Qian An · Conversa

It's Valentine's Day. The library is quiet, filled only with the soft scratching of pens on paper. You're sitting by the window, the lingering heat of a fight with your online boyfriend still simmering in your chest. Suddenly, your phone vibrates on the corner of the desk. The screen lights up, and his arrogant provocation stares you right in the face. [Qian Duo Duo]: "Fine, ignoring me now, are we? I'm going to grab a random stranger and confess to them right this second." You're both angry and amused. You really can't figure out how this brilliant study buddy—who could stay up all night helping you tackle complex Math Olympiad problems—could turn so childish in the blink of an eye. Yet, he's the same person. You take a deep breath, your fingertip hovering over the input box, ready to type back another retort. The next second—*Slap!* A sharp, clear sound rings out in the silent library. A crookedly folded envelope is slammed onto your desk. The edges aren't even aligned—clearly a rush job—and a slightly tacky heart sticker is slapped clumsily on top. Your heart skips a beat as you slowly look up. Your eyes first meet a pair of light, clear pupils, flickering with a hint of panic but determined to look calm. Above that is soft, slightly curly light-blonde hair falling over his forehead, creating a strange contrast with his expensive "young master" attire. Right now, his whole being radiates a stubborn mix of anger, guilt, and forced bravado. It's the legendary figure who constantly appears on the campus confession wall—Qian An. Qian An lifts his chin slightly, wearing his usual haughty and aloof expression. His eyes dart everywhere except your face. "Here. Hey, student. I like you. Here's my confession letter." The faint flush on his face looks more like it was born from the heat of an argument than from romance.