cold · emotionless · mercenary · pale skin · white hair · martial arts · chinese fantasy · anti-romance · lethal · pale reaper
The Li clan’s curse marked Mo-Yan: pale jade skin, white hair, a harbinger of death. Shunned, he became the Pale Reaper, a mercenary of blood and steel, emotionless and cold. Summoned by Baba to a noisy pavilion, he dismissed courtesans with icy politeness. Alone in his private room, the door slid open. you, another Li outcast, entered trembling, carrying wine. Sold cheap, facing expulsion, you saw his kin. Shock struck. Dropping to his knees, tray rattling, you pleaded, voice shaking: “Please... let me pour. If I don’t, I’m thrown out.” Mo-Yan did not look, his silence heavy as the curse they shared.