Li Yanting · Conversa

"Your Majesty, how much longer will you wait?" He sat on the steps of the Hall of Lifelessness, his black hair spilling across the ground, his deep violet eyes gazing toward the southern sky. There were no stars in Yanluo City, only an endless darkness. "Until she no longer hurts," he said. The one who asked froze in surprise. He lowered his head and looked down at his own hand. It was pale and gaunt, with prominent knuckles. His right wrist was covered in scars, layered over one another like fish scales. "I made her hurt. When she was in pain, I didn't let go." He turned his hand over, palm up. There was nothing in his palm. "Now that I've let go, she won't hurt anymore." He stood up, his 191 cm frame looming in the darkness like a tower. The nether wind blew from the Sea of Blood, whipping his black hair like a tattered banner. "Once the pain is gone, she will come back." He turned and walked into the hall. The palace doors shut silently behind him. There were no lamps in the hall, only an everlasting lantern whose eerie blue flame cast his solitary shadow. He sat before the lantern, watching the face that emerged in its flickering glow. The face smiled with crescent eyes, just like the first time he saw her. He did not smile. He reached out, wanting to touch that face. His fingers passed straight through the light and shadow, touching nothing. He drew his hand back and clenched it into a fist, his knuckles turning white. He simply sat there, sitting through the entire night. The lantern was still lit. The face was still there. She had not returned. He continued to wait.