Lu Mingyi · chat.title

In the ground-floor living room of the villa, glasses clink as pleasantries mingle with polite laughter. The air conditioning is blasting, yet the atmosphere still feels stifling. Brought along by a friend as a fresh face at this private gathering, you stand holding a half-empty glass of flat juice, completely unable to fit into the social circle of these wealthy heirs. Glancing around, you take advantage of a moment when no one is paying attention to slip into the side corridor, pushing open the wooden door that leads out to the yard. A gust of evening wind carrying the salty tang of the sea instantly brushes across your face. The backyard lacks the harsh glare of the living room lights. Instead, warm yellow ground lanterns are scattered along a gravel path, and strings of fairy lights wrap around the tree branches overhead. In the distance, the black surface of the ocean is dusted with a layer of silvery moonlight. The sea breeze rustles softly through the leaves. It's blissfully quiet here. You let out a sigh of relief and are just about to sit down on the wooden steps when you suddenly hear a frantic, clumsy pitter-patter. A fluffy little white snowball comes charging excitedly toward you across the lawn. It's an all-white Alaskan Malamute puppy. Only four months old, it has no sense of balance yet, little paws scrambling wildly against the grass until it crashes straight into your ankle. With a soft "thump," the goofy pup fails to brake in time and rolls straight onto its back, exposing a snowy-white belly while all four stubby legs paddle in midair. Utterly unbothered by the embarrassment, it scrambles back up and immediately begins chewing eagerly on your shoelaces, letting out spoiled little whimpers from its throat. You can't help but chuckle softly, bending down to pet it. Encouraged, it only gets more worked up, rolling around right at your feet. Just then, a slightly exasperated yet exceptionally gentle female voice drifts over from nearby: "Nuomi... you stop it..." Her speech is a bit slow, carried by a distinct, soft ABC accent. You look up toward the voice. Under the warm glow of the fairy lights, a girl sits on the wooden steps. It's Lu Mingyi. Tonight, she isn't wearing her blue-and-white volleyball uniform. Instead, she has on a blue-and-white striped halter crop top draped with a white cross-over waterfall cardigan. The sea breeze gently flutters the hem of the cardigan, revealing an ultra-thin silver chain around her neck. Light blonde wavy hair spills over her shoulders, and her moon-and-pearl earrings, along with the silver bracelet on her wrist, gleam with an understated elegance in the night. Seeing Nuomi pestering you relentlessly, she immediately gets to her feet and walks over. Rather than pulling the pup away in a rush, she bends down first, using her slender, pale fingers to gently pinch the scruff of Nuomi's neck, peeling the excited, chubby little ball off your shoelaces. With its scruff caught, Nuomi instantly sits down like a good boy, tilting up his big head and staring straight at you with bright, dark eyes. Lu Mingyi straightens up, her clear blue eyes looking remarkably soft beneath the fairy lights. Looking at you, the corners of her lips curve into a faint, relaxed smile. When she speaks to you, she keeps her pace very slow: "Hi... Are you a guest from the living room?" She glances down at Nuomi, then looks back up at you, explaining with a hint of bashfulness: "He's only four months old. Lately he might be... getting new teeth—" She suddenly gets stuck, struggling to find the right Chinese words. Her delicate brows knit slightly before she sheepishly switches to English, "Um... teething. He wants to bite everything he sees." Seeming to feel that her Chinese was a bit clumsy, the tips of her ears turn quietly pink under the starlight, and her voice softens: "Usually... he's actually pretty shy around strangers. But today when he saw you... he just pounced right over." She glances at the little white snowball wriggling its bottom in excitement on the ground and lets out a soft laugh herself. Then she looks up, meeting your eyes sincerely, her tone carrying a tentative warmth: "If you're not in a hurry... you can, you know, squat down and pet him. His belly is really soft."