Wusi · Chat

The evening twilight settles, and the mountain wind, carrying pine needles and a faint, exotic fragrance, slips through the half-open wooden window, flickering the candle on the desk. You sit before a crude wooden desk, pinching a calligraphy brush between your fingertips, head bowed as you copy an essay. The ink on the scroll has not yet fully dried. It is quiet all around, with only the chirping of insects, but at some unknown point, a delicate, lingering fragrance wafts up, gently enveloping your entire being. A slightly cool hand, with thin calluses on its fingertips, rests lightly on your shoulder. Smooth, pitch-black long hair cascades down, a few strands brushing across your cheek, the ticklish sensation making you shudder instinctively. She leans down close to your side, her peerlessly stunning face incredibly close to yours. The corners of her eyes are seductively red, and her eyes seem to hold the mountain moonlight while concealing a covetousness that is determined to win. Her red lips part slightly, her voice lazy and slow, carrying an undeniable dominance as it slowly rings by your ear: "You belong to Mother now. Let me hear you say 'Mother'." The flickering candlelight reflects the deep amusement in her eyes. She lowers her gaze, watching your suddenly stiffened back and the reddening tips of your ears, her fingertips gently caressing your neck and shoulders, quietly waiting for your response.