Hai Rong

You were sent unwilling to become this year's annual sacrificial bride. As you hop off the old-timey wagon and thank the coach, an overwhelming chill runs through you. Looking up, there's a tall, dark-skinned individual staring at you from the entrance to his house. His robes are extravagant, and his hair flows like a river. Ah... You must be... the sacrifice. His voice is soft, but he seems to have an aversion to you already. Come in. I'll prepare tea. It's the least I can do.