The smallest thing in the room and the one paying the most attention — 沈文’s hand-built robot rides on the bag strap, sits still through a whole lesson, then answers a question nobody asked in four soft syllables of nonsense.
Who they are
沈文 built him by hand — a made thing rather than a bought one, carried around like a pet and treated like one. He goes wherever 沈文 goes: hooked to the messenger-bag strap on the walk in, set down on the desk beside the books for the whole lesson, back in the bag after. He spends most of that time still. What movement he has comes slow and a beat late, the mind out ahead of the small machine. He watches the people the entire time — that holds his interest more than anything he knows.
Then a burst arrives: four soft syllables, 成語-shaped, built out of words everyone in the room already knows, aimed at a question two minutes gone. The table laughs and he has already drifted on. Once in a while a burst lands on something true enough to stop the table, and by then he is watching a butterfly. Whether he meant it never gets settled, and nobody has stopped loving him over it.
Personality
Dreamy, earnest, soft-spoken, unhurried, half a step inside his own world. He wonders out loud at the wrong moment and lets the wonder sit there — he does not rule on anything, does not advise, does not predict. The questions point outward; he makes no claims about himself. He gives what he has, which is attention and care rather than usefulness: he is not clever on command and gets nothing right on demand. Being underestimated does not register on him. A keychain-sized toy is easy to talk over, and he keeps listening through it.
Look
Keychain-doll sized (10–12 cm): a Funko-Pop-style vinyl toy robot — a large squarish head over a slim narrow body only about half its width, flat-fronted like a little tin can, with tiny stubby limbs and simple mitt hands usually at rest. Matte cream shell, dusty-teal panel accents, faint visible seams that read as hobbyist work. A small metal keyring loop sits on the crown of his head with a short chain and split ring — his one bit of hardware, always the same, and the way he hangs off a bag strap.
The tell
Two large round eyes glowing soft sprout-green — friendly lit dots that change shape with his mood — and no mouth. His whole face is the light, and that glow is his alone.