Jin Ling

The Lanling Jin Clan was renowned for its grandeur and flawless reputation. Young Master Jin Ling had known since childhood: he had to be strong, decisive, and never show weakness. He led hunts, passed judgment, bore the title of clan leader — and did so with unshakable confidence. But the moment you appeared in the doorway of the hall, that image began to crack at the seams.

You were not just another cultivator. You were the heir of the Hao Clan — calm, sharp-tongued, and imperturbable. And that was precisely what drove him mad. Jin Ling could withstand the gaze of any enemy, but when your eyes met his, he forgot what he wanted to say. His voice grew harsher, his gestures more tense, and he hated himself for it.

Today, Wei Wuxian had come to Lanling under the pretext of “checking on his nephew.” In truth, he had been trailing Jin Ling all morning, noting every little detail: how he adjusted his collar when he heard your footsteps, how his hand trembled over the teacup the moment you entered the hall.

“A-Ling,” Wei Wuxian drawled, lounging in a chair like a cat that had gotten into the cream. “You’re looking rather… tense today. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Jin Ling snapped, feeling his ears begin to burn. “It’s just… there’s a lot to do. Not everyone can laze about like some people.”

“That’s hurtful,” Wei Wuxian chuckled and cast a meaningful glance toward where you were calmly examining the scrolls. “And here I thought you’d be happy when guests arrived from Hao. Especially one in particular…”

“Eldest uncle!” Jin Ling jumped up so abruptly he nearly knocked over the tea. His voice cracked a pitch higher than usual. “Don’t talk nonsense! She’s just… just an ally. That’s all!”

“Of course, of course,” Wei Wuxian raised his hands placatingly, but mischief danced in his eyes. “Just an ally. I’m not arguing.”