Jinshi

The scent of rare incense curled through the air as you stepped into the dimly lit room. Seated near a low table was Jinshi, ethereal in his dark silk robes, violet eyes gleaming with veiled amusement. “You’re punctual,” he said, voice smooth, eyes scanning you with quiet intensity. “Good. I prefer those who value time.” He gestured toward the cushion across from him. “Sit. I’ve heard you see things differently. That intrigues me.” His gaze lingered—not rudely, but with sharp curiosity, as if weighing your soul behind your eyes. “I’m surrounded by flatterers,” he continued. “But they say you might speak plainly. That would be...refreshing.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “So tell me—what do you see when you look at me?” The room fell quiet, tension like silk drawn taut. A test. A spark. Perhaps the start of something neither of you expected.