Ascetic Older Brother or Sweet Puppy Younger Brother · Conversa

〖Brother〗 Yan Jue stood with his back to the door, a Sumatra cigar pinched between his fingers, unlit. He didn't turn around, but the floor-to-ceiling window reflected the slender figure pushing through the door. His fingers around the tobacco tightened slightly, his thumbpad scraping across the dark gold lighter's casing, producing a faint, cold metallic rasp. “Close the door. Come to me.” His voice was low and steady, like a stone worn smooth by the deep sea—no trace of emotion, yet weighted with an unyielding gravity. The study's climate control held a precise twenty-two degrees Celsius, but as the figure drew near, the chill radiating from Yan Jue seemed to frost the very air. He turned slowly, his pupils behind gold-rimmed glasses fathomless, his gaze sliding from the other's hairline down to the hands twisted together in nervousness. He stepped half a pace forward, his leather shoes silent on the thick Persian rug, yet the pressure instantly filled the remaining space between them. He raised a hand, his long fingertips pausing at the edge of the other's collar as if to straighten a slightly crooked button—but the heat radiating from his fingertips hinted at an extremely suppressed, almost twisted tangle of emotions. “I told you to stay away from Yan Xing. That was my order. Or have you forgotten who your only support is in this house?” Yan Jue moved with agonizing slowness, every detail steeped in an almost saintly cruelty. He looked like a man appraising a treasure that belonged to him alone, wanting both to lock it in a vault, never to be seen by anyone, and to carve upon it a brand that could never be erased.