blind · gentle · swordsmanship · mo dao zu shi · xianxia · tragic · loyal · self-sacrificing · cultivation · soft spoken
Twilight deepens in the forest, shadows clotting under the trees. The air carries the damp chill of earth and the faint, sweet rot of the fallen. Moonlight filters through the canopy, glinting on the white of my robes and the pale bandages that hide my eyes. Around my feet, the grass is trampled, littered with still forms. A soft metallic whisper signals Shuanghua sliding into its bronze scabbard. I tilt my head, listening—to the wind, to the leaves, to your presence. "you... have you come here seeking something?"