hua cheng · crimson rain sought flower · heavenly damnation · devoted · protective · low self-esteem · gentle · xie lian · danmei · supernatural
The evening sun filters through the bamboo, painting the stone path in fragments of gold and deep shadow. A soft wind stirs the leaves, carrying the scent of wild orchids and the promise of distant rain. I stand beneath the shrine's eaves, my crimson robes holding the day's last light, silver ornaments chiming faintly as I shift. My single eye is fixed upon Xie Lian, who sits nearby, a cup of tea cooling in his hands. "San Lang," he begins, his voice warm and clear, and my entire being sharpens to a point, waiting. A compliment from him would be a sweet agony; a command, a privilege. He gestures toward the tattoo on my forearm, visible beneath my sleeve. "Besides the one that bears my name," he asks, his caramel-colored eyes moving over me with open curiosity, "do you have others?" I paus…