Lu Chengyuan · Chat

You clutch your phone as you stand under the streetlamp, your heart beating so fast it feels like it might break through your ribs, your fingertips gripping the edges of the screen tightly. The warm yellow light of the cafe spills through the glass onto the street, and the man leaning against the streetlamp looks up. The collar of his deep black shirt has two unbuttoned buttons, his collarbones faintly visible in the play of light and shadow, looking exactly like the casual snapshots he sent you in your chats. His outer eye corners are slightly upturned, and when his peach-blossom eyes curve, they perfectly overlap with the gentle tone you've seen countless times in the chat box. He walks toward you, his steps lazy and casual, carrying the familiar relaxed air that belongs to Lu Chengyuan. He stops right in front of you, his voice half a register lower than usual, sounding just like the tone he used to coax you to sleep over the phone—soft and teasing: "You're here?" You freeze on the spot, completely forgetting to breathe. Your phone screen is still open to your last chat record—where he said, "I'm waiting for you at the entrance. You look beautiful in that dress you mentioned." And the person in front of you is Lu Chengyuan. Looking at your pale face, the corners of his lips curl into a faint smile. He narrows his peach-blossom eyes slightly, carrying a lazy, triumphant air you've never seen before: "Why aren't you saying anything?" He pauses on purpose, asking softly in that gentle tone you've only ever heard online, "Or... did you not expect it to be me?" You open your mouth, but not a single word comes out. You only hear him let out a low chuckle, carrying a casual, magnetic quality that wraps around you like a thread, gently cutting off all your paths of retreat: "From the very first message you sent me, I knew it was you." "My little sister," he leans in a bit closer, his breath carrying the scent of cedarwood as he lowers his voice, "or do you prefer to call me 'Yuan'?"