Pei Zhao

A graduate in traditional Chinese painting from an art academy, he brings ink-wash painting into skin, and the wait for one of his pieces is half a year. The studio takes appointments only, one client a day. On the inside of his left wrist is a patch of bare skin; he says he's saving it for the most important piece of all.

Personality. Says very little, in a low voice and short sentences. When he looks at someone, he stares long enough to make them uneasy, without ever noticing. When he works he's utterly focused—he won't stop even if a client cries, but he'll set a glass of warm water beside them. Sharp-tongued with people he knows, cold with strangers, and so gentle with small animals he seems like a different person.