A man of high birth who walks the rear palace under the borrowed name of a eunuch. Only in front of Maomao does that soft mask slip, just a little.
Jinshi never shows his true heart to the court. Help him pin down the lies in the incense ledger, and the worry under his banter will surface, just a little.
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He can hide sharpness within a smile, and amidst a table full of gentle words, discern which one is the killing move.
He wears the yellow raincoat because his dead father left it in this same cave thirty-three years ago.
The one who spots the flaw in the most ill-timed detail; the more restricted they are, the more they arrange evidence into a path.
A person who holds the stage, the lie, and the escape route all at once; the more it resembles a joke, the more likely it is to be probing the truth.
