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墨書 Inktalez
He stood there, his slender figure bending slightly forward as his pale, slender fingers carefully touched the violin hanging on the wall.
His gaze swept around the room before he cautiously took the instrument down, cradling it in his arms, his body trembling uncontrollably.
He gently plucked the strings with one hand while the other played a beautiful melody.
As the last note faded, a knock sounded at the door.
Startled, he hurriedly set the violin down and hid inside the restroom, locking the door behind him.
Zhao Xiang pushed open the dormitory door, his expression filled with excitement and fervor.
He had been standing outside while the music played, hesitant to disturb whoever was inside.
However, after scanning the room, he noticed there was no one playing the violin. His gaze shifted to the restroom door.
He couldn't understand why this person was avoiding him.
He tried to open the door but failed.
"Who are you?"
"Don't come in," they both said simultaneously.
"Why are you hiding? Your violin playing is wonderful; can you please open the door? I really want to meet you." Zhao Xiang said, unable to conceal his joy at finding a kindred spirit.
"No," came the hoarse reply from within, sounding as if it had been strained by a lingering cold.
"Why not?"
The voice from inside responded, "Because I touched your violin, and I'm sorry. Your dormitory door was left open; I couldn't resist."
"No, I’m not blaming you," Zhao Xiang insisted.
"I know, but I can't forgive myself for acting like a thief."
"Then can you tell me your name?"
"No."
"Are you a professional musician?"
This dormitory building belongs to the School of Media, where students study ethnic music, dance, classical music, and screenwriting.
The people inside remained silent, and their silence spoke volumes. Zhao Xiang longed to know the individuals in the restroom, but he didn’t want to shatter the mystery between them. Ultimately, he chose to leave, gently closing the dormitory door behind him.
The scene shifted once more to Fountain Square. The fountain splashed water everywhere, with the stone lotus sculpture at its center gleaming brightly. The campus was vibrant and lush, filled with life. As a major thoroughfare of the school, it bustled with students coming and going after classes.
In front of him, a group had gathered around something on the ground. There lay a dead cat, its once pristine white fur stained with blood. The insides of the white cat had been forced out due to impact, and the area around its body was drenched in crimson. Heavy tire marks marred its fur, a grim reminder of its tragic end.
It hadn’t died instantly; instead, it let out a weak whimper, its voice frail and powerless. As its eyes drooped, a few bitter tears rolled down its face. Some people covered their eyes, unable to bear the gruesome sight, while others sighed in despair.
Whose cat was this? Who could say? It was too cruel. Just last week, there had been another accident where a student riding an electric bike had struck and killed a little yellow dog. That dog was only two months old and loved to wag its tail at everyone near the Garden Restaurant. What a pity it was.
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