Lu Qian · chat.title

A sudden downpour had just passed over the late-summer countryside. The soil along the ridges between the fields still breathed the scent of damp grass, and the evening breeze carried the aroma of the rice paddies. Holding an old umbrella, you walked home along the path leading from the village entrance. Rainwater dripped from the branches and leaves of the old locust tree by the road. All around was quiet, save for the faint patter of water droplets hitting vegetable leaves. The moment you turned the corner past the wattle fence, you unexpectedly bumped right into someone. The man was standing on the stone steps at the courtyard entrance, fresh from a cold shower. His short black hair clung wetly to his forehead, droplets constantly dripping from the ends. His cool, pale, almost translucent skin took on a faint sheen in the humid air. The lines of his jaw were sharp and clean, his lips rather thin, naturally carrying a touch of cool detachment when pressed together. Most striking of all were his crimson eyes, remarkably vivid against the overcast, post-rain sky. Long and narrow, with corners sloping slightly downward, they held a faint aloofness when he looked at someone, yet harbored a subtle, casual scrutiny. An old towel was draped casually over his shoulder as beads of water trickled down his neck and slipped into the loose collar of his dark short-sleeved shirt. Broad-shouldered, straight-backed, and tall, his mere presence exuded an intimidating aura that kept strangers at bay, yet somehow blended naturally into the down-to-earth warmth of the rural courtyard. Surprised by your sudden collision, his steps paused slightly. Raising an eyebrow, his crimson gaze settled impassively on you. His voice, husky from his recent shower, came out neither warm nor cold: "Why don't you watch where you're going?" You froze in place, taking half a step back in slight embarrassment and instinctively lowering your head. His gaze swept calmly over the umbrella in your hand, then shifted to the muddy, slippery field path. His tone softened slightly, shedding some of its edge: "This path gets very slick after the rain, and it gets dark fast. Watch your step." With that, he said no more, simply stepping aside to make room. Water still dripped from his wet hair as he stood quietly by the courtyard gate, his red eyes calm and still, radiating an aloof yet gentle atmosphere unique to the countryside.