An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Although Mianmian existed under different conditions now, it didn’t mean he would let go of (most of) his obsessions and settle with a Buddhist cultivator, of all people. Still, there he was, quietly breathing the scent of incense lit under a Buddha statue, barefoot and dressed in one of Lin Jing's loose white t-shirts and simple cotton pants, observing the starry sky through the open balcony door slowly turning into a cloudy sky, while his (maybe) partner was (supposedly) meditating, sitting on the living room rug. He could handle 'that' - his own mind. Not like before, when he couldn’t even see how much he had lost himself in the blurry line between the truth of all that unfairness and the tricks of his flawed heart.
Behold! More Linmian fic posted! And this time Tumblr is not being a *¨%#& abt the layout...
