Chapter Text
The late afternoon sun, a rare golden spill in Shanghai's often-hazy autumn, streamed through the tall art room windows, cutting through the dusty air like a spotlight. Chi Cheng, notorious for his calculated movements and detached gaze, found himself halted at the doorway, a sudden, unfamiliar magnetism pinning him to the threshold. He was supposed to be heading to the student council meeting, a chore he usually approached with ruthless efficiency.
But the meeting, for once, was forgotten.
In the center of the room, amidst the scattered easels and the faint, earthy scent of linseed oil, sat Wu Suowei. He was oblivious, utterly absorbed. A loose, white art smock, splattered with a constellation of dried paint, hung open over his school uniform. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms that, even then, held a surprising strength. His head was tilted, a strand of dark hair falling across his brow as he leaned into his canvas.
The light seemed to cling to him. It caught the fine dust motes dancing around his head, turning them into a halo. It illuminated the sharp, delicate line of his jaw and the curve of his neck. His concentration was absolute, a palpable aura of peace that Chi Cheng felt like an almost physical force. He watched Wu Suowei’s hand move with a delicate precision, the brush an extension of his will, blending colors on a palette.
There was a quiet intensity in Wu Suowei's expression that Chi Cheng had never seen on anyone else. No pretense, no performance, just raw, unguarded passion. His brow was furrowed slightly, a small frown of deep thought, but his eyes, whenever they flickered from the canvas to the reference image beside it, held a burning, almost spiritual light.
Chi Cheng felt something unfamiliar stir within him, a sense of profound fascination, yes, but also a strange, aching vulnerability. He vaguely registered a faint, pleasant warmth spreading across the skin of his chest, where his own soulmark lay hidden beneath his shirt. For a fleeting moment, the sensation was a gentle thrum against his ribs, but he didn't pay attention to it, dismissing it as a flush of adrenaline or the humid heat of the campus grounds. His entire being was consumed by the sight before him, there was no room for anything else.
He, Chi Cheng, the untouchable scion, the "prince" of the school, felt utterly exposed by the sheer, unadulterated purity of the scene before him. Wu Suowei, at that moment, seemed to exist in a dimension entirely his own, untouched by the pressures and expectations that suffocated Chi Cheng.
He was like an ancient carving brought to life, imbued with a grace that was almost painful to witness. The focused intensity in his eyes was staggering, yet they were large and dark, soft-edged like a doe's, making his concentration seem both fierce and profoundly innocent at the same time. The way the light kissed the bridge of Wu Suowei's nose, the subtle twitch of his lips as he concentrated... occasionally, his lips would part in a silent exhale, revealing the edge of his front teeth in a way that was boyish and utterly endearing. It was a small, charming imperfection that Chi Cheng's mind immediately cataloged and stored away, a private treasure. The combination of his doe eyes and what Chi Cheng instantly dubbed his ‘bunny teeth’ was a paradox of soft vulnerability and sharp, artistic focus. It was all so unstudied, so real.
A deep, quiet connection sparked in Chi Cheng’s chest. He felt like he was seeing not just a person, but an entire universe, contained in that single, sun-drenched moment. He had never seen anyone hold themselves with such natural, unassuming power. He watched, transfixed, until the distant clang of a bell finally broke the spell, pulling him back to the harsh reality of his own demanding schedule.
As he silently turned and walked away, the image of Wu Suowei, bathed in golden light, was already indelibly etched into his memory, a silent oath forming in his young, determined heart, I need to know you. I need to understand what makes you shine like that. He didn't know then that this scene would become the genesis of a lifelong, silent obsession.