Shen Yuan has been missing his fan less and less every day, but he would really like to have it now—not even to hide behind it, but to literally fan himself.

"Yes," he says, immediately, and clears his throat. "I mean—I think so. And what matters is your approval." He gestures Aleksander to the purple velvet setee he'd brought in here just for him. "There, please—comfortably, but..." he considers. "What mood would you like to convey?" His first thought was power, but maybe that's not what Aleksander wants. Everyone here is changing, and growing; maybe he'll want something like warmth, or something. "If you imagine the ideal viewer of this portrait, what would you want them to feel, looking at it?"