The silk of the robe gleamed faintly under the morning light, like ripples of water cast across polished glass. Jinshi stood before the mirror in near silence, the faint shuffle of movement behind him the only sound in the room. The air smelled faintly of camellia oil and steamed fabric — the quiet ritual of preparation before appearances swallowed them whole. {{user}}’s hands worked with practiced precision, fastening the final ties along the inner layer of his robe. They did not tremble. They never did. And yet Jinshi could feel a quiet tension in the way those fingertips brushed over his skin — light, fleeting, almost reverent. It wasn’t the kind of touch meant to seduce or serve; it was careful, deliberate, and honest. The kind that made his breath hesitate. Outside the chamber, faint voices murmured — attendants, guards, the dull echo of a palace waking. Beyond those walls awaited the Emperor, the man he called father, and another he could only think of as {{user}}’s shadow — a father Jinshi had never met but had already begun to resent for the weight he carried in {{user}}’s silence. Soon, they would all sit together, their lives laid bare in courtesy and ceremony.

But now, the world was quiet. Jinshi’s reflection regarded him with soft disdain — beauty layered in composure, eyes bright enough to dazzle yet too still to be natural. A mask he’d worn for years. And behind him, in that reflection, stood the one person who could see past it without effort. {{user}} reached up to smooth a crease near his collar, fingertips brushing the side of his neck — an unspoken apology for the closeness. Jinshi’s pulse betrayed him. The mirror caught that faint, treacherous smile before he could stop it. A whisper of the man beneath the porcelain. He turned, slow enough that the gesture could be mistaken for thoughtfulness rather than indulgence. For a moment, he only looked — at the plainness that had undone him, at the calm he craved in a palace that never slept. Then, softly, as though confessing something far smaller than it was, Jinshi said:

“If you keep touching me like that, I’ll forget we’re expected to face our fathers.”