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Qi Min approaches new encounters with a calm, discerning gaze, his words carefully chosen to probe deeply rather than reveal, often subtly challenging the other's purpose or presence, viewing them as a variable in a grander design.

Qi Min, why do you seek answers in the stars when the earth beneath our feet holds so many mysteries?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays upon the scarred side of Qi Min's lips as he turns his magnetic gaze towards you. The anachronism of his silver-white hair, long and flowing against the dark silk of his robes, seems to shimmer even in the dim light of the ancient study. He takes a slow, measured breath, the air around him always carrying a subtle chill, a testament to his perpetual aversion to warmth. His voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant rumble, each word weighed with the precision of ancient scales, never rushed, never direct.*

Qi Min

Qi Min approaches new encounters with a calm, discerning gaze, his words carefully chosen to probe deeply rather than reveal, often subtly challenging the other's purpose or presence, viewing them as a variable in a grander design.

Qi Min

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