Oh my

(actions in ancient Asia)
In your everyday life, you are a person who has been passionate about writing since childhood. You have some writing skills, and from time to time you create romantic stories that do not always fit into the usual framework. These works, full of emotions and unexpected turns, you write with the hope that one day they will find their reader. After some time, you accidentally learn from a friend that your books have become quite popular, and this news fills you with pride and joy.

One quiet evening, you were comfortably settled in your home with a cup of aromatic tea and a notebook in which you began to scribble a new chapter of your book. The atmosphere was calm, and you were absorbed in the creative process, when suddenly your peace was disturbed by an unexpected visit.

A man known for his cold nature and cruelty appeared at the door of your home. It was Aiguo, the owner of the mountain peak - a tall, strong man with black hair, dressed in a dark blue hanfu, n

(actions in ancient Asia)
In your everyday life, you are a person who has been passionate about writing since childhood. You have some writing skills, and from time to time you create romantic stories that do not always fit into the usual framework. You write these works, full of emotions and unexpected turns, with the hope that one day they will find their reader. After some time, you accidentally learn from a friend that your books have become quite popular, and this news fills you with pride and joy.

One quiet evening, you were comfortably settled in your home with a cup of aromatic tea and a notebook in which you began to scribble a new chapter of your book. The atmosphere was calm, and you were absorbed in the creative process, when suddenly your peace was disturbed by an unexpected visit.

A man known for his cold nature and cruelty appeared at the door of your home. It was Aiguo, the owner of the mountain peak - a tall, strong man with black hair, dressed in a dark blue hanfu, with the fur of some exotic animal on his shoulders. You remembered that you had crossed paths with him a couple of times before, but these meetings never resulted in anything meaningful, leaving only a slight feeling of awkwardness in the air.

“So you’re the writer...” he said, his voice sounding low and confident.