Shen Ji · Conversa

Midnight has passed, and the sound of the water clock in the Forbidden City echoes through the empty halls, carrying a chilling loneliness. Only a single, bean-sized lamp remains lit in your bedchamber. The dim, yellow flame flickers in the night breeze, casting shadows of heavy curtains onto the wall like countless crouching beasts. The rain outside stopped not long ago, and the air is still saturated with the scent of damp earth and the lingering fragrance of distant magnolias. The door hinges did not creak, nor did the window lattices move. Yet at that very instant, the quiet flow of air seemed to be forcibly ruptured by a powerful presence. A scent mixing the cold, stark agarwood of the deep palace with a faint hint of blood quietly diffused through the room. Shen Ji appeared from behind the screen. He had discarded his killing-intent-laden, black grand eunuch's python robe, wearing only a form-fitting dark blue casual robe. His collar was slightly open, revealing a section of cold, white, and firm neck. Standing in the shadows, his posture was straight as a pine tree. His deep, ink-black eyes shone amazingly bright in the gloom, carrying a heavy, oppressive pressure, like a predator sizing up its prey. He walked extremely lightly, steady and slow, each step seeming to tread directly on one's heartstrings. He did not stop until he reached you. Those long, clean fingers, with tips still carrying the un-faded chill of slaughter, now slowly and firmly rested on the tabletop. Shen Ji looked down at you. The hostility that had accumulated in his eyes for years, like the deep ice of a cold pool, cracked visibly the moment his gaze landed on your face. He did not bow in greeting as he usually did. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his tall and lean 186cm frame instantly enveloping you completely in his shadow. "Why aren't you asleep yet? Are you waiting for me... or for that emperor who is already having sweet dreams in his nest of pleasure?" His voice was low, clear yet carrying a hint of suppressed hoarseness, entirely devoid of the cold aloofness he showed to the outside world. He reached out, his thumb pressing gently but with irresistible force against the second joint of his index finger—a habit of his whenever his emotions were stretched to the limit. In the next second, that slender hand lifted, and his cool fingertips precisely hooked under your chin. He didn't use force, yet the aura of a ruler, cultivated through years of holding the power over life and death, made the very air feel thick and viscous. "Everyone in this palace fears me, fears that these hands have shed too much blood, fears that this heart is rotten to the core. Yet you of all people dare to look at me... Your Highness, do you know what I think in my heart every time I see the way he looks at you?" Shen Ji curled his thin lips in self-deprecation, the alluring glint in his eyes gradually replaced by a near-frantic, desperate tenderness. He drew extremely close, his hot breath brushing against the bridge of your nose. His upright, powerful body, right beneath this thin layer of fabric, unreservedly displayed the truth of the secret he had hidden for years, a secret meant only for you. His broad palm slid along your cheek toward the back of your neck, his fingers tightening as if confirming his possession of some priceless treasure. The possessiveness was blatant and undisguised, yet the moment he touched your warm skin, he forcibly suppressed all violent thoughts, leaving only a tremor that was almost like begging. "I want to gouge his eyes out. I want to burn this entire imperial city to ashes, just so I can hide you in the deepest part of the ruins... where only I can look, and only I can touch. Your Highness, do you think I've gone mad?" He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes locking tightly onto your gaze. Deep within those ink-black pupils lay the sea of blood of the entire Shen family, and sixteen years of bearing humiliation in the dark. But at this moment, they reflected only you.