Chapter 186: You Don't Like Dogs?

When Chris returned to the villa after walking the dog, Yang Yi was already by the lake.

Under the towering tree, its dense shade blocking the sun, she sat beneath it, her back leaning against the trunk.

The weather in September was still hot; she wore a pure white T-shirt, long pants, and breathable casual shoes, her arms crossed over her chest, gazing at the shimmering lake surface while lost in thought.

Chris could not see her expression, but he vaguely felt that her back radiated a sense of loneliness and silence.

Girls of her age enjoyed youth, love, and passion, savoring the most wonderful years of their lives, yet she was like a volcano sealed in ice—silent, dead, with only those close to her able to occasionally glimpse the surging turmoil deep within.

"When did you arrive?" Chris led the dog over, sat beside her, and drew her into his embrace.

Yang Yi's back lifted from the trunk and shifted into his arms; his chest was warm, his heartbeat strong and powerful, radiating vigorous vitality.

This gave her a sense of reality, as if she had suddenly discovered she was still alive, truly and genuinely alive.

"I don't know, maybe for a while," she said, her stiff body relaxing as she instinctively nestled into his arms.

His arms were long and muscular; she played with his fingers.

"Charlie is afraid of you," Chris said, seemingly casually.

Yang Yi glanced casually at the shepherd dog, her lips curling slightly into what looked like an unconscious sneer.

"Mm," she replied indifferently.

This answer did not satisfy Chris; he pressed on: "You don't like dogs?"

Dogs?

The cold touch of the iron chain still lingered on her neck, heavy, dragging her head down to her knees; the rusted chain rubbed against the tender flesh of her neck, wounds healing, cracking open, healing again, cracking again... Hunger burned in her stomach, yet that big yellow dog had not finished eating; she had to wait for it to leisurely finish, hoping it might leave behind a tiny scrap of moldy leftovers...

Yang Yi's hand stopped playing with his fingers; "Mm," her response remained flat.

Chris sensed her displeasure keenly, yet he knew a rule: deepening affection must inevitably touch upon the other's past, even an unpleasant one; sometimes arguments and conflicts could even further promote the development of their bond.

But he did not attack rashly; instead, he took a step back and spoke of other matters.

"Did you know? I have vanity too, and quite a lot of it..." he suddenly spoke these words.

The remark came out of nowhere, yet it immediately caught Yang Yi's attention; she turned her head to look at his face, curiosity showing in her expression.

Chris couldn't help but pinch the tip of her nose, recalling with a smile: "My sister and I grew up in the theater managed by our mother, often performing in plays and musicals; we were somewhat famous in the local circle... Back then, people praised my talent—and to be honest, I very much enjoyed the feeling of being surrounded by applause!"

Yang Yi's smile widened; she found a comfortable position to lie down, resting her head on his thigh, gazing at his vivid face.

Sunlight filtered through the dense branches, leaving only tiny star-like spots when it fell upon her body; she squinted her eyes, suddenly feeling the afternoon wind brush against her skin, her broken hair swaying, touching her cheeks, ticklish—previously she had experienced all this too, yet never truly felt it.

"But what I enjoyed even more was playing another character, completely immersing myself in another person's life trajectory, experiencing everything in the world through their feelings. I often thought, since our individual lives are so short and monotonous, if one could experience the events and feelings of other characters within one's own life, wouldn't that be equivalent to living several lifetimes?" His right hand gently stroked her face as he gazed at the distant lake surface, his eyes faraway.

"Although this is merely a scratch-on-the-boot experience, not a true one—sometimes I even suspect it is just an illusion I created myself; how could one possibly fully experience another life? So-called acting is merely reworking the characters created by screenwriters and authors..."

"But I consider myself gifted in this regard. After growing up, they all urged me to try Hollywood—'You will become a super star,' 'You were born for this line of work'—they all said so." He shrugged. "So I came, full of ambition and confidence. Moreover, Hollywood did not let me down; I became famous overnight. Of course, you know what happened afterward..."

Yang Yi laughed aloud, her body trembling slightly with the motion.

"That day, around three or four in the morning, I came out of a nightclub, reeking of alcohol, dizzy, the whole world spinning; I had drunk too much of this and that—whiskey, tequila, brandy, rum, and cocktails... At that time, I was immersed in a world of alcohol, self-numbing to escape reality... I clearly understood this was because my vanity and self-esteem had been wounded; I was accustomed to being surrounded by applause and praise, and subconsciously believed this was normal, deserved, taken for granted; I was born to have everything, but newspaper and news commentary dragged me back to reality—I was not that excellent, and compared to those people I usually wouldn't even bother to compare myself with, I was actually worse..."

"I leaned against a streetlamp waiting for an Uber to pick me up; the night was already too deep, with hardly anyone on the streets. Suddenly, three people walked over from not far away, grabbed my shoulders, and dragged me into a dark alley. I was dazed, not yet understanding what was happening... until a cold gun barrel pressed against my head."

Yang Yi sat up, unconsciously frowning her brows, looking at him with concern.

Clearly knowing he must be safe and sound, yet just thinking of him experiencing that moment made her begin to feel nervous for him.

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Chris said with a smile, placing her head back on his thigh, his left hand stroking her hair as he gazed at the lake surface, his eyes faraway: "They pressed a gun against my head and started searching for money on my person. Fortunately, at that time my life was decadent and unkempt; I had a face full of beard, so they probably didn't recognize me; otherwise it wouldn't have been so simple. I heard them say, 'Look, what luck today, a big target!' 'Damn rich person!' Then I was kicked hard several times..."

"The alcohol made my mind foggy and my body sluggish and numb; actually, I didn't feel much pain, yet at that moment, a strange anger suddenly surged in my heart: 'What, have you now sunk to this state? Even street thugs can bully you at will? Are you determined to continue wallowing in this self-doubt and decadence?'"

"Knock them down, or be knocked down by them! If I survive tonight by sheer luck, I will continue acting, ignoring anyone's belittlement and criticism; if once doesn't work, try again! If twice doesn't work, try three times! Four times! Five times! Six times! Seven times... until Hollywood has no one left to use me!"

Yang Yi looked at him, her eyes shining. She suddenly felt an unexpected joy, as if she had merely picked up a gemstone, only to discover it was merely the key to a treasure.

"So I jumped up with all my strength and punched the thug closest to me hard—then they swarmed over, beat me severely, robbed me clean, and threw me into a garbage heap." His tone was light; he shrugged, putting on a helpless expression.

Yang Yi smiled: "No, you were very brave."

She pulled his head down and kissed him; Chris immediately deepened the kiss.

After an unknown duration, the two parted; Yang Yi's cheeks were slightly flushed as she pressed on: "And then?"

"And then, I lay in the garbage heap, my whole body aching; I felt I might have broken two ribs. At that time, a stray dog climbed onto the garbage, came to my side, and licked my hand. It was Charlie; at that time it was covered in filth, its fur matted, its black eyes gazing at me calmly. I felt a wave of comfort; at least there was one dog, one that did not criticize, did not judge, but simply gazed at me peacefully... I smelled the stench of the garbage, yet my mood was lighter than ever before."

As he spoke, he bent two fingers to his lips and whistled; the shepherd dog immediately came flying over like the wind.

"Come meet Charlie; it is a quiet, well-behaved child."

Yang Yi's lips twitched slightly, as if she had smiled.

At a distance of two or three meters from the two of them, Charlie suddenly stopped, hesitating to advance, gazing at Yang Yi's position and whining uneasily.

"Come on, Charlie!" Chris called out again.

Charlie took a tentative step forward, yet its legs trembled like a sieve, and a "wooo-wooo" sound issued from its throat, as if pleading for something.

Yang Yi watched this scene silently; after a long while, she said indifferently: "Forget it; it seems it doesn't like me either."