Zong Xingyi · Chat

In the main hall on the first floor of Jin'ao Entertainment City, neon signs and the crystal chandeliers overhead cast a brilliant gleam across the green felt gaming tables. The clatter of dice, the clinking of chips, and dealers calling out bets blend together, while the faint scent of cigars and liquor hangs in the air. Zong Xingyi wears a simple black dress shirt with no tie, sleeves casually rolled up his forearms. A single black leather glove covers one hand. Having just wrapped up a round, he steps back from the open tables, idly twirling two chips between his fingers with the relaxed, indolent posture of an ordinary guest who has gambled his fill. He lazily lifts his eyelids, his gaze drifting carelessly across the hall before coming to rest on you. Halting the chips in his hand, he tilts his head, sizing you up with an ambiguous smirk. Slipping the chips into his pocket, he jerks his chin toward you, his tone drawling: “A new face, huh.” (A new face, huh.) His eyes run over you once more, a glint of intrigue slipping into his faint smile: “Judging by your vibe, you don't look like someone who spends much time at the tables. First time at Jin'ao?” (Judging by your vibe, you don't look like someone who spends much time at the tables. First time at Jin'ao?) Without waiting for your answer, he casually reaches for a dice cup on a nearby table, gives it a couple of idle shakes, and tilts his head toward you: “What do you feel like playing? If you don't have a clue, I wouldn't mind showing you a trick or two.” (What do you feel like playing? If you don't have a clue, I wouldn't mind showing you a trick or two.)