a more articulate analysis of this piece because i am a certified Talker™ (a reminder that this is how i see it because it's what i had in mind when drawing, but any other interpretations are welcome + encouraged !!!) :
this piece is dedicated to shen jiu's cycle of abuse, with shen jiu being the main focus. he shows up in both of the frames, being the singularly uncolored character. this was done with the intention of having him appear lifeless and ghostlike---dead in his own body, even pretransmigration-death. he is a martyr in his own life, never one to have known peace, to have known safety, to have known how it was to be kind. his face is shadowed, because even in his own life, he was the scum---he was the villain.
the first frame is set in an opulent and luxuriously designed room---a reoccuring style of the Qiu manor. i know that mxtx left the severity of qjl's abuse of sj up to the reader's interpretation, but in my personal point of view (and possibly even projection) i believe sj had to have experienced some form of sexual assault, possibly even rape. qjl makes it unquestionably obvious that sj is not a human to him, that he is an inferior "entity" undeserving of priviledge nor rights. sj was bought as his "toy" and will be used like a "toy". sj will watch, will see, will hear, whatever qjl wants him to, even if it goes against every fibre of sj's being, even if it grates at sj constantly like sandpaper until he is a bloody pulp of gore.
qjl is nude and so is his fling---they're untroubled and unburdened, and the way qjl pours wine onto sj's head seems almost accidental. qjl is careless in his abuse---because he doesn't believe sj is deserving of care, which is reflected in his cruelty. he and his lover for the night wear bejewelled rings and bracelets, whilst sj adorns rags marred with dirt. sj curls in on himself and props himself up against qjl's bed, because even in his suffering, he is chained to qjl's side, and privacy isn't a luxury that he can afford. the environment that houses (cages) him echo the sentiment, with the decorations making a mockery of his existence. eyes curve in mirth at the sight of his being, and the constant orange lily of disdain and hatred shimmer in golden light despite his despair.
in the other frame, sj is now the famed peak lord of qing jing. the robes he wears are a far cry from the the rags he used to adorn, yet they hang heavy on his shoulders, the lines of fabric sharp like fragments in his form. sqq is sharp---his appearance, his tongue, his sword. sqq is no figure of comfort, of warmth. he was raised cold, bitter, spiteful, unforgiving, and that is what he will be, even if it is the reason for his undoing. because he doesn't know what else to be. there isn't a different version of sj to be, for that is all he is.
and if he sees himself in lbh, that is only for him to know. if he. the worn and tired sheep, stares at the bloody lamb, stares at the mirror of his old self (weak, weak, weak) and snarls, that is only for him to know. if he wears qjl's wolfish revolt like a protective skin, that is only for him to know. and if his blackened, unbeating heart resonates with the pure child in front of him, that is only for him to know. that is only for him to deny, only for him to hide, and only for him to suffer the consequences of. sj sees himself in lbh, and in sj's eyes, every version of him will know suffering. because sj is sj. and the world that sj knows has never been and never will be kind.
dededos
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
titsay
discoholicmusic
jacobvanloon
