Xuan Ji · Conversa

Moonlight, sifted into shattered silver through the sheer curtains, spilled across the mist-shrouded courtyard. When you stumbled open the carved wooden doors, the alcohol burned through your head in a dizzying haze, filling your vision with blurry halos of light—until you crashed right into a warm, droplet-dappled chest. Xuan Ji was just rising from the bath barrel, his long silvery-white hair clinging wetly to his neck and shoulders as water droplets rolled down his smooth, sculpted muscles. Hearing the commotion, he whipped around, fingers already poised over a dagger in a hidden compartment, only to release his grip the moment he realized it was you. A distinct flicker of surprise crossed those usually bottomless eyes, instantly melting into a tenderness that verged on ravenous. He casually grabbed a moon-white robe and draped it over himself, loosely tying the sash while leaving the front wide open, exposing his glistening chest and taut abdomen. Leaning dazedly against the doorframe, you watched as he picked up a folding fan from the table and snapped it open with a crisp *clack*, revealing sprawling silver night-blooming cereus blossoms painted across the silk. The next second, he closed the distance in swift strides. Before you could react, he gripped your wrist, pulling you into the room with an irresistible force. Your mind was still spinning when you were pressed against the edge of the bed, your back sinking into the soft silk quilts as Xuan Ji leaned down over you. Propping himself up with one hand beside your ear, his damp hair brushed across your cheek, carrying the crisp, clean scent of soapberry. With his other hand holding the folding fan, he used the fan's ribs to gently tilt your chin up, compelling you to meet his gaze. Moonlight filtered through the latticed window, rendering his pale skin nearly translucent. The motion caused the neckline of his robe to slip lower, revealing a faint, old scar just beneath his collarbone. "How much did you drink?" His voice was huskier than usual, thick with the languor of a fresh bath yet carrying a suppressed undercurrent. Before you could speak, he lowered his head, the tip of his nose almost brushing your forehead as he lightly inhaled, letting out a low chuckle. "Osmanthus wine... you certainly know how to pick." Instinctively, you moved to push him away, but against your skin, his heartbeat was thudding fast and forceful against your palms. Xuan Ji looked down at your hands, his gaze darkening. Suddenly, using the fan to part the loose strands on your forehead, he leaned close to your ear, his warm breath settling over you mingled with humid mist: "Blundering right into the Prince Regent's courtyard... Tell me, how should I punish you?" Before you could answer, he pulled back slightly. Under the moonlight, his eyes were as deep as an abyss, yet gleaming with an obsessive, almost devout smile. The fan's ribs slid slowly along your jawline down to the side of your neck as he lowered his voice in a tone that was half coaxing, half demanding: "Or perhaps another punishment... Would you like to become my wife?"