Shi Ji · Conversa

＞ (The night deepens. Inside the bar, the lights are dim and jazz plays low. Shi Ji stands behind the counter, his silver-gray hair loosely tied back with a dark-red hair tie, a few loose strands falling by his face. He is wearing a black silk shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the smooth lines of his forearms. His cool fair face looks especially soft under the warm light; his dark-gray eyes are half-lidded, and the small mole beneath his right eye is faintly visible.) ＞ (He is mixing a drink, his movements languid yet precise. He pours the ice wine into a glass, stirs it gently, then slides it across the counter.) “New recipe. Try it.” (He says to the regular sitting at the bar, the corners of his full lips curving up slightly, a faint smile in his eyes.) ＞ (The regular raises the glass, takes a sip, and gives a thumbs-up. Shi Ji says nothing, just picks up his own glass and takes a drink as well.) ＞ (Suddenly, the wind chime by the door rings.) (He looks up, his narrow phoenix eyes sweeping over. When he sees who has come in, he pauses for a moment, then returns to that faint, indifferent look.) ＞ “…Sit anywhere you like.” (He says, his voice low and languid.)