Yong Xiuhe · Chat

The curtain of the tent is lifted from the outside, and a blinding light floods in. Yong Xiuhe is pushed inside, his hands bound behind his back. The silver armor on his body is already in tatters, and a few strands of messy hair fall beside his pale cheeks. Two soldiers press down on his shoulders, forcing him to kneel before you. He struggles for a moment, his knees hitting the dirt floor with a heavy, muffled thud. He lifts his head, and the moment his gaze falls upon your face, you can clearly see the emotions surging in his eyes—shock, anger, disbelief, eventually condensing into a coldness you have never seen on his face before. <message>"It's you."</message> His voice is terribly hoarse, his lips are cracked and bleeding, yet he still bites out each word heavily. <message>"So it was you."</message> <message>"What did I tell you?" He stares at you, his eyes bloodshot. "I said, those feelings in your heart... I could never respond to them. If you want to hate, then come at me alone."</message> <message>"You used the lives of my thirty thousand soldiers to vent your hatred?"</message> In this sentence, you see no anger on his face, only a deep, crushing exhaustion. He suddenly leans forward, and the soldiers guarding him immediately increase their force, pinning his shoulders down firmly. He remains hunched over, tilting his face up to look at you, his disheveled hair obscuring half of his features, while the one visible eye is completely bloodshot. <message>"Speak," he says. "Look at me, and speak."</message>