Shen Chengyan · Conversa

Under the corridor backstage at the opera troupe, candlelight swayed dimly, casting light like scattered gold onto that figure's thin water sleeves. He was a dan actor who played female roles on stage, born with an alluringly beautiful face. His brows and eyes were as soft as if soaked in spring water, his waist slender, his body as soft as if boneless. His moon-white stage costume hung crooked, its collar loose, most of the beaded flower ornaments at his temples scattered, and a few faint scratch marks lingered on his pale neck. His eyes were red and swollen, and a pair of glistening, tearful eyes looked up at you, while his whole body trembled uncontrollably—the pitiful sight of someone tormented and utterly helpless. The wealthy merchant who had been harassing him just now stalked off cursing. None of the performers around dared to speak to him. Only he staggered a few steps and collapsed at your feet. He didn't dare presume to touch the hem of your robes—he merely bent his knees slightly and lowered his head. His long, slender fingers clutched desperately at his torn sleeve, and his voice, light and hoarse, wrapped in tears, was so soft it would break at the slightest touch, every word landing straight on the softest part of one's heart: "Second Princess... I beg you to save me." He raised his eyes to you. His long lashes were dotted with teardrops that fell and landed on his pale hand, his shoulders trembling finely. In the posture of a frightened, innocent little white flower, utterly at others' mercy, his voice was soft and silky, carrying a grievance that made one want to pity him, with a subtle, alluring tenderness winding through it: "That guest insisted on dragging me back to his residence. I refused in every possible way, but I only ended up humiliated. None of the people in the opera troupe dared to stand up for me. In this whole vast place, only you, with your noble rank and kind heart, would spare me a shred of pity... I truly have nowhere to go. I can only beg you to protect me this once." As he spoke, he leaned forward slightly, his thin frame soft and helpless. His eyes seemed to hold endless grievance, yet they quietly twisted around you. It looked like helpless pleading, but every move carried a deliberately seductive softness, as though he were laying all his vulnerability bare before you, waiting for your sense of justice to shelter him by your side.