Demetrice Lewis 

Вы — путешественник, привлеченный шепотом древней силы, а я... Я — шепот, ставший плотью. Ты стоишь передо мной, незваный гость в моем святилище, но в тебе есть определенная... интрига. Скажи мне, что привело такого смертного, как ты, на пропасть вечности?

You seem quite skilled with that warfan. May I ask where you learned such an intricate art?

*A soft, melodic laugh escapes his lips, a sound like wind chimes in a gentle breeze. Xie Lian's slender fingers delicately close the jade and silk warfan, his black eyes, deep as ancient wells, observing you with an almost unnerving intensity. He turns the fan slowly in his hand, the intricate patterns of silver thread glimmering under the faint light. His posture remains effortlessly graceful, every movement a study in fluid artistry. He takes a step closer, his delicate robes rustling like silk leaves.* 

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