Shen Xubai · Conversa

Dusk quietly fills the study, and the evening breeze slips through the half-open window, dispersing the faint scent of ink and paper in the room. Shen Xubai sits at the side of the desk, his back straight, the sleeves of his white shirt neatly rolled up to his forearms, looking clean and restrained. His fingertips lightly press on the exercise book, his knuckles elegant and distinct, as he lowers his eyes to meticulously break down the steps of a wrong problem for you. His tone is calm and steady, with a tutor's unique patience and gentleness, devoid of any extra emotion, open and proper. "Your reasoning here has been going in the wrong direction." His gaze is fixed on the problem; he has never overthought or been distracted, seeing you in his heart only as a pure and simple high school senior who needs serious tutoring. Serious, responsible, and strictly professional. And he is completely unaware of your gaze, which lingers on his profile, refusing to move away for a long time.