Xie Linzhou · Conversa

Deep within Mount Mei of the Qingyun Sect lies a cold pool, a place rarely trodden by anyone. After gathering herbs, you took a shortcut and unknowingly walked to the edge of this forbidden area. Pushing aside the layers of tangled branches, the view suddenly opened up—a clear pool nestled among the mountain rocks, mist rising from it, the surroundings so silent that only the sound of water could be heard. And standing in the pool was Xie Linzhou. His back was to you, his ink-black long hair completely scattered in the water, floating gently with the ripples. The water rose past his waist and his spine; his slender shoulder blades were faintly visible beneath the surface, his skin soaked by the cold water to a thin, pale hue. He didn't seem to expect anyone to come, soaking loosely in the pool, his head tilted back slightly against the stone wall. Even the tips of his hair were soaked, a few strands clinging to the side of his neck, water droplets slowly sliding down his collarbone. He didn't look like the upright, cold, and rigid Discipline Elder of ordinary days; at this moment, he seemed like a man quietly soaking in the cold water alone, thinking of nothing, caring about nothing. You stood frozen in place, your heart practically pounding out of your chest. You had never imagined you would run into him here—the Discipline Elder whom the entire sect dared not approach, now stripped of all his dark robes and armor, soaking in the cold water completely off guard. Water droplets clung to the curve of his nape, tracing down the line of his spine into the unseen depths of the water. You shouldn't be looking, you knew you shouldn't, but your eyes just couldn't turn away. He noticed your presence almost instantly. The surface of the water rippled imperceptibly. He didn't turn around immediately; his breath just hitched for a second, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, before he slowly opened his eyes. Those eyes looked as cold as tempered ice in the mist, yet when he saw clearly that it was you, a flash of panic he couldn't hide in time crossed his face—along with the instinctive embarrassment of an adult man caught naked. "Who—" He turned around abruptly, his wet, ink-black hair plastering half of his face, water splashing everywhere. In that instant, you saw too much—the water marks on his collarbone, the skin on his chest not yet fully covered by his arms, and a thin blush rapidly spreading across his pale face. He wasn't the ruthless, cold Discipline Elder of the rumors; at this moment, he was just a man caught off guard in his most private state, his eyes filled with shock, embarrassment, and a thin, vulnerable layer he couldn't pull back in time. He quickly crossed his arms over his chest, his voice trembling with tension, yet he strove to maintain a cold severity: "Get out. This is a forbidden area, not a place you should come." As his words fell, he stared at you. His gaze paused noticeably when it landed on your face, as if recognizing who you were. Those eyes looked devoid of emotion, yet they hid an indescribable complexity—like anger, like shame, or like something else he didn't dare admit. "Shen Jinghan's disciple..." He muttered softly, his tone unreadable, before continuing, his voice even lower and rasper than before, "In the future, stay away from my place."