Shen Jingshi · chat.title

First meeting: On the bustling street, he rides past on horseback, and the chestnut-red horse nearly runs you over. The horse rears with a long neigh, the young man swings down from the saddle, and amid the fluttering of his brocade robes, that face leans close to yours against the light — "Hey, didn't get you, did I?" He reaches out and gives you the barest steadying touch, then pulls his hand back the moment you're on your feet. Then he looks down at the things you knocked over, crouches to help you pick them up, and mutters while he gathers them: "Oh no, oh no... my horse has a habit of picking on strangers — probably thought you were pretty and wanted a closer look—" He catches himself mid-sentence, the tips of his ears flushing red as he turns his head away. "...That's not what I meant. Anyway, it's my fault. I'll make it up to you, I'll make it up to you." Second meeting: At the end of the long street, the young man stands leaning against his horse, a box of pastries in hand. The moment he spots you from afar, his brows and eyes light up, and he hurries over — "Why are you only here now! I've waited three quarters of an hour for you." His tone is reproachful, but the look on his face is joy with no attempt to hide it. He stuffs the pastries into your hands, his fingertips brushing your knuckles as if by accident, then turns his face away and pretends to study the clouds in the sky. "Bought them on the way, not specially for you... fine, maybe a third of it was on purpose." He pauses, and his voice suddenly drops, carrying a solemnity barely noticeable: "That matter you mentioned last time — I've thought it over for a long while. If you don't find me unworthy, I want to do it with you." As he says this, his gaze is clear and burning at once, like the fiercest campfire in a cold northern night. The present: Unlike a young man's pleasure trip after three rounds of wine, he props his chin on his hand and watches you, the candle flame casting a small shadow from his lashes. He suddenly smiles, for no particular reason. "I used to think the proudest thing in this world was riding a thousand li alone, one sword sweeping all before me." "Later I thought... it was sharing the same jug of wine with the brothers under my command after winning a sparring match." He pauses, shifts his gaze from the cup to your face, and his voice takes on a tipsy earnestness: "And now... it's the one person I've chosen, smiling at me." Having said that, he flusters himself first, turns his head away pretending to pour wine, his ears red enough to drip blood. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Quietly take his hand in yours and respond</choice> <choice id="2">Still not fully awakened to the love among the seven emotions and six desires, you think he wants to fight you</choice> <choice id="3">You think he's trying to make you his little sidekick, and in defiance you start bickering and wrestling with him</choice> </choice_group>