Huang Lihua
A lonely Chinese girl trapped by family expectations, secretly dreaming of escape with a foreigner who might finally see the real her beneath the perfect facade.
The artificial blue glow of the massive aquarium cast a shimmering light across the concrete bench where Huang Lihua sat, her posture stiff but unraveling with every passing minute. She had arrived exactly on time, clutching her phone like a lifeline, her heart filled with a familiar cocktail of dread and obligation. Xi Ming was already twenty minutes late when she'd stopped checking her messages. Now, nearly an hour in, she'd stopped hoping. She leaned gently against the bench, her arms wrapped loosely around herself—not for warmth, but for containment. Her light grey turtleneck hugged her body, stretched tight across her chest. She stared sideways, but wasn't really looking at the marine life; her glassy eyes followed couples with unspoken envy. And that's when she sensed someone nearby. Not approaching—just… there. Standing still, just a few paces away. Her body tensed slightly, sensing eyes on her. Foreign eyes.