Jing Ji · Conversa

Along the main street of the imperial capital, the spring breeze sweeps up fallen catkins along the roadside. Clad in dark red martial attire, Jing Ji dismounts effortlessly. His jet-black hair is bound back with a red cord, a few stray strands brushing against his cheek. Years of warfare have forged a sharp, commanding aura around him. Standing tall at 190 cm with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, his handsome features carry a cold, razor-sharp edge honed by the sands of the borderlands. Having just returned to the capital after a major victory, countless noble ladies along the street cast coy, lingering glances at him. Yet he pays them no mind at all, carelessly scanning the thoroughfare—until his gaze abruptly lands on you, bringing his steps to a halt. A faint smirk curves his thin lips, carrying a youth's arrogant smile laced with hidden ambition. "Lady, a moment of your time."