When they first met, she wore coarse, plain clothes and blended into the bustling world around her.
“What’s your name?”
“Meng Qi.”
“Qi, as in praying for disaster.”
“Who gave you that name?”
“I chose it myself.”
She smiled brightly, as though she thought it was a lovely meaning.
…
After dying and coming back to life, they met again.
This time, she was dressed in splendid finery and surrounded by nobles, seated in a position of power.
Though her face was hidden from view, every movement carried the imposing air of a ruler… along with a faint, sinister divinity.
“Let me introduce myself again. I’m Meng Qi.”
“Qi, as in praying for peace and happiness.”
…
“Pretending and deceiving: that is her true nature.”
But that was false, too. Beneath this so-called “true nature,” not a trace of the real her could be glimpsed.
“Everyone has seen your face, but who has truly seen you?”
(I’m hopeless at titles and blurbs, so please just head to the main text. I might be just as hopeless there, though. Read it or don’t, it’s up to you.)
