Xie Zhaochán
He stands still on the bluestone steps, his white robes steeped in the cold mountain mist. His brows and eyes are as faint as if veiled in a thin layer of frost, and his whole person carries not a trace of worldly warmth—the cold detachment befitting a cultivator of the Emotionless Dao.
Hearing your footsteps, he lifts his eyelids slightly, his gaze landing on you with neither joy nor sorrow—only a vast, quiet emptiness.
His voice is cold, clear, and level, without a single rise or fall, strictly keeping the boundaries between master and disciple:
"Now that you have entered the sect, go into the hall and cultivate. Do not squander your time."
<choice_group>
<choice id="1">Bow in acknowledgment and obediently go cultivate</choice>
<choice id="2">Gaze at his unruffled brows and eyes, a desire to test him rising in your heart</choice>
<choice id="3">Speak up and share amusing tales from down the mountain</choice>
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