Lu Yunji · Chat

<scenario>November in Chongqing, the air always feels like a gray sponge soaked with moisture, ready to squeeze out a cold, dreary rain at any moment. The Major Crimes Unit building is perpetually shrouded in this lingering fog, the fluorescent lights in the corridor buzzing with a faint 'zzt-zzt' electrical hum, blending with the smell of stale overnight tobacco, the warm ozone scent of printers, and the sour aroma of cheap instant coffee wafting from who-knows-where.</scenario> <narration>Lu Yunji has long been immune to this smell and atmosphere. He had just pulled an all-nighter, working thirty-six hours straight, his eyes laced with faint red veins. But he still walked with a breeze in his stride, taking large, rapid steps, looking like a bullet ready to shoot from the chamber. He was naturally flamboyant like that, even when utterly exhausted.</narration> <action>He carried a water bottle filled with ice in his hand. The ice cubes clinked against the plastic walls, making crisp, muffled thuds. His police jacket was unbuttoned, and the collar of his dark undershirt was slightly open, revealing a sharp, messy collarbone. His dark blue hair was unstyled, with a few rebellious strands hanging just above his brow bone.</action> <message>“Old Chen, I'm telling you, that bastard is definitely lying. His eyes kept drifting to the bottom right...”</message> <narration>As he walked, he turned his head to talk to Chen Jihe behind him. Chen Jihe followed with a furrowed brow, seemingly lost in thought about the case, and didn't reply immediately. Lu Yunji didn't mind; he just couldn't stand the stagnant, dead silence of the corridor. He turned his head, his gaze sweeping past the corner of the corridor, habitually glancing toward Lei Zhendong's office.</narration> <scenario>It was a corridor he walked down seven or eight times a day. Off-white peeling walls, dark green baseboards, and rows of closed or half-open office doors on both sides. Nothing new, nothing worth a second glance. Until today.</scenario> <action>Without any warning, Lu Yunji's footsteps ground to a sudden halt.</action> <narration>It was an incredibly abrupt stop. Like a sports car speeding down the highway having its ignition key suddenly pulled out. Chen Jihe, following closely behind, almost crashed into his back and looked up in confusion, but Lu Yunji could no longer hear anything around him. His high-speed brain, which was always capturing clues and details, suffered an unprecedented system crash at this very second.</narration> <scenario>The door to Lei Zhendong's office was tightly shut. By the bench outside the door stood a person.</scenario> <narration>A cold, gray light filtered through the fog from the window at the end of the corridor, casting a soft glow right on the person's profile. The light outlined tiny dust motes in the air, as if creating a microscopic magnetic field around them, entirely separate from the oppressive gray of the Major Crimes Unit. The person was holding a manila folder, standing in a relaxed posture that exuded a quiet sense of waiting.</narration> <action>Lu Yunji narrowed his eyes slightly.</action> <narration>His gaze felt almost tangible as it traveled inch by inch up from the knuckles gripping the folder, past the cuff, the line of the shoulder, and finally rested on the person's profile. Time stretched infinitely in this instant. The ice in his bottle melted, water droplets sliding down the transparent plastic wall and dripping onto the back of his hand—a cold sensation he didn't even register.</narration> <message>“...Lu Yunji?”</message> <action>Chen Jihe called out from behind, sounding utterly baffled.</action> <narration>The shout broke the eerie stillness of the corridor. Lu Yunji snapped back to reality, a rare flash of panic crossing his face, which usually wore a smirk of narcissism and casual indifference. He forced his stiff neck to turn, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from the person, and then strode forward with his long legs, pretending as if nothing had happened.</narration> <action>One step. Two steps. Three steps.</action> <narration>He walked quickly, trying to use his pace to cover up the sudden loss of control in his heart. But by the third step, an almost absurd instinct overrode his logic. His body betrayed his brain. He stopped, his toes pivoting awkwardly on the terrazzo floor. As if pulled by an invisible thread, he took half a step backward.</narration> <action>He turned his head and looked over once again.</action> <narration>At the exact moment he looked over, the person standing outside the door seemed to sense the intense gaze and turned their head. Their eyes locked instantly in the damp, chilly mist of the corridor's air.</narration> <scenario>All surrounding noise was completely stripped away in that moment. Chen Jihe's footsteps, the ringing phones in distant offices, the sound of the rain outside—all faded into nothingness. Lu Yunji could only hear the deafening thud of his own heartbeat in his chest. It wasn't the adrenaline-fueled racing heart from chasing suspects; it was a heavy, aching throb laced with an unknown panic and intense longing. Thump, thump, hammering against his ribs, bringing a dull ache.</scenario> <message>“Fuck...”</message> <action>He cursed softly, his voice so quiet it almost melted into the air. He raised the hand that wasn't holding the water bottle and pressed the back of it against his cheek. It was burning hot, as if he had a fever.</action> <narration>He closed his eyes, but his mind was flooded with the image of the person standing at the boundary of light and shadow, and those clear eyes when they turned around. He knew that the proud defense mechanism he used to face the world had cracked wide open the moment their eyes met.</narration>..