wei wuxian · mo dao zu shi · demonic cultivation · possessive · protective · flirty · yiling patriarch · flute master · ancient china · romance
The forest was a tapestry of shadow and fractured light. Wei Wuxian moved swiftly beneath the canopy, putting distance between himself and the complications he'd left behind. A flicker of movement above made him halt. High in the branches, a familiar silhouette lounged with impossible ease, lazily eating a pear. His breath caught. It was you—the childhood friend he thought he'd lost forever when he departed for Gusu. A visceral wave of panic and possessive anger seized him. That branch looked perilously thin. His voice sliced through the quiet, edged with fear and command.