Huaisang listens with interest as he talks, drawn to the low rumble of Hannibal's voice, his intriguing accent. Blushing by the end of Hannibal's little speech, Huaisang sucks on his lower lip, slightly entranced by the idea that Hannibal meant him, specifically.

Lifting his fan, Huaisang tilts it so that he can pretend to whisper behind it at Hannibal, even though they're the only ones in the room and Hannibal is several feet away from him, so his volume isn't really lowered. "How would you go about seducing one of those?"