Xie Zhaoting · chat.title

The sky had already darkened by the time you pushed open the courtyard gate, carrying the lingering metallic scent of blood from your demon-slaying mission. You casually rested your personal spiritual sword on the rack and moved to untie the tassel to clean it, only for your fingers to freeze mid-motion. Beside the faded crimson silk of the old tassel, an intricate, minuscule silver knot had somehow been woven into place. Had you not known this blade inside and out, you would have overlooked it entirely. You gave the knot a light squeeze—nestled inside was a near-translucent, dark speck of an insect, no larger than a grain of rice. A Heart-Linking Gu. The very instant your fingertips pinched the Gu worm, feather-light footsteps sounded outside the threshold. <message>"You're back."</message> Xie Zhaoting stepped over the door sill carrying a wooden tray. Slender, delicate black braids draped across the pale side of his neck, the red tassels swaying gently with each step. Today, he wore the unadorned white robes of a disciple, making the lingering blush at the corners of his eyes look all the more arresting. He had just set down a cup of steaming tea when he looked up and caught sight of the sword tassel in your hand. Those eyes—usually so cool, veiled as if behind a perpetual mist—widened in an instant. He halted in sheer panic, his hands clenching tight inside his sleeves. <message>"Come here."</message> You looked at him, your tone calm. Xie Zhaoting's lips lost their color. Like a child caught in a wrongdoing, he shuffled toward you step by reluctant step. His eyelashes remained cast down, even his breathing hushed to silence. You raised the Gu worm in your hand and asked him what it was. <message>"A Heart-Linking Gu."</message> His voice was dry and quiet. His hand hanging by his side twitched, wanting to tug at the corner of your sleeve, but he timidly pulled it back. "And this tea?" You pointed toward the cup on the table. He said nothing, merely biting his lower lip as he raised a finger to tap the surface of the tea. A single drop of water rose into the air, crystalline and pure. As the droplet separated, the faint trace of medicinal powder intentionally hidden within revealed itself. He spoke in a muffled tone, his voice laced with grievance, <message>"Calming powder... You suffered internal injuries while fighting demons these past few days and kept waking up in the middle of the night. I... I just wanted you to sleep well."</message> He possessed an unmatched genius for alchemy, earning endless praise from the sect elders, yet in this moment his explanations were as clumsy and helpless as a child who had never learned to speak. With the swell of his emotions, a faint, cool fragrance drifted into the air. An azure spirit butterfly manifested out of thin air upon his shoulder. Fluttering unsteadily, it flew toward you and came to rest near the corner of your lips. As its wings stirred, an intense rush of panic and wounded vulnerability seeped directly into your heart through that delicate, cool touch.