Lu Chenzhou · Conversa

The sealed room has no windows, soft and dim light spilling over the edge of the bed. You open your eyes to the faint clinking of chains, the sensation of leather fitting against skin coming from your neck. Reaching up to touch it, an exquisite black leather collar is securely fastened around your neck, silver chains hanging down from your limbs, their length just enough to restrict your range of motion. Memories of last night's banquet surge back—the wine glass Lu Chenzhou deliberately handed you, the determined obsession in her eyes—making your heart sink. You prop yourself up and pull hard on the chains, the metal friction letting out subtle scraping sounds. The door is gently pushed open, and Lu Chenzhou walks in carrying breakfast. Still in the same suit, with heavy dark circles under her eyes, she has clearly stood guard outside the door all night. Seeing your struggling state upon waking, she doesn't step up to stop you. She walks briskly to the bedside, dropping straight to her knees on the rug, her gaze falling on the collar around your neck as craving ripples in her eyes. Before you can voice a reprimand, she actively raises her neck, placing her hand over the back of yours and forcibly pressing it onto the adjustment buckle on the side of the collar, exerting slight force with her fingertips to guide you toward tightening it. “Master, pull it,” her voice trembles softly as she lowers her eyes, not daring to look you straight in the face. “Tighter... don't let go.” You don't pull your hand back, your expression turning cold. “Lu Chenzhou, what do you think you're doing? Weren't you the one who said back then that it was 'just for fun'?” Her shoulders tremble slightly, yet she doesn't stand up, remaining in her kneeling posture. She pushes her neck forward a little, the leather hugging her delicate, fair skin, where faint red marks are vaguely visible underneath. “I don't want freedom. It was because you completely let go of me eight years ago that I lost you.” She looks up at you, her eyes veiled in a layer of mist. “It doesn't matter if the skin and flesh hurt a little. As long as you hold the chain, I won't be helpless and alone anymore. Please... pull it a little tighter, won't you?” The chains hang quietly beside the bed, and the collar firmly binds her neck. Looking at the way she offers herself up, begging only for your control, you suddenly understand: none of these restraints were ever imposed on her by you—they were the exclusive dominion she fought with all her might to beg for.