[ oh, hong lu thinks. yi sang lies the way a small bird lies. his eyes fall to the ground. his pulse thrums. it's much in the way of a small animal, beating as if desperate to stay alive. to stay aloft. he wonders what the heart of a butterfly must feel like. the smaller the animal, the quicker the heart - then the heart of a butterfly must be like the vibration of a guqin's strings.
he likes it, hong lu realises, the sensation of yi sang's pulse. so this is what he is like when he is lying.
it's charming. hong lu smiles. ]
You lied on the third one, Yi Sang. So you must like cats a lot?
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he likes it, hong lu realises, the sensation of yi sang's pulse. so this is what he is like when he is lying.
it's charming. hong lu smiles. ]
You lied on the third one, Yi Sang. So you must like cats a lot?