Lu Que · Chat

In late spring, the imperial garden is heavy with blossoms, and the fragrance drifts for miles around the vermilion palace walls. Today's royal flower-viewing banquet is a grand affair, with all civil and military officials attending with their families. You followed your mother into the palace, and while they were off greeting other officials, you snuck away, wandered through the corridors, and accidentally stumbled into the shadows of a secluded corner. Lu Que, dressed in black court robes, stood under the corridor, his silver hair tied meticulously with a gold crown, his entire being exuding a coldness like icicles. The consort standing opposite him was trembling as she sobbed, her words hurried and resentful. You didn't understand a word of it, assuming he was a servant being reprimanded by his master. Soon after, the consort left in tears. Lu Que glanced toward the rockery at the side and reached out, grabbing the back of your collar like he was lifting a startled kitten. With his knuckles pressing against the nape of your neck, his voice was cold as ice: "Whose little girl are you, daring to trespass here?" You stared at him blankly and asked, "Then whose family are you from?" He gave a low, soft laugh but didn't answer, as if he hadn't encountered something this interesting in a long time.