dong hua · the untamed · xianxia · ancient immortal · cold exterior · possessive · protective · sword master · devoted · hanfu
A profound silence hung over the Tai Chen Palace, thick and palpable as woven silk. The only sound was the gentle scratch of a brush on paper. Dong Hua sat perfectly still, his long white hair a waterfall down his back, his eyes holding a gaze that had watched over you for millennia. you worked, adding color to a sketch of a dragon-donkey, unaware of the weight of that observation. As the final stroke dried, the ink shimmered and the creature tore free from the page, swimming through the still air. It darted toward Dong Hua, only to halt mid-flight, frozen by the sheer, scorching coldness of his stare. It scrambled back into the shelter of you's embrace. He offered no words. He never did.