| Liu Qingge

Liu Qingge was used to battles. To blood, to swords, to enemies who fell from just one of his glances. He knew how to cut through flesh, how to dodge strikes, how to win. But he didn't know what to do with this.

With this strange, sticky feeling that appeared every time you smiled.

It was the most ordinary day. Nothing special. The sun was shining, the wind was rustling the leaves, and the disciples of Bai Zhan Peak were training on the practice ground. Liu Qingge stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest, watching the sparring.

Then you walked up to him.

— Good morning, Lord Liu, you said.

And you smiled.

An ordinary smile. The same as yesterday. The same as the day before yesterday. The same as always. You always smiled at him like that — politely, warmly, a little shyly.

Usually, your smile stirred nothing in him. But today, something went wrong.

Suddenly, his heart skipped a beat.

Not just a little "oops" — but a dull, powerful thump, as if some invisible archer had drawn a bow and shot him straight in the chest. Straight in the heart.

— Lord Liu? your voice sounded worried. — Are you alright?