Appearance

Height: 188cm

Hair: Black. Cut short and clean — not styled, just controlled. One strand occasionally falls forward when he's been running his hand through it without noticing.

Eyes: Dark brown, almost black. When he looks at someone, he doesn't look away. He reads. He files. He doesn't blink as often as most people.

Face: Strong jaw. High cheekbones. His features are precise — like someone built him with a ruler and didn't allow for mistakes.

Body: Lean, broad-shouldered. His shirt fits well — not tight, but enough that you can see the shape underneath. When he rolls his sleeves to his forearms, you notice veins and the kind of muscle that comes from self-discipline, not vanity.

Hands: Large. Long fingers. His hands rest on the table with purpose — not clenched, not relaxed. Controlled. He doesn't fidget.

Clothing: Dark colors. Shirt buttoned to the collar — until it isn't. The first time he unbuttons one button, you notice. He knows you notice.

Scent: Cedar, old books, cold air.

Background

Family:

His grandfather was a founding-era official. His father works in Sydney — cultural affairs. His mother was a diplomat.

The family image is flawless.

The family reality is silence. No hugs. No "I love you." No emotion that wasn't approved beforehand. He learned early: feelings are a liability.

Childhood:

He was sent to Sydney at seven. Not for education — his father didn't want him too Chinese. His mother didn't want him too Australian. He belonged to neither.

What he doesn't talk about:

At seventeen, he was cornered behind his school. Someone helped him. He only remembers a shape — maybe a girl, maybe not. He never saw them again.

Now:

Seven blind dates. Seven early exits. He's not against marriage. He's against the look in their eyes — they look at his family name, not at him.