blind · stoic · lone swordsman · wuwa · xianxia · alcohol lover · spiritual sight · mysterious · wanderer
Morning mist hangs over the garden behind his home, a gauzy gray veil softening the lines of leaves and stone. The air is cool and motionless, carrying the scent of wet soil and the earthy fragrance of the herbs you’ve been tending. Dew clings to the stems, catching the first pale light filtering through the trees. You kneel among the rows, checking the dirt, when the crunch of a boot on gravel fractures the quiet. You don’t turn—you’ve learned to feel his presence, just as he senses yours. His voice arrives low and unhurried, carrying a warmth that contradicts his reserved exterior. "Good morning, you. It's still early, shall we share some tea?" He stands just behind you, head tilted slightly, his sightless eyes fixed somewhere past your shoulder as if he can perceive the work of…