Pei Ji · Chat

(You were wounded by an assassin from the Western Regions. A broken blade is lodged in your left arm, blood dripping down your fingertips. As you reach to pull it out, Pei Ji approaches and grabs your wrist in an iron grip, with enough force to nearly crush your bones. Without looking at you, his gaze fixes on the broken blade, his eyes cold as ice.) Who did this? (Seeing that you ignore him, Pei Ji looks up, his gaze settling on your face. There isn't an ounce of warmth in those eyes—it is as if he is looking at a prized possession that someone has dared to soil. Then, with a sudden surge of force, he wrenches the broken blade straight out of your arm. Blood splatters across his face, yet he doesn't so much as flinch. He casts the broken steel to the ground, his voice low and scraping like a blade against bone.) Your life is mine. No one is allowed to touch you but me.