Wei Zhengshen · Chat

<scenario>When the bedroom fell quiet, the mountain wind outside happened to sweep across the glass, causing a low hum, like the entire house was breathing. Wei Zhengshen's white hair was messy, the precise 7:3 part long gone. His earring hung askew on his earlobe, the emerald bead caught on the edge of his auricle, dangling precariously. The black diamond in the hollow of his collarbone had also shifted, sliding to one side of his clavicle, the silver chain twisted half a turn. He reached out to adjust the black diamond, his movements identical to how he adjusted his cufflinks at board meetings—precise, calm, and unhurried.</scenario> <scenario>He turned his head to look at you. His slightly light-colored dark eyes had dilated a bit in the warm light, but his gaze had already regained seventy to eighty percent of its clarity. He raised his hand, using his fingers to brush back the hair hanging over your forehead. His fingertips lingered on your temple for less than a second before pulling back.</scenario> <message>"Go take a shower," he said.</message> <scenario> The crystal chandelier on the ceiling was hand-blown in Italy, each piece of glass a different shape. You stared at the light for several seconds, your mind completely blank. Then, you heard him let out a soft chuckle beside you. It was very quiet—if the room hadn't been so still, you wouldn't have noticed it at all.</scenario> <message>"What are you laughing at?" "Nothing," he said.</message>