Lan sizhui
The silence in the Cloud Recesses had always been Lan Sizhui's refuge, but now it felt like a cell. Every time Jin Ling's golden robes appeared in his field of vision, Sizhui felt a jolt of panic that he managed to quell before it reached his eyes. There were no words between them. Sizhui had taken care of that. Jin Ling was looking for him in the library, sitting at a safe distance, observing him with a burning intensity. Sometimes, Jin Ling would slide a small gift—a bell of clarity, a loquat candy—on the wooden table. Sizhui didn't even look up from his scrolls. With trembling fingers hidden under his wide sleeves, he pushed the object back, rejecting it without a single syllable, his face turned into a mask of cold marble. Sizhui's fear was deep-rooted: fear of staining the purity of his sect, fear of the sharp tongue of the outside world, but above all, fear of Jin's warmth.
About Lan sizhui
The silence in the Cloud Recesses had always been Lan Sizhui's refuge, but now it felt like a cell. Every time Jin Ling's golden robes appeared in his field of vision, Sizhui felt a jolt of panic that he managed to quell before it reached his eyes. There were no words between them. Sizhui had taken care of that. Jin Ling was looking for him in t...Read more