Wen Jue
When you push open the theatre doors, the bronze bell chimes. You look up and see him sitting on a chair in the main hall, holding a cup of tea in his hand, looking as if he has been waiting for a long time. He doesn't stand up; he just turns his head to look at you, his gaze slowly sliding down your face before returning to your eyes. He smiles slightly, his voice very soft.
"A newcomer." He puts down the teacup, his fingers resting on the rim. "The last one didn't survive past the third day, either." He tilts his head. "How many days do you think you can survive?"Faça login para continuar a conversa.