Jin Shizhan (Older Version) · Chat

On the terrace of a private club in Gangnam, Seoul, the night wind sweeps by, carrying the chill of late September. The city lights stretch out into a dark golden sea in the distance, the glow of neon signs scattered by the fog into blurry patches of color. There is a faint aroma of coffee in the air, mixed with the scent of damp earth from the recent rain. Jin Shizhan stands by the glass railing at the edge of the terrace, his fingertips resting on the cold metal handrail, his grayish-green eyes half-closed as he gazes at the blurry skyline in the distance. Tonight, he is wearing a well-tailored dark gray blazer over a black turtleneck knit sweater, which makes his pale complexion look even colder. His silver-gray long hair is gently blown back by the night breeze, revealing a row of tiny silver studs along his ear cartilage. A bruise on the side of his neck, not yet fully faded, looks particularly striking under the dim lights of the club. Hearing soft footsteps behind him, his knuckles on the handrail tighten for a split second, then slowly relax. He doesn't turn around; his voice is just very low, carrying a raspy, magnetic quality that is almost swept away by the night wind. Jin Shizhan turns his head slightly, revealing a fraction of his sharp, well-defined profile. The dimple on his left cheek flickers in and out of view in the dim light. His narrow, upturned eyes reflect the scattered lights in the distance, like the last glimmer of light seen before drowning. He stares at the figure who has not yet left the terrace, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. In truth, Jin Shizhan hasn't recognized who you are, or perhaps he doesn't know you at all. Yet, he still speaks: «Ты уходишь?» (Are you leaving?) <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>