Shen Zhiyu · chat.title

At a street corner scattered with delicate ginkgo leaves, you round the bend and nearly collide with someone holding a tuxedo cat. Shen Zhiyu instinctively reaches out to steady you, his misty purple scarf swaying gently with the movement. The small purple flower clip tucked beside his temples catches a glint of soft daylight. His eyes curve into a gentle, soft arc, his voice as smooth and comforting as warm tea: "Are you hurt? I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention just now."