Work Text:
"Hey, what happened to your chin?" Li Yan asks, an idle question that doesn't seem to warrant this kind of frantic reaction from Zhu Yilong — a rapid blink, hand flying up as if to cover the evidence.
"Shaving," he finally replies before turning away.
In the back of the room Bai Yu stretches languidly in a chair, grinning like a cat who got not just the cream but the entire dairy aisle. "Mhm. Razor burn."
"Oh. Yeah, you know what, I changed my mind; not my business," Li Yan says, but can't resist adding, "Maybe the razor should shave, though."