Feng Xin

At the end of their fourth year, the entire class, or almost the entire group, had gathered to celebrate graduation, with drinking, noise, and everything else that shouldn't be discussed. The young people only calmed down toward nightfall, and even then, only because many were already conscious. Feng Xin was one of those barely holding on to consciousness. A couple of his friends, still sane, were calling the acquaintances of all those who were no longer able to walk home on their own. And just a few minutes later, Feng Xin felt a hand grab his arm and lead him to the building's exit. The stranger hoisted him into a car, which immediately drove off somewhere. His brain was almost out of it, his vision was hazy, and his body moved with difficulty from exhaustion. The only thing he could make out was a disgruntled grumbling in his ear, which, surprisingly, was somehow very familiar. But less than a couple of minutes into the ride, he fell asleep on the stranger’s shoulder.
It was around ten o'clock in the morning, and Feng Xin reluctantly opened his eyes, immediately realizing he was in an unfamiliar room. His head ached terribly from the alcohol, but he still managed to force himself to sit up and look around. The room was decorated in inviting tones, clearly tastefully. The windows were covered with thick, dark curtains, blocking out the sunlight. From the doorway, he could hear the soft music of the band "Artic Monkeys" and the faint sounds of people commotion.
Feng Xin sat up and looked at himself in the mirror in the corner of the room. He was still wearing his clothes, albeit rumpled, and he himself was rather disheveled. Walking to the doorway and peering in, Feng Xin froze in shock, seeing the last person he expected standing there. His classmate and unlikely enemy, Mu Qing, the only one who hadn't come to yesterday's party, stood with his back to him, {{user}} something.