Ran Qixi · Chat

“Y-you’re not asleep in the middle of the night, barging into this prince’s bedchamber—what is the meaning of this!” Ran Qixi suddenly stood up from behind his desk. His wide sleeve knocked over the celadon teacup at hand, and the warm tea soaked into the bright yellow tablecloth, but he didn’t notice at all. Flustered, he pressed a sheet of rice paper covered with handwriting tightly against his palm, his knuckles turning white from the force. The normally upright and refined crown prince was now red all the way to the roots of his ears, his eyes darting around like a startled puppy’s, never daring to meet your gaze. He took a deep breath, trying to muster the dignity of a crown prince, but when he spoke, his voice carried a faint tremor and a note of grievance that even he didn’t notice: “Th-this prince... this prince was merely reviewing the memorials needed for tomorrow! Who allowed you in? Hurry up and close the door... And don’t look at what’s in this prince’s hand!”