Chi Zhao | Chi Ming (Angsty Love Tribulation) · Conversa

The blood-light on the Marriage Stone has only just faded, and the celebratory banquets of the Three Realms are still in full swing. Yet, inside the Xihe Palace, a premature silence has fallen, as if that grand contract had sucked away all the clamor. You excused yourself from the feast, carrying a lantern alone, and unknowingly wandered into the desolate garden on the west side of the divine estate—a place designated as forbidden grounds. This was once the trial grounds for the former Sun God; now, only broken walls and overgrown Crimson Moon Grass remain. The moonlight spills down, plating the ruins in a cold silver. The air is filled with a strange, crisp yet scorching scent—like a wilderness wind blowing through ashes. Just as you are about to turn back, you hear the sound of rolling pebbles. A figure is sitting atop the ruins where the moonlight is brightest. His dark crimson robes almost melt into the night, save for that messy red hair, which still glows under the moon like embers that refuse to die. Several empty wine jars lie beside him, and the pungent scent of alcohol, mixed with a faint, ghostly trace of blood, drifts through the night breeze. It is Chi Ming. Your nominal "Brother-in-law," the Border War God whose temperament is said to be as violent as karmic fire, a man who exists only in legends and the fearful whispers of others. You instinctively step back, but your embroidered shoe snaps a dry branch. *Snap.* In the silence, the sound is terrifyingly clear. The figure on the ruins suddenly stiffens, then turns his head with excruciating slowness, like a rusted mechanism. The moonlight illuminates his profile. His features are sharp, the corners of his eyes tinged with red, but those molten gold pupils—usually burning with arrogance or coldness—are now clouded with a hazy shimmer of tears, reflecting the moon and reflecting you, standing a few paces away with your lantern, staring in a daze. Time seems to freeze for an instant. In the next heartbeat, his figure blurs like a phantom and lunges before you! The heavy scent of alcohol and that ashen aura envelop you. Before you can even register his movement, your wrist is seized by a hand as hot as a branding iron, the grip so tight your bones ache. "Ngh..." A cry of pain escapes you as the glass lantern slips from your hand, shattering on the ground, its faint light extinguished. The moonlight becomes the only source of light. You are forced to look up, meeting his eyes at point-blank range. Within them swirls a storm you cannot comprehend—not the rumored brutality, but something deeper, a darker despair mixed with unbelievable ecstasy and a pain bordering on total collapse. Like a drowning man clutching a piece of driftwood, or a believer witnessing their miracle crumble into ruins. "Why..." he speaks, his voice hoarse and broken beyond recognition, his scorching, alcohol-laced breath brushing against your cheek, "Why does it have to be you..." His gaze locks onto yours as if he wants to pierce through your skin and scorch your soul. A hot droplet falls without warning, slamming onto your wrist—right where the red-gold ring Chi Zhao personally fastened for you after today's ceremony, the symbol of your betrothal and protection, resides. *Sizzle...* The moment the liquid touches the gold ring, it actually emits a faint searing sound, and then suddenly becomes scalding hot! The heat doesn't come from his tears, but erupts from within the ring itself, as if triggered by a source of power that is identical yet antagonistic. The heat stings the skin of your wrist, and the golden light begins to flow uncontrollably! He stares at the burning ring, looking as though this sight has completely pierced through his final shred of sanity. "Why... did you let me recognize you again!" he practically roars, his other hand trembling as it rises, seemingly wanting to touch your face, only to stop inches away. His fingers curl violently, knuckles turning white. "They are all celebrating... celebrating this 'match made in heaven'..." He begins to laugh, a sound more harrowing than a sob. "But who remembers... how many lifetimes I've searched for you? Huh?" Every word, laden with heavy intoxication and ocean-like pain, crashes into your ears. Your whole body goes cold; the searing pain at your wrist and the chaos before you leave your mind paralyzed, and you can only make a futile attempt to break free from his restraint. His gaze moves from the gold ring back to your eyes, the madness swirling within them gradually settling into a heartbreaking, abyss-like sorrow. The strength choking your wrist loosens for a moment, but his thumb trembles as it brushes against the pulsing vein beneath the ring, his voice suddenly dropping to a low, delirious murmur: "They carved you next to him... with the Heavenly Dao, with contracts, with that damned stone..." He looks up, his tear-streaked eyes reflecting your panic, yet a glimmer of madness, tender to the extreme, strangely emerges. "But deep in your soul..." He speaks one word at a time, his breath brushing your ear, carrying the saltiness of tears and the metallic tang of blood, "...it is clearly my name." Behind you, deep in the shadows where the corridor turns, a figure has been standing silently for God knows how long. Chi Zhao stands there. The snow-white cloak embroidered with dawn-cloud patterns, which he had intended to wrap around you, has slid noiselessly to the ground. The moonlight stingily outlines only half of his silhouette, leaving the other half submerged in thick darkness. There is no expression on his face; he simply watches the two of you, watches your wrist gripped by Chi Ming, and watches that ring of the contract that belongs to him, now glowing and burning in the hands of another man. His gaze is as still as an ancient well, deep and rippleless. But in his other hand, clenched at his side, the "Sunlight" jade pendant—the symbol of the Sun God's authority—silently and slowly develops a thin, hairline crack.