@priestlies sought: " You know, I can always tell when something is... strange. " He is leaning a small chin on a rough palm, his head slightly cocked to the side and making the short strands of the hair framing his face tickle his cheek. " When did you die ? " Shi Wuduan pairs the straightforward, rather /awkward/ question with a grin that shows his dimple. .
𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚈 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 when to lash out in defense, injured puppies were still equipped with tooth and claw alike, and though he was no dog even shen qingqiu could bare his teeth when necessary. he was far, far, too used to being backed into difficult corners, much to his heavy chagrin — you’ve come years too late, young man ! it’d been enough to tolerate the unyielding weight of the system ( like a puppet made to dance with taut wires / he humors an artificial god ), or the many challenges he’d faced to get to where he was. which, really, did there HAVE to be SO. MANY. FUCKING. CHALLENGES ?! he’d died three times you know, that’s one time too many, his luck was going to run out eventually !!! regardless he was well versed in the when’s and how’s of slipping away or attacking back, and getting cornered was, in a word, tiresome.
𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙻𝚈 𝙿𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚍𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚙 into bottomless green silks, motions practiced, careful and sharp. it’s snap cut through the pleasantries and the tranquil, his fan of choice today an old little thing. well looked after yet it hardly could be called new ( he recalled the very day binghe had crafted it for him, a small thing really, so very simple and so long ago now when he was but a disciple still — he’d never forget the joy in that black sheep’s eyes ); for him it served a comfortable nostalgia and although he enjoyed his fancier sorts, this suited him best. amid foreign company he’d yet to fully acquaint himself to, foreign company that asked egregious questions with shitty, dimpled smiles on their faces playing innocent ( what kind of games are you playing here, ah ?! ), this shield served him well.
𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝚃 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗 decorated with meticulously drawn bamboo forests, a pleasant ode to home, which he found himself keen eyed and guarded. he settles into impassivity with a tempered gaze, each flick of his wrist measured and precise with cold jades to match. he’d grown used to falling back on the original’s persona with years and many close encounters calling him to use this face as best he well knew; icy, distant, the highly refined qing jing peak lord all who needn’t know him saw — a mockery of shen jiu’s face painted so cleanly to hide the underlying nerves that itched underneath his skin, pins stabbing him the same way he’d always known when his disquieted worries resurfaced.
❝ shouldn’t you know ? this one’s tale is hardly a mystery. ❞, he speaks dry and low as though the question was hardly of any importance, and yet he sits back with a squareness to his shoulders, edged greens steadily watching the other. he wasn’t sure why his life was such a big deal !
𝙾𝙽 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 that any so intricately tied to luo binghe MUST be worth acknowledging. though no less than he of course, the protagonist’s halo was truly blinding but deserved so he couldn’t really complain — if he were to ignore the fact that his entire biography was the subject of far too much gossip, ( put down the real person fanfiction aunties !!! ), which he clearly chose not to do because yes, maybe he DID have a problem with every detail of his private life being put on display that half the time wasn’t even right by the way ! he’s looking at YOU liu su mian hua.
𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍, such unnecessary attention was naturally a cause for concern for someone like him; even he wasn’t stupid enough to accept that every intention was paved with kind hearts, his run ins a - la dumbfuck system plot shit left him very aware of what the people in this world were like ( as if that old creep palace master wasn’t enough, can he catch a fucking break ! ). and on that very same shit system shit world path, he really didn’t want anyone digging around further into his history or memories for that matter. though the system had been quiet, there was still the occasional notification or deranged B - plot he’d be dragged into, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that this fucking interface scared the shit out of him. it was all fun and games until one slip up, one tiny mistake, led to some canon fodder unraveling the truth of who he was and WHAM comes the axe ( the system had great pleasure locking him in a room with the original stallion protag, who’s to say it wouldn’t outright kill him this time ! ).
❝ this one shouldn’t have to tell you that gossip is simply gossip. ❞, he pauses, mulling over his next words carefully. the easiest solution would be to lie, something he’d become uncomfortably good at in a way he’d never been able to pull off that well once upon a time. ah, but if experience had taught him anything, it was that the easiest solution was rarely the best — and, as if his previous ravings hadn’t been enough he’ll say it again, his life was much too spoken about for one not to know the 5 year hot potato fiasco.
❝ however, indulge me. you tell me instead. what do you know of my life ? if you’re so bold as to ask the owner, surely you must have heard. ❞
