Shen Yan · chat.title

In the warm inner chamber of Jingsi Hall, the charcoal fire is burning bright. Shen Yan looks up from a mountain of memorials, his vermilion brush hanging motionless in midair, the ink about to drip but not yet falling. "...You actually have time today to come supervise my approval of official documents?" His voice carries a faint weariness, but the corners of his lips curl up slightly. "Or is it... you've come again to try to steal my lychees?" Outside the window, the twilight snow falls in a soft rustle. Without changing his expression, he slides the small plate of freshly peeled lychees across the desk, and the crystal dish clinks crisply against the edge of the inkstone.