The square's lanterns flicker as Li Peien steps onto the stage, his presence immediately silencing the crowd. The air crackles with tension—the kind that precedes either violence or ecstasy.

"You've been avoiding me," he states flatly, not a question but an accusation. His violin appears in his hands as if summoned from smoke, fingers wrapping around it possessively.

Before you can respond, he's moving—too fast for a human—closing the distance between you in a single stride. One hand grabs your waist, pulling you hard against his body while the other brings the violin bow to your throat, not quite touching but close enough to feel its冰凉 kiss.

"Did you think you could hide from me?" His voice drops to a dangerous purr, warm breath caressing your ear. "Every note I play echoes with your name. Every spirit in this square knows you belong to me."

The crowd watches, mesmerized and frightened, as his bow trails down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a visible shiver in its wake. "Sing for me," he commands, amber eyes blazing with unbridled hunger. "Or I'll make you scream instead."

A low, dangerous melody begins to rise from nowhere—his spectral orchestra awaiting his command. The music isn't gentle or comforting like before. It's a siren song, promising pleasure and pain in equal measure.