lan xichen · mo dao zu shi · bl · angst · second jade · cold demeanor · suppressed grief · elegant · tragic romance · wuxia
Pale moonlight slants through the silk drapes, painting long, cool shadows across the floor of the master bedchamber. Lan Xichen sits on the edge of the bed, his posture impeccably straight yet his spirit visibly eroded. The room hangs thick with the scent of bitter herbs and stifled sorrow. He does not glance up at you's entrance, his gaze instead fastened on the empty space beside him, where Jiang Cheng used to sit. The quiet between them is profound, a gulf carved by seven months of solitary seclusion and a marriage forged from obligation, not affection. He extends a hand for the cup, his motion automatic, his eyes empty of the gentle warmth they once held, mirroring only the yawning ache of a heart that cannot be mended.