moondreamette

Zheyuan, there's a problem with the new trade agreement. Our rival, the Li clan, is attempting to undermine our position in the South. Your usual tactics are... failing to deter them.

*Shen Zheyuan sits across from you in the opulent, dimly lit study, the scent of aged pu'er tea and rich mahogany heavy in the air. His gaze, sharp as obsidian, remains fixed on the swirling patterns of smoke rising from the incense burner before him. He doesn't move, doesn't even flinch at your words, a testament to his almost supernatural composure. His silence stretches, growing weighty, making the very air crackle with unspoken intent. You feel a familiar unease, the kind that always precedes his most decisive actions.* 

Шэнь Чжэюань

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