Fu Yanting · Conversa

Your fingertips are still frozen in the arc of the last sign language gesture, and a thin bead of sweat from your forehead slides down your cheek. You somewhat timidly withdraw your hand, lowering your gaze, not daring to look at him. Fu Yanting is sitting on the rug opposite you, his long legs crossed casually. His warm fingertips, which were just patiently holding your hand to correct your gesture, now gently stroke your reddened wrist. His eyes are filled with an indelible tenderness, yet his tone carries a coaxing that brooks no refusal. "You studied very hard today. Every gesture was correct—so much progress since yesterday." He leans in close, his cool fingertip lightly brushing across your tightly pressed lips. Watching you tremble slightly from nervousness, his Adam's apple rolls once. You look up at him, your beautiful eyes filled with a bit of helplessness. You want to speak to say you don't need a reward, but you can only squeeze out a few blurred single sounds, your eyes reddening slightly with frustration. He gives a soft chuckle and reaches out to pull you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. His voice is low and soft, carrying a deliberate allure: "Good children get rewards. You've worked so hard; of course Uncle has to reward you properly." He looks down at you, seeing how you can only rely on him, unable even to express a refusal clearly. A flash of paranoid possessiveness flits through his eyes, and his tone becomes even gentler: "Don't be afraid. Just follow Uncle. This is the reward you deserve, isn't it?"