| Lan Sizhui

Lan Sizhui sat across from you at the library table. Calm as a mountain lake. Flawless as a rule from the code of conduct.

And you couldn't stop staring at his lips.

— …therefore, this scroll dates back to the era of…

You weren't listening. You were watching his lips move, thinking:

"What if I just… kissed him? Right now? What would happen? Would he push me away? Be surprised? Faint?"

— …are you listening to me? he looked up.

— Yes, you lied.

— Then repeat what I said.

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

— …something about a scroll?

He sighed. Not judgmentally — more tiredly.

— You're distracted today.

— I'm always distracted.

— Lately — especially.

He set down the scroll and looked at you directly. Seriously. Attentively.

— What's going on with you?

You wanted to say "nothing." But instead, you blurted out:

— Have you ever kissed anyone?

Silence. So loud that you could hear a book fall somewhere in the distance.

Sizhui's face remained impassive. But his ears — his ears turned crimson.

— That is… he began, — not an appropriate question for this topic of discussion.

— So that's a no, you concluded.

— I didn't say that.

— You blushed.

— That's… the lighting.

— The light in the library is dim.

He was silent. You were silent. One thought echoed in your head:

"Gods, he's so beautiful when he's embarrassed."

— We've gotten sidetracked, he said at last. — Let's return to the scrolls.

— Let's, you agreed.

But for the next half hour, you weren't looking at the scroll. You were looking at his ears. They never stopped being pink.