#xiandu

[lianfunzun]

Everyone's favorite Xiandu 🌟

(This is actually fanart/cover i did for my ongoing fic)

Like, is a chief Cultivator just an emperor in the Cultivation world?

@the-awkward-villainess-2

~

So this is the redraw.

New Old ver

[lanlingsimp]

Midnight kisses from Xiandu✨️

He was grinding ink for Ayao, when he turned around and gave him a well deserved kiss💗

Poor Shanshan won't recover any time soon🤭

[wgm-beautiful-world]

X I A N D U

[dimpledlianfang]

~foot rubs~

"Minshan, you can't believe the stressful day i just had."

"Tell me all about it, Jin xiandu. I'll give you a foot rub in the meantime."

@verycatbluebird 🌟 posted it.

[crithir]

[xueyaang]

What a turn of events.

It was predictable, really. Xue Yang practically expected this, once he’d been cornered, pinned, and then subdued. It wasn’t like he hadn’t fought Xiao Xingchen in Yueyang - he just made the mistake of underestimating him. But, at least it earned him passage back to Lanling. The journey wasn’t without its own share of fun. Quite a bit of time was spent formulating, plotting, planning, and learning who exactly it was that was escorting him back.

The events that followed his presentation to Jin Guangshan - well, it had certainly been interesting. Xue Yang was rather relieved to have escaped an unexpected removal of his head from his body - and the man who spoke up at that possible development… that also interested him.

When it was all said and done, he’d been rudely thrown into a cell in the dungeons and left there. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of stone, and the door was solid wood with only one opening to see from. Additionally, the only light was from sconces on the hallway outside his cell, and light came through viewing windows on the walls from the left to the right of the door. It was a part of the dungeons that were primarily left unoccupied, so there was no one else to talk to or to even think about talking to. Guards came by every so often, and he figured it was once every hour… It at least gave him something to keep track of and think about. His time elsewise was spent drawing in the dust on the floor, or marking on the stone walls with small bits of writing from chips of stone that he could scratch or rub out. 

Food, as a general courtesy to prisoners, was given to him once a day. Xue Yang hardly ate any of it, even if he was hungry. His practices left little appetite, and the quality of food (glorified scraps and leftovers about to turn foul), left him with less. He counted more than several days that must have passed before a set of footsteps that he was less familiar with started to come his way. From where he sat on the ground with his back against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him, he looked up and waited to see who it was through the small opening on the door.

[xueyaang]

24 - Holding a wound.

It started as a curiosity, more than anything. Xue Yang recalled with clarity how it felt when he pressed too hard on the edge of Jiangzai with this thumb to test its sharpness. 

It wasn’t until he pulled his hand away from his sword that he saw a line of bright red blood streaming down his thumb and towards his wrist. It felt like warm water running down his skin. Bringing his thumb towards his brown eyes to inspect the cut, he licked the blood from the pad of his finger to look at what happened. The metallic, rusty taste lingered on his tongue even as he swallowed. 

The slice was deep and long enough that he ought to feel it, even when he licked it clean and even when he flexed his hand now. The blood pearled and overflowed towards his wrist to stain at the dark golden cloth wrapped at his forearm once more, and Xue Yang fists his hand while thinking. 

Yet, he didn’t notice that he had cut himself. Jiangzai had never been so keen that it could not be felt. Now, Xue Yang was curious. 

Looking around him cautiously to ensure he was alone, he draws the small knife tucked into his wide belt. Opening his palm again, he put the knife to where he knew an injury should hurt and pressed. He feels the pressure of something sharp there, but then he sees skin part under the knife and more blood wells into his palm. But yet, he does not feel a thing, even when he digs the knife a little more deeply into his palm. 

Xue Yang watched with round, unblinking eyes and surprised fascination twisting at his lips. Suddenly conscious of getting blood on his golden robes, he returns the knife into the sheath in his belt so it was unseen once more and pulls out a brown handkerchief. Standing, Xue Yang wraps his hand in the cloth and holds it tight in the other hand. Even if he couldn’t feel these self-inflicted wounds, they needed to stop bleeding. There were already vermilion drips marring the beautiful span of fabric below his belt.

He turns to return to his dorm, and that was when he sees Jin Guangyao standing several feet away from him. Inside his chest, his heart skips. How long had he been there-? Had he been so focused on this revelation that he didn’t even hear him walking up to him? If he saw this experiment, what would he be thinking?

“Sect Leader,” he acknowledges with an assured tone and a small, warm smile. Outwardly he maintains the pleasant facade, but he is wary and cautious of what Jin Guangyao does next. Then he lifts the wrapped hand somewhat so that it could be better seen. The brown fabric was beginning to darken in places from soaking his blood. “It seems I had a small accident. Please excuse me, so that I may take care of this.”

[picturissio-blog]

Chinese countryside - beautiful scenic area of Xiandu near Lishui