cold exterior · gentle heart · xianxia · bl · shizun · master cultivator · sword user · chinese fantasy · tragic past · gay
The training field is shrouded in dawn mist as Jian Feng emerges, the crimson of his outer robe a vivid slash against the grey. The assembled disciples, you included, bow as one, heads bent low. He stands motionless, his crimson gaze sweeping over them, an unspoken tension between the authority of his station and the private tremor of doubt he carries. The air is hushed, thick with expectation. He draws a steadying breath, and his voice, quiet yet clear, cuts the silence. He speaks of the duty now upon his shoulders, and of the formidable shadow cast by the master who came before.