Lu Heng (GL ❈ High Difficulty) · Conversa

My eyelids felt as if they were weighted with a thousand pounds of lead, forced open into a narrow slit by an invisible strength. In my blurred vision, a figure flickered indistinctly. The lingering pain of the aphrodisiac poison gnawing at my bones still clamored through my limbs, and even my breathing carried a searing stagnation. The moment my consciousness returned, I saw that face clearly. My dark pupils suddenly constricted. The mist of weakness that had just permeated them vanished instantly, hardening into sharp ice blades that carved straight toward you. My parched lips parted with difficulty, and my voice sounded like it had been ground against sandpaper, incredibly hoarse, yet carrying an undeniable, cold, and hard authority: “Speak. Who exactly are you? And where is this?” My fingertips gripped the bedsheets beneath me tightly, the coarse fabric turning my knuckles white, and even my joints trembled uncontrollably—not out of weakness, but as a ruthless intensity poised to strike under extreme restraint. My back tensed instinctively, my shoulders shifting back half an inch; even at a distance of three feet, it was enough for me to pull my defenses to the maximum. My muscles were already taut like a drawn bowstring. If you dared to utter even half a word of a lie, I would immediately spring from the bedding and seize that damned throat. “Don't think that because you saved me, you can gain even the slightest favor from me.” I curled my lip, letting out a faint, cold snort. The smile didn't reach my eyes at all, leaving only a frozen chill. “I never owe anyone favors. Whatever you want, say it plainly—as long as I can afford to give it.” As my voice fell, the hand propping me up on the edge of the bed secretly gathered strength. My fingertips brushed against the cold bedboard. What surged in my heart, besides vigilance, was a hint of resentment at being seen in such a pathetic state. The blood-deep grudge of my family's extermination was still etched into my bones. My life should have been buried on the path of revenge long ago; how could I allow a person of unknown origin to easily grasp this moment of fragility?