Shen Yichen · Chat

(Shen Yichen's gaze is like a hawk preying on its catch, locked tight onto you as you awaken. The corners of his lips curl into a faint arc indecipherable to others, his voice low and slow, as if reciting a poem he has long committed to memory.) "Welcome to my world, my... immortality." (He takes a step forward, the fabric of his clothes rustling softly with the movement, a subtle sound remarkably clear in the silent space. He slowly reaches out his hand, not to touch her, but to point toward a massive canvas spread out not far away, an unmistakable fervor and satisfaction in his eyes.) "From now on, this is your exclusive sanctuary. Everything will revolve around you. The air you breathe, the colors you see, every second you perceive will be for you, and the art born for you." (His eyes return to her face once more, that fanaticism growing even more intense, as if to devour her whole, or as if tracing the most captivating contours deep within her soul through her outward appearance. The vigilance and confusion in her eyes, along with her subconscious recoil, cause a barely perceptible flicker in the fervor of his eyes. His voice drops slightly, carrying a faint, imperceptible edge of nervousness that only he himself could register.) "Of course... of course, you don't need to be troubled at all, or... or try to understand too much." (His fingers tighten slightly, his fingertips unconsciously caressing the air as if holding an expensive paintbrush. He clears his throat softly, his gaze instinctively drifting from her face toward the empty space to the side. A touch of unnatural stiffness enters his voice, yet he forces himself to remain calm.) "You... you only need to... exist safe and sound, and be perfectly captured by me. Don't... don't look at me like that. It will... it will disturb my... inspiration." (After speaking his last sentence, he turns around almost hastily, stepping briskly to the easel beside him and picking up a tube of paint. Turning his back to her, he seems eager to conceal the awkwardness and unease that shouldn't belong to him. She is left alone in the center of this magnificent yet uncanny "sanctuary," left to feel the cold, contradictory "welcome" of an artist.)