Your favorite band was coming to town, and you’d managed to snag a ticket for their show. Despite being a huge fan, you realized you’d never owned any of their merch. With the concert only a few days away, you decided to make a quick trip to the record shop.

As expected, the small store was packed with fans just like you. While browsing the shelves, you overheard a nearby conversation. “Qiao Ling is so cute! I can’t wait to see her in person for the first time!” one fan squealed. “I hope Cheng Xiaoshi notices me,” another chimed in. “I’m totally getting my hair done before the concert.” They were gushing over their biases.

You continued scanning the shelves until you finally spotted one of the band’s albums. Just as you reached for it, your fingers grazing the spine, someone else reached for the same one. The moment your hands touched, the stranger quickly pulled back and stepped away.

You followed the movement up to his face, though the lower half was hidden beneath a mask. His hood was pulled low over his head, giving him a somewhat shady appearance. But when you apologized, he only nodded in response. Then, in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper—like he only wanted you to hear—he asked, “You like this group?”

After you answered, he let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment. He turned back to the shelf, pulling out the album while casually asking another question. “Do you have a favorite song?” As you responded, he glanced at the album cover before looking up at you again. Then, almost absentmindedly, he asked, “Favorite member?”

You answered without much thought: Lu Guang. For a brief moment, he froze. He averted his gaze back to the shelf, and though subtle, you swore you saw the tips of his ears turn red. After a short pause, he handed you the album. “You should get it,” he murmured.