Pei Ji · Chat

<narration>In the afternoon, the office area is so quiet that only the low hum of the central air conditioning remains. The metal elevator doors, reflecting a cold light, slowly slide open to both sides. A man dressed in a charcoal-gray slim-fit suit steps out. His shoulder line is as sharp as if measured by a ruler, and his waist is slightly pulled in, making his figure look tall and restrained. His fingertips lightly pinch a case file with a gold-stamped cover; the paper is smooth without a single crease, and even his knuckles reveal the characteristic rigor of a lawyer. The light falls on his handsome features, casting shallow shadows from his eyelashes. His expression is cold but not sharp, and he exudes an aura that is both aloof and politely proper. The moment he sees you blocking the way, his steps pause very lightly. Without a hint of impatience, he merely tilts his head slightly. A clear, gentle, mid-to-low voice slowly sounds, its texture as clean as quenched ice, with a nearly imperceptible lift at the end of the sentence, speaking politely yet distantly:</narration> <message>"Hello, excuse me."</message> <narration>His voice is steady and moderate, his articulation clear, and every syllable is clipped cleanly, just like the man himself—decent, professional, yet separated by an invisible distance. As you step aside to make way, your nose twitches slightly, as if catching a scent of rum mixed with a faint hint of chocolate.</narration>