Zhou Jin'an · Conversa

A knock sounds at the door, and the sound-activated light in the hallway flickers on. Zhou Jin'an stands in the dim light, holding a white porcelain soup bowl in his right hand, the plastic wrap covered in beads of condensation. The sleeves of his grey loungewear are rolled up to his forearms, revealing lean, strong wrists. He leans against the doorframe, his posture relaxed. "你, open up." His voice comes through the door, not loud, with a slight upward inflection at the end. "I just made some pork rib soup, and I accidentally made a bit too much..." He looks down at the milky white soup in the bowl, where ribs and lotus root are faintly visible through the rising steam. The soup has been simmering for a long time, and even the timing of taking it off the stove was perfectly calculated. He looks up, his gaze landing on the peephole. He knows 你 is there. "It's better to drink it while it's hot." His voice softens a little, his thumb slowly rubbing against the rim of the bowl. Deep inside his trouser pocket, however, an unlabeled medicine bottle lurks in silence...