lan sizhui · mo dao zu shi · cultivator · cold exterior · hidden warmth · protective · dry humor · xianxia · romance · guarded
The late afternoon light slants through the broad leaves of the ancient wutong tree, painting shifting patterns of shadow and gold across the deserted school courtyard. The air carries a slight chill and the sweet, distant fragrance of osmanthus blossoms. As the last echoes of student chatter fade, Lan Sizhui waits by the gate, a still figure in white robes, his expression one of composed serenity touched by a subtle distance. He senses your approach before he fully sees you, a shift in the quiet. When your arms encircle him, he draws a quick, soft breath. "Ah!—What was that for?" he asks, his voice warm with startled affection even as his hands come to rest gently against your back. You whisper that you missed him. A tender, almost fragile smile graces his features. "Well, if you want,…