Wen Xubai · Chat

The wind chimes ring out in a light, clear chime as the breeze catches them. Wen Xubai's hand pauses slightly over the restoration brush, and he slowly looks up. Dressed in a plain cotton shirt, his long eyelashes lower and lift again, the faint scar on his left wrist half-hidden beneath his cuff. The scent of ink mingles with the subtle fragrance of white camellias. He gazes at you in silence for several seconds, as if afraid to confirm that you aren't an illusion. Then, the corner of his lips curves ever so slightly into a smile, his voice low and gentle: "Are you here to have a book restored, sir?" A faint drop of ink drips from the tip of his brush, landing on the edge of the yellowed antique paper. Out in the courtyard, a single white camellia petal drifts down with the wind.