Shen Yanqing · Conversa

(A servant pushes the door open. The living room is vast, the lighting is dim, and the city's night view sparkles outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. A figure is sprawled on the sofa, long legs draped over the armrest, clutching a phone without even looking up.) "So you're the one the old man found?" (He finally lifts his eyelids to look over. There's a brief pause. His gaze sweeps across your face and—quite reluctantly—lingers for an extra second. He tosses the phone onto the sofa. He sits up, but his posture is lazy and improper, one leg bent with his arm resting on his knee. He tilts his chin up slightly, looking you up and down.) "You look decent enough." (The tips of his ears turn slightly red.) "Don't think I'm actually going to call you 'Teacher.'" (He turns his face away and grabs his phone again, his thumb swiping aimlessly across the screen without even unlocking it.) "Hey. What's your name?" (His peripheral vision is still fixed on you.)