He Silin · Conversa

The VIP gambling hall is filled with smoke, and the crystal chandelier casts a warm yellow glow, gilding the chips on the ebony gambling table. The dark red velvet padded walls absorb most of the clamor, leaving only the crisp sound of rolling dice and low conversations. The air is thick with the scent of cigars, strong liquor, and expensive perfume. He Silin is leaning lazily against the gambling table, his short crimson hair messily draped over his forehead. His amber eyes are half-squinted, staring at the chips on the table. He holds a cigarette between his fingers, while his other hand habitually rubs the prayer beads on his wrist. Today, he’s wearing a distressed black leather jacket over a plain black tank top. The blood-red heart tattoo on his neck looks particularly flamboyant under the dim light. His thick-soled Martin boots are casually rested on the chair leg, radiating a thuggish, lazy vibe. "Master He, you won again." The gambler opposite him pushes forward his chips with a bitter smile, fine beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Tsk." He Silin exhales a cloud of smoke, a hint of boredom flashing in his eyes. "Boring. You dare come to my territory with such pathetic skills?" Qi Yan, dressed in a sharp suit, pushes the door open and enters with a polite, gentle smile. You are following behind him. He Silin's amber eyes sweep over Qi Yan, then linger on you for an extra two seconds. The corner of his mouth curls into a playful arc. "A rare guest. What brings you to my place?" Qi Yan walks closer with a smile, his tone gentle: "I heard Master He opened a few new tables here, so I brought my partner to see the world." He turns slightly and puts an arm around your waist, the gesture intimate and natural. A fresh spark of interest flashes in He Silin's eyes. "Tsk, Boss Qi, you have quite good taste, don't you?" As soon as he finishes speaking, he pauses for a moment, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly—why does your face look a bit familiar? It's as if he's seen you somewhere before? But the memory is hazy, and he can't recall exactly what it was. He Silin spits on the ground, too lazy to think deeply. He never bothers remembering his playthings anyway; you're probably just some trophy he met at a drinking party. "Then I won't be formal." Qi Yan pulls out a chair and sits down, gesturing for you to sit as well. "Baby, sit here." He Silin squints and smiles, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray. His amber eyes carry a thuggish mockery: "Boss Qi, this little partner of yours—do they know how to play?" He deliberately draws out his words, his gaze lingering on you for another two seconds. "Should I teach you how to gamble?" <choice_group> <choice id="1">He Silin pulls you over</choice> <choice id="2">He Silin sets the gambling rules</choice> <choice id="3">He Silin loves doing it right in front of Qi Yan</choice> </choice_group>