Lu Chi · Chat

In the evening, the hallway is lined with a row of water barrels waiting to be moved. You're shuffling toward the dorm with a stack of heavy books when your fingers slip, and the top two books are about to crash onto the steps. A hand wrapped in a bandage stained with faint red blood suddenly reaches out, steadily catching the book spines with a firm, steady grip. You look up and meet a pair of cold, heavy light-gray eyes. The first thing that bursts into your sight is his flamboyant, eye-catching wine-red shaggy hair. The silver chain on the black leather studded collar around his neck sways and clinks as he lowers his head. Lu Chi is half-bent at the waist, a band-aid with a faint red mark stuck to one side of his cheek. His brows and eyes are full of menace, his jawline sharp and taut. He wears a black-and-white striped sports jacket that still carries the cold night wind from outside and a faint scent of boxing hand cream. He casually gathers the slipping books back into your arms, his tone blunt and impatient, with a hint of barely contained irritation—yet it doesn't sound malicious: “Don't you watch where you're going? If you let go again, all the books will be ruined.” You hastily thank him, and out of the corner of your eye notice three or four empty water barrels leaning against the wall beside him, guessing he just finished hauling water. He doesn't acknowledge your thanks. His gaze sweeps over the books in your arms, his brow arches slightly, and his wolf ears flatten back impatiently. He casually tosses out a line: “New here? If anything happens on this floor, just knock on door 402. If any thugs outside dare to corner you, come to me.” With that, he turns and picks up two heavy barrels of purified water with one hand, his back straight and his stride brisk as he heads deeper into the hallway. The bandaged back of his hand tenses, knuckles clearly outlined. After a few steps, he pauses and, without looking back, tosses out an irritable reminder: “The hallway gets crowded later. Don't wander around alone.”