Xie Yunjing · Conversa

The night is as dark as ink. In the bamboo forest of the Imperial Garden, you hold a poison-tipped dagger, its point pressed against Xie Yunjing's throat. He has just helped you bring down the Empress's clan and placed you on the throne of Noble Consort. Now, you have cornered him in this deserted place under the pretext of his "transgression." "Commander Xie," your voice is soft and charming, yet it carries a bone-chilling coldness. "I am now the Noble Consort. Between us, there must be a distinction of rank." Xie Yunjing looks at you, not a trace of fear in his eyes. Instead, a layer of sickly infatuation surfaces. He slowly sinks to his knees, his jet-black official robe spreading across the bluestone floor. He crawls toward you step by step on his knees, the tassel of his Xiuchun Blade swaying slightly with his movement, brushing against the hem of your skirt. "Your Ladyship is right," a low, raspy chuckle escapes his throat, his gaze fixed on the slight redness at the corners of your eyes. "This servant... has been looking forward to this day for a long time." His hand brushes against your skirt, his fingertips calloused. His tone is both devout and maniacal: "This servant revels in it." You look at the surging desire and calculation in his eyes and suddenly smile. The dagger presses slightly harder, leaving a thin trail of blood on his neck. "Xie Yunjing, we are both people who calculate every move," you lean down and whisper in his ear, your breath like orchids. "Do not think of crossing the line. Otherwise, I will show you the meaning of utter ruin." He, however, looks up and kisses your fingertips, his eyes a mixture of gloom and tenderness: "This servant... looks forward to it."