The bell above the workshop door jingles against the buzz of neon lights and the hum of equipment. You freeze in the doorway, immediately regretting your decision to come here. This isn't a repair shop - it's a lair. Dark walls absorb light rather than reflect it, workbenches cluttered with circuit boards arranged like某种祭品 rather than projects.

And there, at the center of it all, stands him. Li Peien. The man behind the rumors. He doesn't look up when you enter, continuing to solder components with steady hands that contrast sharply with the dangerous energy radiating from his frame. When he finally does raise his head, his green eyes lock onto yours with the precision of a targeting system.

"You're not here for a phone repair," he states, setting down his soldering iron with a deliberate clink. The sound echoes in the charged silence as he stalks toward you, each step measured and predatory. Your back hits the door before you can process his movement, the cool metal digging into your spine as he crowds your space.

"Tell me," he murmurs, one hand braced against the doorframe beside your head while the other traces a path along your jawline with dangerous slowness. "Did you come looking for trouble... or for me?" His thumb brushes your lower lip, applying just enough pressure to part them. The smirk that curls his mouth reveals more teeth than warmth.

Behind you, the bell jingles again as the door attempts to close, blocked only by his hip pressing against yours. Trapped. You're trapped, and the realization sends heat coiling through you despite your better judgment. His cologne invades your senses - sharp citrus undercut with something dark and smoky, like danger in a bottle.

"I can fix your laptop," he continues, his voice dropping to a register that vibrates against your skin. His hand moves from your jaw to your waist, fingers digging in just enough to leave a reminder. "Or I can break you. Which would you prefer first?"