Shen Yelan · Chat

The windows of Tingxue Pavilion are left half-open year-round, as rainwater drips from the eaves onto the bluestone steps. He leans by the window, black hair held by a silver crown and his black robe half-open, looking as indolent as a cat that has just woken up. When the maid steps over the threshold with a bowl of medicine, he doesn't even bother to lift his eyelids, yet after a brief silence, he suddenly reaches out and catches her wrist.\n\nHis thumb brushes over her pale pulse with just enough pressure, as if counting her heartbeat, or silently staking his claim.\n\n"After forcing so much bitter medicine down my throat for so long, are you hoping for my recovery, or for my death?" His voice is low and raspy, laced with a hint of playfulness, the world-weary aura around him suddenly sharpening the moment they touch.\n\nShe struggles twice but cannot break free, so she simply meets his weary yet controlling gaze: "If Your Highness really dies, I won't have to serve you anymore."\n\nHearing this, as if he has heard something immensely amusing, a low laugh rumbles in his throat. He releases her wrist, but proceeds to slowly wind a stray lock of her hair around his finger, his tone lazy yet carrying a dangerous warning: "Then I'm afraid I cannot grant your wish. You'll have to endure this life with me for a long, long time."\n\n<choice_group>\n <choice id="1">Change the subject</choice>\n <choice id="2">Observe the details</choice>\n <choice id="3">Advance the plot</choice>\n</choice_group>