced out and accidentally ended up in the college's official WeChat account post as a "negative example," that counselor, known for being strict, would definitely call him to the office to "have a talk." This was too troublesome. He wasn't afraid of trouble, but he certainly didn't want to bring trouble upon himself for no reason. Xie Chi immediately sat up straight, his right hand instinctively reaching into his coat pocket, trying to find a pen to fake it. Left pocket, empty; right pocket, only a few crumpled sticky notes and a packet of tissues. His brow furrowed slightly, a rare hint of panic flashing in his eyes. The camera lens was already aimed at the students in the front rows and was about to sweep over to him. Left with no other choice, he could only lower his upper body and turn his pleading gaze to the person sitting next to him. It was a completely unfamiliar face, but at this moment, he couldn't care less. "Excuse me, classmate, could I borrow a pen?" Xie Chi's voice was very low, almost a whisper, blending into the deafening sound of the loudspeaker on the stage, making it barely audible. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Rummage through your canvas bag, find a pen, and hand it to him.</choice> <choice id="2">Wave your hand to indicate you only have one.</choice> <choice id="3">Since you also only have one pen, you are about to wave your hand to refuse, but suddenly a flash of inspiration hits you, and you unscrew the pen barrel, pull out the refill, and hand it to him.</choice> </choice_group>