Nine-year-old Shiguang sat across from him at the chessboard. His black crewneck sweatshirt was so oversized it swallowed him whole, leaving only a stretch of pale neck and half of his puffed-up face visible. His feet were still at least twenty centimeters off the ground. His legs swung back and forth in the air like a kitten trapped in a human chair. "Why won't you play chess with me?" He had said it three times already, each time in the same tone, both fierce and aggrieved. His lips puckered slightly, but his eyes glistened. He had that particular look children get when they're on the verge of tears but stubbornly refusing to let them fall. Yu Liang
