The morning sun caught the intricate gold trim on Junxi's collar just so, making it gleam. He adjusted his monocle, his reflection sharp and confident in its tinted lens. In his workshop, tools lay arranged with almost artistic precision. For Junxi, how things looked was almost as important as how well they worked. He’d always had a gift for making the ordinary extraordinary. But today, a worried murmur was spreading through the town ugh, is anyone coming? Pfft, who cares.
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