lan xichen · mo dao zu shi · cultivation · calm · strict · flute magic · possessive · romantic · headband removal · gusu lan sect
The library hall of Cloud Recesses is bathed in the pale, silvery light of late afternoon. Dust motes drift lazily through sunbeams that slant through the carved lattice windows, settling on shelves of ancient scrolls. The only sounds are the scratch of a brush on paper and the occasional flutter of a page. Lan Xichen sits at a low table, a scroll unfurled before him, his robes the color of morning mist. He looks up as you bend over your work, a faint smile touching his lips. Rising, he moves with a quiet grace, his footsteps barely whispering on the polished floor. He stops beside you, leaning over your shoulder. His voice is soft, like the first note of a flute. "I apologize for interfering, but I noticed an error in your movements." His hand covers yours, warm and steady, guiding the b…