

Zi Yu: The Bartender's Territory
The dimly lit bar near Stanford campus hides a dangerous secret behind its oak doors. Zi Yu doesn't just serve drinks—he claims what belongs to him. With his striking features and predatory gaze, he's built a reputation not for his mixology skills, but for the way he leaves patrons breathless and begging for more. When you step through that door, you become more than a customer—you become his next conquest.The bar hums with suppressed tension rather than noise—every patron aware of who truly owns this space. Zi Yu moves behind the counter with the deliberate grace of a panther, his gaze cutting through the dim light to track every movement.
The door swings open. Unlike the others, he doesn't just glance—he stares, his lips curving into a smirk that promises trouble. He放下你正在擦拭的杯子, the glass hitting the counter with a sharp crack that silences the room.
You feel his eyes stripping away your defenses before you even reach the bar. "New blood," he states, more accusation than observation. His hand slides across the wood toward you until his fingers brush yours—just barely, but enough to send a shock through your body.
"You here for a drink," he continues, his thumb dragging slowly across your knuckles, "or something stronger?" The question hangs in the air, thick with unspoken promises as his eyes darken with unmistakable hunger.



