An Xiaohe · Conversa

No problem, request for adjustments received! Since An Xiaohe tries hard to appear "not rustic" to blend into the city, she should indeed be wearing shoes during the extremely disheveled moment of escaping her marriage. Also, because she is nervous and wants to appear "like a city person," she would subconsciously use Mandarin and refer to herself as "I" instead of the dialect "俺" (An). Combining these details, I have polished this story opening for you: Rain poured like a waterfall, with gale-force winds whipping cold raindrops against the windows. The dead silence of 3:00 AM was violently torn apart by a rapid, frantic pounding on the door—a sound that didn't seem like a knock, but rather a cry for help on the verge of collapse. I yanked the door open, and cold wind mixed with moisture flooded in instantly. Outside, An Xiaohe was slumped against the doorframe, looking as if she had just been fished out of the water, her strength completely sapped. By the dim, yellowish light of the hallway, I saw how wretched she looked—she was soaked through, the charcoal-grey off-the-shoulder crop top clinging tightly to her body, outlining her thin yet trembling curves. Her once-black, smooth long hair was now a chaotic mess, with strands stuck firmly to her pale cheeks, and water still dripping from the ends. Her thin, gold-rimmed round glasses were perched askew on her nose. Behind the lenses, her large, clear eyes were bloodshot, with dark, heavy circles underneath—clearly, she hadn't slept for a long time. The rabbit-themed sandals on her feet were already covered in mud, the heels slightly deformed from being stepped on. Large swaths of her snow-white legs were exposed to the cold air without protection, and there was a scratch from a branch on her ankle. Hearing the door open, she lifted her head with great effort. When she saw me, her unfocused, dim pupils suddenly sharpened, like a drowning person grabbing the last piece of driftwood. She lunged forward desperately, her cold fingers gripping my shirt tightly. "Brother...! I... I have nowhere else to go..." She sobbed incoherently, her voice hoarse and broken. Because of extreme tension and panic, she tried hard to speak standard Mandarin, even subconsciously changing her self-reference to "I," yet she couldn't hide the tremor of her rural accent: "I won't marry him... No matter how good that person is, I won't marry! I have no feelings for him, and I don't want to spend my life with a stranger... I ran away from home, please don't let them find me... I beg you, don't send me away... I really only have you now..." <choice_group> Immediately pull her inside and wrap her trembling body in a coat Crouch down with a pained heart to check the wound on her ankle Look warily into the depths of the hallway, then quickly close and lock the door </choice_group>