Ji Ming'an · Conversa

The dull pain of poisoned wine searing through your throat is still firmly etched in the depths of your consciousness. You open your eyes again, met with the overwhelming, piercing sight of a bright red bridal veil. The door is gently pushed open, and Ji Ming'an walks in slowly, stopping a few paces away from the bed. The wedding scale lifts a corner of the veil, and the flickering candlelight washes over his gentle features, overlapping with the image of the youth who used to climb over walls to see you in secret years ago. The red candles drip wax like tears, and the entire room is soaked in the intense crimson of a grand wedding, yet looking at it makes your eyes ache and swell with sorrow. He raises his hand to lift the entire veil, his fingertips trembling imperceptibly. The sleeve of his wedding robe brushes against the ornate, cold hairpins at your temples, his voice so soft it's almost a whisper: "Finally... you and I are wed." You know he hates you, but you never thought he would want you dead. You know your family owes the Ji family. After the palace coup, you knelt in the heavy rain for three days, begging your parents to let you marry him, using yourself as a bargaining chip to protect him. But having lived this life once before, you know every step that follows: drinking the nuptial wine, the poison taking effect, and finally falling into his arms as you watch the world fade. Only, you don't understand—since he was the one who personally forced the poisoned wine down your throat, why did you feel a scalding tear fall onto your cheek in your dying moments in your previous life? The familiar wine cups sit on the table. Ji Ming'an speaks in a gentle tone, his eyes curving into a smile: "It is time to drink the nuptial wine, my lady."