◎ I Am Just a Bold and Open Little Yellow Person ◎

It was as if the world had come to a standstill.

From my angle, I could see X lowering his head slightly, staring at his phone. The screen dimmed, but he remained motionless—had he turned to stone? He looked like a statue.

Of course, I felt a little shy, but the overwhelming feeling was joy. I sent him a notification alarm, making a show of waking him up: “Hello, Teacher X, are you…meditating?”

X’s gaze slowly lifted from his phone to the hotel window. I imagined his eyes were focused, intense, carrying a hint of dominance.

Oh my god, just the thought of those unseen eyes looking at me made my heart tremble with happiness.

X stared in my direction for a long time before finally lowering his head to type.

I held my phone tightly, feeling restless with anticipation. But when his message arrived, it was surprisingly calm: “Go rest early. I’m leaving.”

Then, another message popped up right after: “If I don’t leave now, I might not be able to stop myself from rushing up there.”

The restrained yet subtly possessive tone made me feel dizzy. I took full advantage of the situation, softening my rejection into a playful joke: “Oh? And then you’d get caught by hotel security.”

X: “I’d say I’m looking for someone, but I don’t know the room number or the name. The security guards would probably call the police.”

Me: “Disrupting public order.”

X: “Administrative detention.”

Me: “Would that affect three generations from taking the civil service exam?”

X: “Not sure.”

How could such a simple back-and-forth make me laugh until my cheeks ached? Just as I was racking my brain for a clever comeback, X suddenly went silent for a moment before throwing out a completely unexpected question:

“Do you care?”

Would it affect three generations from taking the civil service exam—

Do you care?

I froze for a second, caught off guard by the vaguely aggressive implication. Feeling a bit flustered, I instinctively urged him to leave: “You should head back now. It’s late, and I need to sleep. Big battle tomorrow.”

After a few seconds, X replied with a single word, devoid of emotion: “Okay.”

I felt a little uneasy, slightly deflated, though I knew rationally it was just a wave of emotion stirred up by fluctuating hormones. I decided not to dwell on it.

I patted my slightly warm cheeks, trying to clear my head. But just as my phone touched my face, it vibrated, startling me.

It was X again.

“Are you still by the window?”

I was, of course. But I deliberately denied it: “No. Why?”

At the same time, I couldn’t help but lift the curtain again.

To make it seem like I was unaffected? How silly, how childish.

I laughed at myself in my head, but my gaze had already drifted back to my personal moonlight.

X asked: “Then, would you be willing to come back for a moment? Just to look at me one more time?”

Leaning against the window frame, I chuckled. “Why?”

X: “I forgot to put my hands in my pockets just now. Didn’t look cool enough.”

I immediately looked over. Sure enough, he had changed his stance—one hand tucked into his pocket, leaning against the lamppost, deliberately exaggerating the pose just to make me laugh.

The tiny awkwardness I had felt from his earlier “Do you care?” completely vanished. I laughed so hard my shoulders shook.

“What are you looking at so happily in the middle of the night?”

The sudden voice from behind nearly made me jump out of my skin. Turning around, I saw my coworker fresh out of the shower, towel-drying her hair with a puzzled look.

I quickly dropped the curtain. “Just watching a funny video on my phone.”

She didn’t suspect anything and simply responded with an “Oh.” Walking towards her bed, she suddenly turned back, giving me a teasing smile: “Lexin, I’ve noticed something. You’ve been smiling a lot lately.”

“Huh? Really?”

A little alarmed, I turned toward the bathroom, trying to laugh it off. “I’ve always been a cheerful person. You only just noticed?”

“No, no, it’s not that kind of ‘haha’ laughter. It’s… more like a gentle, spring breeze kind of smile. Hmm? Hmm?? That’s not normal.”

I had almost escaped into the bathroom when she grabbed my arm.

The curiosity in her eyes was practically burning a hole in me as she pressed on playfully: “Come on, be honest. Is there something going on?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll confess.” I raised both hands in surrender. “I wasn’t watching a funny video just now. It was… abs. A picture of abs!”

“Oh my god! In broad daylight, you actually—” She gasped in mock horror before quickly changing her tone. “Who? I need this too.”

“Alright, alright, we’re besties, aren’t we? Let me share my favorite fitness influencers with you.”

I sent her all the accounts of a few fitness influencers recommended to me by my trainers, finally wrapping up this little incident.

Why did I lie?

Honestly, I didn’t think much at the time—it was just an instinctive reaction. But thinking back, maybe deep down, I never saw my connection with X as something I should introduce to my coworkers or friends.

I grabbed my toiletries and a change of clothes, heading into the bathroom. But of course, I didn’t forget my phone.

The first thing I did after closing the door was check my messages.

Two minutes ago, X had asked: “Did you see?”

When I didn’t reply, he followed up with a self-deprecating remark: “I think I overdid it. Looked kind of lame. I’ll try to be more cool next time.”

Eager to soothe this “wounded little boy,” I beamed and typed: “You looked cool, super cool, very cool.”

I went all in with the praise: “Do you know why I didn’t reply just now? I was so mesmerized by your coolness that even my fingers refused to move.”

X: “……”

X: “Teacher Seagull, that’s a bit much.”

I sent a crying cat emoji. “Oh no… too much again?”

X: “Yes. You should’ve stopped at ‘super cool.’”

I chuckled softly, my fingers tapping swiftly. “Have you left? I’m about to take a shower.”

X paused for a moment. “?”

After traveling frequently and staying in hotels of varying standards, I had developed the habit of bringing my own toiletries. As I placed each item neatly in the shower, I casually asked, “What’s wrong?”

X: “Hmm, kissing, showering.”

X: “Teacher Seagull, I really… What do you think would be the appropriate thing for me to say right now?”

I swear, when I said I was going to shower, I had absolutely no hidden meaning! But thinking back to how I had teased him before when he mentioned taking a shower, my face turned red with embarrassment. I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of justice—what goes around comes around.

X: “Teacher Seagull, I am an adult man.”

A spark ignited into a raging fire in my heart, spreading uncontrollably. Yet, I still tried to cover it up with my response. “Suit yourself. Just say whatever it is you originally wanted to say.”

He refused outright, saying no. “In this situation, my original thoughts might come across as a little inappropriate.”

X: “Correction—very inappropriate.”

That kind of unspoken “inappropriateness” made my heart race. I had always been someone who embraced adult jokes with an open mind, but his subtle hints sent my face burning.

Realizing that I couldn’t let this go on any longer—I still had work to do—I ruthlessly ended the conversation for the night. “Time waits for no one. No matter what you want to say, I’m going to shower now. Goodbye.”

X: “Goodnight.”

X: “Teacher Seagull, goodnight.”

X: “Goodnight.”

His lingering goodnights came one after another, as if he was reluctant to part. Seeing my own reflection in the mirror, I grinned like a delighted three-year-old. Without hesitation, I messily typed back on WeChat, “Alright, alright! Goodnight, goodnight!!!”

I smacked my phone face-down onto the sink and forced myself to resist the urge to reach for it again. Instead, I made a beeline for the shower, shutting the door and turning on the water in one swift motion.

As the warm water hit my skin, the sweet scent of peach-scented body wash filled the air. X showing up downstairs like a silent guardian had been a bit reckless, but surprisingly, I didn’t find it off-putting. I had to admit—his striking looks left a lasting impression on me, so much so that my entire shower time passed in a hazy blur.

His looks were truly outstanding. It can be said that even if his facial features had been utterly unattractive, his overall presence alone would still make people consider him a “handsome man.”

But of course, with such an exceptional aura, it was unlikely that he would look bad.

What did he actually look like? Were his eyes big or small? Did he have a high nose bridge? Were his lips full or thin?

Oh no. Oh no. I lowered the water temperature, lifted my face, and let the strong stream of water cool my burning cheeks.

This was bad. My curiosity about X was skyrocketing, completely off the charts. It was unprecedented—almost as if I was about to float up into the clouds.