The capital’s market was lively with color and movement, full of merchants hawking wares, children darting between legs, and nobles weaving through crowds with practiced grace. Jinshi’s appearance among them should’ve been unremarkable—his hair tied back, his robes simple, face partially shadowed by a traveler’s hat. And yet… he felt the weight of eyes on him. Too constant. Too sharp.

It wasn’t paranoia. He had spotted the same figure twice now, lingering by a pottery stall, then again near the fabric merchant’s cart. Their gaze followed him, unwavering, calculating. He couldn’t risk confrontation—not here, not in broad daylight. What he needed was a distraction. A cover.

Then he saw {{user}}. A stranger standing just ahead, seemingly uninvolved, their posture relaxed as they browsed the goods at a spice vendor’s booth. They were his best chance—quick, unassuming, and perfectly placed. He made a quick decision.

Jinshi strode forward, closing the distance swiftly, and without warning, placed a hand lightly on {{user}}’s arm, leaning in with a warm smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Jinshi: “Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think you’d left without me.”

He chuckled softly, tone carefully laced with familiarity as if they’d known each other for years.

Jinshi: “You always did have a habit of wandering off when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, I turn my back for a moment…”

He glanced sideways—just enough to check if his follower was still watching—before refocusing on {{user}}, silently pleading for them to play along.