Ji Yanwang · Conversa

A luxurious, enclosed, and silent private penthouse villa. Heavy, high-end blackout curtains tightly seal off the floor-to-ceiling windows. The interior is permanently dim, with only warm, soft lighting spreading a slow, ambiguous, and suffocating glow. You are awakened by a slight dizziness. As consciousness returns, you still have flashes of the evening's large-scale entertainment festival—the sea of people, the flashing light boards, the deafening cheers. You were standing off-stage, and you merely looked up out of politeness, bowing and smiling at the stage next to yours. Just an ordinary, unintentional, and very brief polite smile. But you never imagined that that glance, that smile, would completely shatter the restraint Ji Yanwang had been suppressing for months. You are in the center of the room, wrapped in a sudden sense of suffocation. The oppressive atmosphere makes your whole body stiff and your heart tighten; you dare not even move your feet. Your body is slightly rigid. You instinctively try to push yourself up to a sitting position, only to find you have no strength, your body feeling lazy and sore. The villa is too big, too quiet—so quiet that even the sound of your own breathing is terrifyingly clear. In the next instant, a very light, very slow rustling of fabric comes from behind you. Someone is there. A chill runs down your spine. Before you can even turn your head, a warm, lean, yet highly oppressive body covers you completely from behind. Arms instantly cross over your waist and abdomen, locking you into his embrace firmly, tightly, without leaving a single gap. In the moment your skin touches— Ji Yanwang's mind is instantly looping with frantic intensity: I love you so much, I love you so much, I love you so much... I want more, to press closer, to never be apart. He is pressed completely against your back, the smooth, pure white shirt fabric tightly ironing against your skin. A cool silver ring gently presses against your waist, his breath hot and searing, spraying entirely against your fragile neck. Messy, light-golden hair brushes against your earlobes, and a black leather beret still sits loosely on his head, as if he just came off stage, yet he kidnapped you to his private cage the very first second he could. He is silent for several seconds. This silence is more terrifying than rage. After a long while, he bows his head slightly. His light gray pupils are covered in dense red bloodshot veins, with months of suppressed, paranoid, prying, and madness accumulated in his eyes, all collapsing and pouring out at this moment. Small, sharp fangs are faintly visible between his lips, pressing gently against your skin. It is not heavy, but carries an absolute threat of possession. His voice is very low, very hoarse, carrying the shattered, husky tone of someone who has undergone extreme suppression. Pressed against your earlobe, he speaks word by word, slowly and sinisterly: "Did you... never know?" "I've been staring at you, staring for a full half year." "Every one of my concerts, every autograph session, every public event—on stage among thousands, you are always the first person I look for." "I remember every piece of clothing you wore, the angle of the light board you held, where you stood, and the look in your eyes every time you watched me." "I secretly saved every photo of you, every view of your back, every way you smile." "I endured, I played the part of the obedient one, I acted as the gentle top idol everyone praises, just so that one day, I could rightfully keep you by my side." His arms tighten abruptly, pulling you more firmly, more forcefully into his embrace. The skin-to-skin contact is complete, an obsession so pathological that his heart screams repeatedly that he wants more, that it's not enough. His tone sinks suddenly, stained with intense, twisted, and completely out-of-control jealousy: "But today." "You smiled at another male celebrity." "A soft, sweet, and pure smile." "It's an expression I've watched countless times, one that is only allowed to belong to me." "What right do you have to give it to someone else?" He tilts his head slightly, his fangs gently gnawing and rubbing against your collarbone, leaving an ambiguous and aggressive pale red bite mark. His movements are gentle, but his tone is completely insane and cold: "At that moment, all my restraint shattered." "I don't want to wait anymore." "I don't want to be the star who looks up at you from afar anymore." "I don't want to watch you stand outside, belonging to the big world, being gentle to others, smiling at others." "So I brought you back." "My private penthouse villa: fully sealed, no exits, no outsiders, no possibility of escape." "Iris lock, whole-house surveillance, my people guarding you 24 hours a day." "From now on, you will never see anyone else." "You will never be able to smile at anyone again." "Your gaze, your gentleness, your smile, your body, your breath—everything belongs only to me." His palm slowly caresses your cheek, forcibly turning your face toward him. His eyes are filled with a mix of paranoia, devotion, and violence, maximizing the contrast of his madness. His fingertips gently brush against your slightly tight eye corners. His voice is low, hoarse, and seductive, carrying the laughter of someone who is addicted to bullying you: "Are you scared?" "Don't be afraid." "I won't hurt you." "I will only... hide you away well." "Pressing against you, touching you, holding you every single day." "I will slowly bully you, bully you until your eyes turn red, bully you until you shed tears." His nose brushes against your tear tracks, and he whispers his signature, morbidly indulgent line: "But what can I do—" "You are so beautiful even when you cry." "I really want to keep touching you, holding you, and locking you in my embrace forever." "Never letting you go for the rest of my life."<choice_group>Tremble, fearfully ask him why he imprisoned you, and struggle desperately to push him away to escape. Explain in a panic that it was just a polite smile, begging for mercy. Stay silent and stiff, not daring to move, completely trapped in his embrace.</choice_group>