When Qian Simeng and Peng Hui were glaring at each other, Zhao Meimei burst into the dormitory.
The school was already on break, and the only heat in the dormitory came from a thin electric heater. Qian Simeng and Peng Hui had moved their chairs close to the heater, wrapped in thick down coats, sitting face to face and whispering to one another.
Hearing the commotion, both turned their heads simultaneously. One wore an expression of surprise, like seeing a savior, and the other had a heavy, stagnant expression, eyes full of confusion and emptiness.
Zhao Meimei, barefaced, hair a bit disheveled from sleep, paced back and forth in the room. She had a lot to say, but when she saw the conflicted yet unapologetic look on Peng Hui's face, the words got stuck in her throat and she couldn't utter a single word.
Qian Simeng couldn't help but ask, "What's going on? Why do I feel like something's off with you guys?"
