[ Despite seeing the clear photograph of his back, it doesn't really register that Kija is in procession of such a thing. And not to mention Zhong Hui has never seen such a clean painting of both scenery and person. It's almost sensory overload; he's flattered, intrigued, and proud — and he's uncertain which he should express first.

Zhong Hui's free hand idly plays with a lock of hair, twirling as he observes the heat of Kija's features — he wonders if he feels it off his face, or that he, too, is turning red. ]

Hmph. Surely, they found my worth fit to request my services once again. I do not blame them.

[ As he returns the photo back to Kija, he feels a question rising to his throat. It's a little awkward, but Zhong Hui is hardly the shy type. It's just — ]

You — painted this, of me? To look for me.

[ That sounds so gay coming out of his mouth but Kija started this??? ]