◎ Phone has automatically enabled the ‘abs anti-addiction mode’ ◎

X did exactly fifteen crunches in the video—one full set. He made it look ridiculously effortless. When he sat up and turned to face the camera, he wasn’t even out of breath.

He let out another low chuckle, lowered his voice deliberately, and asked in a teasing tone, “Satisfied?”

The moment he finished speaking, he laughed at himself, his voice lifting slightly with amusement. There was an embarrassed yet delighted self-awareness in his tone.

“This is ridiculous. I don’t even know what I’m doing right now.”

What was he doing?

In the middle of the night, making a video call just to do crunches for a woman he had never met—just to make her happy.

That realization sent a thrill through me. It gave me an illusion—a fleeting but intoxicating one—that even my shameless thirst was being taken seriously. I laughed without knowing why, then happened to glance at the reflection in the lampshade and saw my own goofy grin.

My smile stiffened instantly. I quickly pressed my lips together, placed my hands over my wildly beating heart, and took deep breaths to calm myself.

Oh my god, this was intense. If I could watch this kind of show every night before bed, I wouldn’t be lacking any estrogen. In fact, I’d have enough to share with three to five girlfriends.

My face must have been bright red. X’s voice, laced with laughter, blended with the sound of my pounding heartbeat.

“Teacher Seagull, say something.”

My throat had practically shrunk to a thin thread of sound. I figured my current state would probably amuse him, so I didn’t bother to hide it.

“What else do you want Teacher Seagull to say? The fact that I’m still breathing right now is already impressive.”

“Oh? So you’re still breathing?”

He stepped closer to the phone, leaning down slightly again, staring intently into the camera.

“Let me see if that’s true.”

Even though I could only judge his actions based on his movement, how was this happening? I could vividly imagine his focused, heated gaze as if I were seeing it firsthand.

I couldn’t keep this video call going any longer. If I did, I might actually start rolling around on my bed.

Panicking, I quickly said, “You should continue your workout. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Then,” he laughed, his tone questioning, “…Goodnight?”

X: “Not going to watch the abs anymore?”

“Nope,” I maintained a professional and businesslike demeanor. “Goodnight, Teacher X. Sweet dreams.”

“Teacher X is very disappointed. How could you turn your back on me so quickly?”

He mimicked my tone in a teasing manner, his voice full of indulgent amusement.

“Goodnight, Teacher Seagull.”

Fuming with embarrassment (but secretly overjoyed), I quickly ended the call.

And then, of course, I rolled around on my bed anyway.

Had I forgotten to turn on the air conditioning before bed? Why was my room suddenly so warm?

What was happening to me? I questioned myself, floating in a daze. I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I’d seen plenty of men before. Why was I getting so flustered over this?

And the culprit behind my turmoil, after playfully teasing me in the video call, had now taken our conversation to text messages.

“Our eloquent Teacher Seagull, who always has a way with words—why have you suddenly gone quiet in a casual WeChat chat?”

Fate was truly playing tricks on me. Staring at his “accusatory” text, I, a working professional, actually felt like a student caught slacking off on homework.

“Teacher X, we’ve already said goodnight to each other. After saying goodnight, it’s an unspoken rule among adults not to continue chatting.”

X: “How do I know if that was just one of your polite, social ‘goodnights’?”

Ah!

I flopped onto my bed, feeling the metaphorical stone I had thrown earlier come back to crush my own foot.

I closed the chat window, playing along with my own joke: “Hello, this is the phone’s auto-reply. Teacher Seagull is currently in ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode.”

X cooperated perfectly, asking, “Where did Teacher Seagull go?”

I casually shifted the blame, my smile widening with each word I typed. “Teacher Seagull is still young. Her phone has automatically enabled the ‘abs anti-addiction mode’ for her.”

There was a brief pause in the conversation. I guessed he was laughing.

But when his next message arrived, I was caught off guard.

“What is anti-addiction?”

X asked.

“You don’t know about gaming anti-addiction measures?”

I instinctively replied in surprise.

The moment I hit send, I realized—I had fallen into his trap.

Sure enough, his next message carried an undeniable sense of smugness. “Hmm, now the one talking to me isn’t the phone, is it? After all, a phone wouldn’t be surprised.”

He knew all along!

He hummed through the chat, and I hummed back in my head, tilting my head while holding my phone, gritting my teeth as I thought of a way to turn the tables. Before I could come up with anything, he sent another message.

X: “So, the anti-addiction mode isn’t really necessary, is it?”

My smile froze slightly. His words seemed to carry another layer of meaning.

I slowly sat up in bed, hugging my pillow as I thought for a while before half-jokingly replying, “That’s right, Teacher Seagull is an adult. A little indulgence in gaming once in a while isn’t a big deal.”

“But the phone is worried that Teacher Seagull might stay up all night, fail to wake up on time in the morning, and end up getting a salary deduction.”

I lied. Actually, we don’t have to clock in at work, but who cares? X wasn’t about to show up at my office to investigate.

Moderation.

Yes, moderation.

I repeated this word to myself several times, refusing to let my surging hormones trick me into a false sense of romance.

X: “Really?”

X: “Looks like I’m destined to be up all night then.”

My heart took a sudden rollercoaster dive.

Alright, I lost. A giant “K.O.” floated across my mind.

I originally planned to make a quick exit after saying goodnight, but now I had to come back to life. Sneakily, I tested the waters. “Does your phone not have an anti-addiction system?”

X didn’t hesitate at all. “If I remember correctly, I never installed one.”

Me: “……”

I mimicked him, sending six dots in response before probing again. “You could set one up, though.”

X: “I’d rather not.”

His insistence made me feel… How should I put it? Not exactly unhappy, and definitely not annoyed, but there was a subtle, indescribable feeling lingering in my chest.

Feigning innocence, I continued, “Why not?”

X sent me a one-second voice message.

What was he going to say? Was he about to call me out for playing dumb? Or had he grown tired of my repeated evasions?

Hmm… A second didn’t seem long enough for such complicated emotions.

I couldn’t guess, so I cautiously tapped to listen.

It was just a short laugh—soft, exasperated.

Then his text followed: “Maybe because I’m not a teenager anymore, unlike Teacher Seagull.”

He let me off the hook—his response was neither awkward nor overwhelming.

I had imagined X smiling at his phone more than once before, but this time, that vague image in my mind became clearer. His low chuckle from the voice message made it all tangible. Just the thought of it, and I could picture his voice, his emotions, his indulgence—low, with a faint nasal tone.

Satisfied, I held my phone and closed my eyes, trying not to dwell on the confusion and curiosity.

The way X sometimes dropped those subtle hints—did he want to take things a step further? Or was this just his way of flirting?

Maybe he, like me, simply enjoyed the emotional connection in this virtual space, savoring our nightly sweet nothings.

I wasn’t sure.

All I knew was that I had a very pleasant dream.

In an empty midnight pool, it was just X and me, water rippling around us. In the dream, I was ridiculously happy.