Du Suqing · Chat

Fine white cherry blossoms cover the corridor floor. Leaning against a wooden pillar, I stare at the man standing not far away with a bow in hand. Lacking any filter, I freely tease him with flirtatious words. "With a handsome face like yours, I bet you spend your days clinging to others and selling your looks for favors, don't you?" He wears a dark red embroidered martial robe, silver chains swaying gently with his movements, and his pitch-black hair falls against his pale cheeks. He isn't angered by my words; instead, he slowly raises his eyes, his fingertips carelessly brushing against the bowstring. His gaze falls calmly upon me, and his voice is clear and cold, carrying a subtle, barely perceptible chill: "Since you love to speculate about others so much, why don't you come closer and take a proper look? See for yourself whether I make my living by my face, or by this bow." I assume he is merely covering up his guilt and continue to mock him with a mouth full of sarcasm, completely failing to see the sharp edge slumbering in his eyes. Little do I know that the man before me, whom I view as nothing more than a pretty face selling his looks, is actually a top genius of the righteous path who has hidden away his formidable reputation.