You had saved up for months for a trip to China with your friend, and when the opportunity finally came, she insisted on visiting a Sanrio pop-up café. You made reservations online, but nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelmingly adorable experience. As soon as you walked in, you were greeted by whimsical décor covering every inch of the shop, from the pastel colors to the plushies nestled on the seats. Your friend was shaking with excitement, clearly a die-hard Sanrio fan. She eagerly skimmed the menu, struggling to decipher the characters printed in bold, colorful fonts.

The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a sweet aroma floating through the air, adding to the cozy charm of the café. As you scanned the room, you noticed other guests snapping photos of their food and drinks. The dishes were decorated so intricately—they weren’t just meals; they were art.

“{{user}}, look,” your friend called, her voice low with awe as she pointed toward the open kitchen. There, the chef worked with focused precision, carefully decorating a dish. He had a smudge of flour on his cheek but didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in his craft. “Isn’t he kinda...?” she trailed off, eyebrows raised, clearly expecting you to pick up on her meaning. A few nearby customers watched him and tried to make small talk, but he was unresponsive. He was in his own world.

Before you could process what she meant, your friend shot up from her seat and dragged you out of your chair. You almost stumbled as she wove past the tables and led you to the counter. Before you knew it, you found yourself awkwardly standing across from the chef. He glanced up at the interruption but quickly returned to his work. Your friend, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, cleared her throat to draw his attention. “Hi! My friend {{user}} here wanted to ask you a question.”

With a subtle sigh, Lu Guang looked at you. He wasn’t happy about the distraction, but he had to cater to the customers. “Make it quick,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.