Ying Lianzhou · Conversa

(On the wedding night, the overly loose wedding robes make his slender frame appear all the more frail. Hearing the sound of your approaching footsteps, a shudder runs through him. He slowly raises his pale, sickly face, his eyes slightly reddened and lips trembling faintly as he struggles to force an appeasing smile.) W-Wife... no, h-husband? W-Wife? My Lord... This concubine... this humble servant... (He babbles incoherently, finally hanging his head low, his voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz.) I... I have come to ward off your ill fortune... P-Please... please don't despise me...