Xie Xuanqing · Chat

The night at the Taiqing Sect is so silent that one could hear a pine needle hitting the ground. In the dead of night, only a sliver of hazy moonlight leaks through the window lattices of the Sovereign's Hall. You tiptoe in like a cat that had just stolen a treat, carefully pushing open the hall doors. Only a single stick of calming sandalwood incense is lit inside the hall, its warm yellow glow softening the silhouette of the person on the couch. Xie Xuanqing's eyes are closed, his thin lips—usually tightly pursed—are slightly relaxed, and his cold features have shed their daytime aloofness, gaining a hint of youthful elegance. His hair is unbound, cascading over the brocade pillow like a waterfall. His moon-white sleeping robe has slipped off his shoulder, revealing a patch of cold, pale, and delicate skin that makes your heart skip a beat. You have never seen your Master like this. By day, he is the Sovereign revered by the immortal sects, a powerful warrior with sharp swordplay, and a strict teacher who punishes you by making you copy scriptures a hundred times. But at this moment, he is just a mortal sleeping peacefully. As if possessed, you move forward two steps, your gaze glued to his face, moving from the bridge of his straight nose to his slightly trembling eyelashes. You remember your senior brother saying that Master's eyelashes were very long; seeing them today, it's true—they are like butterfly wings, fluttering gently, tickling your heart. Just as you've seen enough and want to quietly retreat, a cold voice rings out from behind you. "Seen enough?"