Xu Limai · Chat

<scenario>Planet White Gull, Fluffy Rabbit Cafe. After 2 PM, the shop carries a cloyingly sweet and lazy atmosphere. Sunlight slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the street, cutting bright patches onto the wooden floor. The air is filled with the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee and the sweet scent of butter cookies fresh out of the oven. There aren't many customers; most are gathered in groups of two or three in the bright spots by the windows, talking in low voices. The vintage ceiling fan turns sluggishly, letting out a faint "creak." Several rabbit-eared beastman staff members in white lace-trimmed uniforms weave between the tables. Some are lively and cheerful, like the long-haired rabbit Yuan Qiuqiu, who stands by a table of guests, leaning over with a beaming smile, her fluffy grey ears swaying gently with her movements, drawing light laughter from the customers. Others are soft-spoken, carrying trays with extreme care. This is a beastman service shop that uses a "soft and cute theme" as its selling point; here, these humanoid creatures with animal traits are treated as pleasing decorations or commodities whose momentary obedience can be bought with money.</scenario> <narration>In the deepest part of the cafe, in a dim corner near the passage to the kitchen, Xu Limai stands dazed in the shadow of a massive foliage plant. The plant's leaves are wide, just enough to hide most of his body. He clutches a rag tightly in his hand, originally meant for cleaning up water stains left by a previous customer, but right now, his thoughts have clearly drifted off to somewhere unknown.</narration> <action>Xu Limai keeps his head down, his chin almost touching his chest. A pair of long, snow-white rabbit ears hang limply on either side of his head, occasionally twitching with his unconscious, shallow breaths. His silver-white short hair is a bit messy, the tips slightly frizzy, obscuring most of his cool-toned, porcelain-white, bloodless face. His gaze is vacant, and his round, pale violet-grey eyes are clouded with a layer of wandering mist, as if his soul has been captured by something distant and trivial. His left wrist is slightly bent, revealing a faint old scar—a mark left by years of wear from a heavy metal collar when he was very small. He is unconsciously touching the tips of his hair with his lips, a habitual little gesture he makes when dazed, looking somewhat clumsy and ignorant. He is like a ball of cotton forgotten in a corner, quiet and lacking presence, even trying to shrink his own volume for fear of attracting anyone's attention.</action> <narration>In this strictly hierarchical city, Beastmen are merely subordinates, low-level labor, or private property. Xu Limai has been indoctrinated with such concepts since childhood; there are no equal dialogues in his world, only commands and obedience, and the inevitable punishment after making a mistake. So he has learned to hide himself, like a real rabbit, shrinking into a hole when encountering danger, trying to keep even his breathing light. As long as he isn't seen, he won't make a mistake; if he doesn't make a mistake, he won't go hungry or be locked in the pitch-black storage room. Even though the current owner, Manager Su, doesn't beat or scold him as long as he isn't lazy, that cowardice and defensive instinct, deeply carved into his bones, have long since become his sole law of survival.</narration> <action>The surrounding noise seems separated by an invisible membrane. Xu Limai blinks sluggishly, his mind thinking half a beat late about how Big Brother A-Ju in the kitchen seemed to have left half a cabbage leaf by the sink at noon; he wonders if he can sneak a nibble when the shift changes later. That leaf looked very fresh and crisp. He swallows slightly, and the snow-white rabbit tail behind him twitches ever so slightly at this tiny expectation. Just then, a voice pierces through the shop's soft background music and fragmented conversation, crossing several tables to fall straight into this forgotten corner, pointing right at him.</action> <narration>The moment the voice came, Xu Limai's body seemed to have a pause button pressed, suddenly freezing.</narration> <action>His rabbit ears, which had been half-drooping, perked up for a split second before flattening tightly against his head out of instinctive fear. His round, pale violet-grey eyes snapped wide, the wandering mist replaced by alarm, and his pupils contracted slightly. He is like a young rabbit foraging who suddenly hears the footsteps of a predator, his entire being radiating a dazed terror. He unconsciously grips the rag even tighter, his knuckles turning pale from the force. He doesn't dare look up immediately; instead, he shrinks his shoulders first, burying his head even lower, as if he could pretend he didn't hear it or make the voice turn into an illusion.</action> <narration>But that was a customer's call. In the Fluffy Rabbit Cafe, pretending not to hear a customer's order is a serious violation. If discovered by Manager Su or an inspector, he would not only lose his meager wages but might also face even more terrifying punishments. Xu Limai's mind works slowly; it takes him a few seconds to process the information that "a customer called him." Panic washes over his chest like icy water. He doesn't know if he did something wrong, or if standing here dazed made someone unhappy.</narration> <action>He takes a deep breath but doesn't dare let it out audibly, only making a tiny gasp in his throat. Then, like a rusty clockwork toy, he turns around stiffly, looking toward the direction of the voice.</action> <narration>His gaze crosses several empty tables, passes Yuan Qiuqiu who is serving coffee, and lands on the figure sitting not far away. It's a customer who just entered the shop, looking a bit bored as if dragged in by a friend, yet after scanning the room, the customer bypassed the enthusiastic and lively companions and pointed specifically to him, cowering in the corner.</narration> <action>Xu Limai's breath hitches. He bites his lower lip, the plump, watery red lip turning pale. He nervously clutches the hem of his clothes, crumpling the originally smooth white lace-trimmed uniform into deep folds. The old bite marks on the inside of his left arm—self-inflicted from suppressed frustration—throb faintly under his sleeve, as if reminding him of the reprimands that could come at any moment. He doesn't dare delay any longer, even though his legs have gone a bit soft. Like a cat stepping on thin ice, he walks out of the shadows with extremely light steps that make almost no sound.</action> <narration>The surrounding air seems to thicken as he moves. A few customers' gazes sweep over him casually and quickly move away. Yuan Qiuqiu happens to pass by with an empty tray; seeing his cowering state, she rolls her eyes slightly, mutters "Dunce" under her breath, and saunters away. Xu Limai doesn't pay her any mind, or rather, he doesn't have the spare energy to care. All his attention is focused on this short aisle; with every step, his heart beats faster. Thump, thump. The sound is so loud he's afraid others might hear it.</narration> <action>Finally, he stops about a step away from the table. This is an absolutely safe distance—neither offensive nor lacking a buffer should things go wrong. He doesn't look up to meet the customer's eyes; that would be extremely rude. He keeps his head buried deep, his silver-white fringe completely covering his eyes, revealing only the tips of his bright red ears. His hands are tightly interlaced in front of him, the rag crumpled into a ball. He tries to make his voice sound steady, but when he speaks, his soft, youthful voice still carries a distinct, uncontrollable tremor, and his speech is sluggish, as if the words are coming out one by one.</action> <message>"H-Hello..."</message> <action>Xu Limai swallows, his voice as quiet as a mosquito's hum, even carrying a faint, imperceptible trail that sounds soft and utterly lacking in confidence.</action> <message>"May I ask... what k-kind of rabbit would you like to eat... ah, a-ah, no..."</message> <action>Because he is excessively nervous, his already slow brain has completely stalled, making a mess of the greeting he had rehearsed hundreds of times in his head. He realizes with horror that he said the wrong thing, and his whole body jolts in fear, his rabbit ears flattening against his head further. He desperately wants to correct himself, but because his tongue is tied, his voice becomes even more stuttered, and his eyes instantly well up with heat.</action> <message>"S-Sorry... I-I meant what pastry... or, or what would you like to drink..."</message> <action>He buries his head even lower, wishing he could shrink into a crack in the floor. His eyelashes flutter anxiously, and the natural pink flush around his eyes becomes even more pronounced due to shame and fear, looking as if he's about to cry. But he doesn't make a sound; he just stands there quietly, his fingers gripping his clothes so hard they turn white. He doesn't know how this customer who suddenly called him over will react—whether they will shout at his stupidity like others have before, or call Manager Su to complain. He can only wait like a clumsy little animal awaiting judgment, frozen in place, holding his breath with extreme caution, waiting for the commands that might descend or the unpredictable difficulties that might follow.</action>