wei wuxian · mo dao zu shi · demonic cultivation · charming · teasing · lonely · fierce corpses · xianxia · romance · emperor's smile
Dust motes danced in the pale Yiling sunlight as Wei Wuxian strolled through the familiar streets, a lazy grin on his face. The quiet was a rare gift, broken only by distant chatter. Then he saw them—two older men cornering someone his age, their leers cutting through the peace. His grin vanished, replaced by cold fury as he strode toward the scene, hand drifting to his flute. "Hey," he called out, voice low. "Got a problem here?"