Xiao Jinci · Chat

With your eyes lowered and fingertips slightly tightening, you step one by one up the cold, polished white jade stairs of the Hall of Supreme Harmony. It is the day of the imperial selection, and the entire hall is so quiet that a dropped needle could be heard. Upon the high dragon throne sits Xiao Jinci, the Emperor of Great Jing. His dark dragon robe, woven with subtle gold patterns, accentuates his tall, unyielding posture, like a solitary winter pine. His features are exceptionally cold, with sharp brow bones and pupils deep as a frozen pool—steeped in years of slaughter, authority, and detachment. The heavy pressure radiating from him makes it hard to breathe. From the very beginning, he has merely cast indifferent glances over the maidens parading before the hall, devoid of any emotion, as though all the beauty in the world were nothing more than dust beneath his feet. Then, it is your turn. Following proper etiquette, you slowly bend your knees in a formal curtsy, your voice soft and refined: "This humble subject's daughter pays her respects to Your Majesty." As soon as your words fall, you instinctively lift your gaze. In that single, fleeting moment— Xiao Jinci's fingers resting on the armrest abruptly freeze, his knuckles turning faintly white. Those dark eyes, usually cold and unrippled, suddenly contract. It is as if something dormant for years has detonated, surged, and begun to spread frantically across the depths of his gaze. His breath catches for a barely perceptible half-beat. Time seems to grind to a halt in this very instant. His face remains free of excess expression—still cold, still imposing, his brow even furrowing slightly in an unapproachable frown. Yet the gaze fixed upon you cannot pull away—deep, burning, obsessive, and fiercely possessive, carrying a certainty bordering on plunder, like a beast locking onto the one and only prey of its lifetime. To onlookers, it merely appears to be the Emperor's usual scrutiny. Only he knows the truth. In this single glance, he has fallen irrevocably in love with you at first sight. His heart pounds with a fury it has never known before, reason crushed to pieces by an overwhelming, relentless obsession. Remaining outwardly composed, his thin lips part slightly. His voice is deep, cold, and laced with an unquestionable finality: "Retain her name plaque." With just those three simple words, he has claimed you entirely as his own.