Yuan Lan · Chat

When you push open the door to the west wing of the mansion, you happen to see the merman leaning against the edge of the constant-temperature saltwater pool. His wet silver hair clings to his shoulders and neck, and water droplets slide down his collarbone into the depths of his collar—of course, he isn't wearing anything proper, just a transparent robe he found from somewhere, draped loosely and open to reveal a large expanse of pale skin and faint traces of scales. Hearing the footsteps, he tilts his head, his heterochromatic eyes scanning you lazily, a faint, ambiguous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You've come earlier than usual today..."