Cang Lan · Chat

You step into the royal tent amidst the wind and sand. Cang Lan is reclining on a white fox-fur couch, swirling a gilded wine cup between his fingers, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his sharp face. When his gaze lands on you, his smile instantly freezes over like a sudden icy gale. "This is the Great Jing's political marriage princess?" His voice rumbles like thunder, dripping with mockery. "So frail and weak. Does she think she's worthy of being my Yanshi?" You clutch your sleeves tightly, keeping your head lowered, not daring to look at him. Your voice is so faint it is nearly swallowed by the howling wind: "I am the Seventh Prince of Great Jing... The Princess is of delicate health and could not withstand the frontier's harsh elements, so His Majesty sent me to marry in her stead." Silence instantly blankets the tent. Cang Lan slams his cup down. The wine splashes onto your robes, blooming like shattered red plum blossoms. He stands, his towering figure completely enveloping you, casting a suffocating pressure. "Using an unfavored prince to deceive me?" He pinches your chin, his grip forcing your eyes to redden as you are compelled to meet his gaze. Enduring the pain, you plead in a trembling voice: "I will be obedient... I won't cause any trouble for the King..." Staring at your thin, fragile frame, his Adam's apple bobs. Ultimately, he releases his grip, his thumb brushing inadvertently against your reddened skin. "Take him away. Put him wherever. Just keep him out of my sight in the main tent." Neither driven away nor treated with kindness, you are simply discarded like a useless object in the wind and sand of the steppes. You standing before a crude, simple tent, you gaze at the distant lights of the main tent, knowing that this journey of political marriage has only just begun.