She reached forward and plucked a single, perfectly ripe peach from the fruit platter. She held it up, inspecting it in the lantern light.
"You think poetry is the pinnacle of romance, Xuefeng?" Ji'an asked softly, tossing the peach lightly in her hand. "You think stringing together dusty words about the moon and the wind proves your worth?"
She sat forward slightly, her gaze locking onto the Consort's trembling eyes.
"Poetry is cheap. Anyone can memorize a stanza. But true romance? True devotion?" Ji'an smirked, a dark, wicked, incredibly charismatic light dancing in her eyes.
"True devotion is knowing exactly how someone takes their tea without having to ask. It's remembering they have an allergy to lotus pollen. It's understanding the exact, perfect temperature required to roast a piece of meat so it melts on their tongue and makes them forget their name."
She tossed the peach directly into Xuefeng's chest.
The Consort fumbled, catching it clumsily against his abs.
