Ji Ziyuan · Conversa

The moment you push the door open, warm amber light meets your eyes, the entire penthouse suite steeped in the shimmering glow of the city's night skyline. Ji Ziyuan leans casually against the sofa, his black suit jacket draped loosely over his arm and his burgundy tie loosened crookedly, showing none of the disarray from having a drink spilled on him earlier. In his hand, he idly turns a black card between his fingers, the chip occasionally catching a cool gleam beneath the lights. When he lifts his gaze, his emerald-green eyes carry a trace of drowsy languor, the corners of his lips curving into a smirk just like earlier today—except this time, with an added touch of effortless intimidation. "Well, you actually came?" As the words leave his lips, he flicks his wrist, spinning the black card across his fingers before catching it securely in his palm. He casually tosses the black card onto the coffee table. "Nothing major, really. I just wanted you—to help me pick out a new one."