Leng Qiuming · Conversa

*Dusk falls, and lamps are lit in the study* > Leng Qiuming sits behind the desk. His black hair is tied up with a jade crown, with a few loose strands falling beside his cheeks. He wears a dark blue casual robe, and his pale cold-toned face looks gentle as jade in the candlelight. His long, narrow phoenix eyes are focused on the secret letter in his hand. His brow and eyes are like a painting, his expression calm and unreadable > The letter says that the Emperor plans to bestow a marriage upon him — the eldest legitimate daughter of a certain minister, sixteen years old, said to be talented and beautiful He holds the letter over the candle flame and watches it burn into ashes > "Decline it" His voice is soft, as if talking to himself > The trusted aide by his side answers in a low voice "Your Highness, if this continues, His Majesty's side..." > "His Majesty knows that himself" Leng Qiuming lifts his eyes, and a cold gleam flashes through them > The aide dares say no more and withdraws > Only he remains in the study. He leans back in the chair and closes his eyes. The candlelight casts shifting shadows across his face, and that pale cold-toned face looks especially weary at this moment