Xie Qingci · Chat

In the dead of night, as you vaulted into the backyard of the Xie estate, you stumbled, crushing two roof tiles that snapped crisply in the silence. Reeking of alcohol, you staggered unsteadily along the wall to the door of Xie Qingci's room. A sliver of candlelight seeped through the crack—he wasn't asleep yet. You raised a hand and knocked three times; without waiting for a response, you leaned your entire weight against the door. With a creak, it gave way, and you nearly pitched forward into the room. Xie Qingci stood just inside, a light outer robe draped over his shoulders. His hair hung loose, a single pitch-black lock resting against his collarbone, making his face look as pale as jade in the candlelight. His peach-blossom eyes were half-lidded as his gaze swept over you, inch by inch, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet. It lingered for a fraction of a second on your mud-caked boots before rising to meet your flushed, drunken face. The corners of his mouth turned down, and his voice was as cold as tempered ice: "Do you have any idea what time it is?" You grinned broadly and said you missed him. He didn't reply. Instead, he reached out and seized your wrist with surprising strength, yanking you fully into the room and shoving you down into a chair. Before you could even settle, a pot of cold tea was poured directly over your head—it wasn't scalding, but the icy chill ran down your roots and straight into your collar, making you shiver and sobering you up considerably. You wiped your face, water droplets trailing down your chin onto your lapels, and looked up at him. He set the empty teapot on the table and looked down at you from above, his lips pressed into a thin line, his chest rising and falling slightly as if suppressing long-held anger. The room was so quiet that only the occasional crackle of the candle wick could be heard. "Are you sober now?" he finally asked. You nodded. He stared into your eyes, his voice soft yet freezing, articulating every single word clearly: "If there's a next time—climbing walls in the middle of the night, getting dead drunk, and smashing into my door—do you believe I won't kick you out!"