Saturday, 3:02 AM
Lin Xiu lay sprawled across her bed, her comforter half-kicked to the floor. The glow from her phone screen cast a soft blue hue across her face as she absentmindedly scrolled through a dating app, one she had sworn never to take seriously.
It had started as a joke—one of those "what's the worst that could happen?" moments fueled by Mei Jia's relentless teasing. "Come on, Xiu, you need to stop romanticizing bookstore meet-cutes and accept that the algorithm is your best chance at love," Mei Jia had said, shoving the phone into her hand.
Now, here she was, swiping through profiles like a detective searching for clues in a crime scene.
Left. Left. Left.
A guy posing with a sports car—definitely not his. Left.
A selfie with a flexed bicep in the mirror. Left.
A group photo where she couldn't even tell which one he was. Left.
Her thumb hovered over the next profile.
Ren Sihong, 27
"Just here for late-night existential crises and good conversation. Bonus points if you like rainy days and books you never finish."
Lin Xiu stared at his picture. He wasn't the type to post gym selfies or awkwardly forced smiles. His profile had only two pictures—one of him sitting in a café, a book in his hand, and another of him on a bridge at night, looking out at the city lights.
The bio intrigued her. There was something about it that didn't feel like he was trying to sell himself as the perfect guy. It felt... effortless.
She bit her lip. Screw it.
She swiped right.
A second later, the screen lit up. It's a match!
Her heart did an involuntary skip, though she quickly scolded herself. It's just a match. Don't be dramatic.
But before she could put her phone away, a message popped up.
Ren Sihong: So, what's keeping you up at 3AM? Existential dread or bad decisions?
A chuckle slipped from her lips. Not bad.
Lin Xiu: Can it be both?
Ren Sihong: Always. So, tell me—what's the last random thought that kept you awake?
Lin Xiu hesitated. This was normally where conversations died. Guys usually sent "wyd?" or "you're cute", and she'd lose interest before the chat even began.
But this? This was interesting.
She tapped her fingers against the screen, thinking.
Lin Xiu: Do you think we ever meet people at the exact moment we're supposed to? Or is timing just an excuse for when things don't work out?
She hit send before she could second-guess herself.
A few seconds passed. Then a minute. She wondered if she had scared him off.
Then—
Ren Sihong: Damn. We're really starting deep, huh?
Lin Xiu: What can I say? It's 3AM.
Ren Sihong: In that case, let's make this interesting. One question each. No small talk. Deal?
A slow smile spread across her lips.
Lin Xiu: Deal.
________________________________________
Saturday, 3:40 AM
They had been messaging non-stop for almost forty minutes now.
Their conversation had jumped from the absurd ("Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?") to the philosophical ("Do you think love is a choice or just chemistry?").
Lin Xiu had to admit—she hadn't had a conversation this effortless in a long time.
Ren Sihong: Okay, my turn. What's one thing you wish you could tell your younger self?
Lin Xiu stared at the message longer than she expected to.
Her younger self? The one who thought she'd have life figured out by 24? The one who believed working hard meant success was guaranteed?
She thought about all the mistakes, the disappointments, the moments where she felt lost.
Lin Xiu: That it's okay not to have everything figured out. That failing doesn't mean you're broken.
She hit send before she could regret being too honest.
Three dots appeared, disappearing, then appearing again.
Ren Sihong: That's a good one.
A pause.
Ren Sihong: I think I'd tell my younger self that people leave, and sometimes, it has nothing to do with you.
Lin Xiu blinked. That was… personal.
She hesitated before typing.
Lin Xiu: You sound like you learned that the hard way.
Another pause.
Ren Sihong: Don't we all?
She didn't reply immediately. Something about the way he phrased it made her wonder what kind of heartbreak he had been through. But she didn't ask. Not yet.
Instead, she changed the subject.
Lin Xiu: Okay, my turn. What's your weirdest late-night thought?
Ren Sihong: That if I were a ghost, I'd spend my afterlife correcting people's grammar in anonymous text messages.
Lin Xiu burst out laughing, muffling her face in her pillow.
Lin Xiu: That is unreasonably specific.
Ren Sihong: We all have our priorities, Xiu.
She paused at the sight of her name. It was the first time he used it. She liked the way it looked in his text.
Shaking her head, she typed:
Lin Xiu: Alright, last question for the night. What's something you never tell people on a first conversation?
A beat of silence.
The dots appeared. Then stopped. Then appeared again.
Ren Sihong: That sometimes, I get scared of how quickly I can feel connected to someone I've never met.
Lin Xiu felt her breath hitch slightly.
She sat there, staring at the screen, unsure of how to respond. But then, before she could even type, another message popped up.
Ren Sihong: That was too honest, wasn't it?
She smiled.
Lin Xiu: Maybe. But I don't mind.
There was a pause before his next reply.
Ren Sihong: Good.
It was almost 4AM now. She knew she should sleep. But instead, she found herself staring at his messages, wondering how a 3AM right swipe had turned into something so unexpected.
Her phone vibrated one last time.
Ren Sihong: Same time tomorrow?
Lin Xiu hesitated, then typed back.
Lin Xiu: Only if you come up with better questions.
Ren Sihong: Challenge accepted.
And just like that, the night ended—but something told her this wasn't just another fleeting late-night conversation.
It was something else entirely.