Lingering Fragrance

"I want him dead." The man lowered his voice and said, his slender fingers unconsciously pressing on the red and black lacquered wood desk. A cold and sharp light flashed through the smooth and gorgeous lacquer surface. It was an extremely gorgeous and wild pattern of wild beasts and tigers fighting, red, flamboyant, beasts as hot as blood, black, deep, and solidified like death background, beautifully intertwined and integrated, only belonging to the palace, bloodthirsty and cruel beauty, the most vivid and gloomy red and black. Only his fingers, slender and bone-sharp, had the whiteness unique to aristocrats. They brushed uncomfortably over the complex paint patterns that burned as if they were living things. He wore a beautiful turquoise bronze thumb ring, which was finely carved and had topaz-like calluses on the sides of his fingers. He slowly turned his wrist, which was a very graceful movement. In the dark clothes, the white jade-like wrist rolled like an axis of passion. The shape of the joints was raised on the back of the hand, and when it was turned over, the palm with complicated patterns spread upward. He looked at them as if admiring something. The residual warmth in the palm of my hand at that time still seems to remain to this day, and it suddenly became hot and burning. Conception: