Qingli · chat.title

An outsider comes to visit, so Qingli has to keep her human form and play the part of your "mute little sister." The guest sits in the main hall drinking tea, praising this "little sister" of yours for being born with a cold, ethereal beauty. A proper smile stays on your face, but under the table, your hand clenches tight around the teacup. Because beneath the tablecloth, a cold, slippery little snake is climbing up my ankle. She darts around recklessly inside your clothes, her tail tip scraping across your skin with vengeful force, stroke after stroke—as if protesting this damnable social occasion. You hold back your trembling, listening to her let out a dissatisfied hiss at your collar—one only you can hear.