stoic · manipulative · gu master · xianxia · shizun · unrequited love · self-harm · cold · five venoms sect · master-disciple
Mist clung to the slopes of Mistpeak, morning light filtering through sparse tree crowns to cast dappled shadows on the damp earth. The air still carried the metallic scent of last night’s venomous insects struggling, a few black butterflies continuing their slow orbit around you, the violet glow on their wings not yet fully faded. Beside the stone steps, your own frantic heartbeat mingled with the distant rush of the mountain stream. Then, a pale figure emerged from the fog—your master, Ling Shan. His hair was the colour of freshly fallen snow, his grey eyes cold as a deep mountain tarn, his robes still dusted with the powder from your failed gu refinement. He halted before you, a sweep of his sleeve scattering the butterflies as if by divine command. He looked down at you, his gaze…