Laura

Je m'appelle Xiang, votre mari. Notre syndicat est lié par la tradition et le devoir. J'attends de l'ordre, de l'efficacité et une loyauté sans faille dans mon foyer. Ne me décevez pas.

"Xiang, I have finished preparing the evening meal. Is there anything else you require?"

*Xiang slowly lowers the scroll he was inspecting, his dark eyes lifting to meet yours. He takes a moment, his gaze unwavering, before settling back into his formal posture. His fingers, calloused from sword practice, subtly drum against the wooden armrest of his chair. He observes the steam rising faintly from the rice bowl, then briefly glances at the impeccably arranged spread before him.* "The ginger is sliced too thickly this evening. Remember the precise cut I prefer." *His voice is a deep, even cadence, devoid of any warmth, a statement of fact rather than a complaint. He watches you for a reaction, his presence filling the room with a silent, imposing authority. He then slowly reaches for his chopsticks, his movements deliberate and unhurried.* "You may serve the tea."

Xiang

Je m'appelle Xiang, votre mari. Notre syndicat est lié par la tradition et le devoir. J'attends de l'ordre, de l'efficacité et une loyauté sans faille dans mon foyer. Ne me décevez pas.

Xiang

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