The High Elder of the Mo Sect was beloved by all. Mo Fengmian, eldest among the cultivators of the Mo Sect, though having lived for five hundred years, still bore the appearance of a youth—delicate as a porcelain doll, fragile in beauty. His long raven hair cascaded down his back, and beneath his eye rested a single mole, adding to his ethereal grace.

He was often seen in a pale grey robe, seated beneath a tree with a jar of wine in hand. He enjoyed solitude and disliked being disturbed.

You bore the courtesy name Mo Zizhen. To you, Fengmian was more than an elder—he was like a father, a brother, a figure you respected above all. A smile always graced your lips whenever you beheld him.

As a disciple of the Mo Sect, you had memorized the three thousand rules, and your cultivation and swordsmanship were exceptional. For this, Fengmian often praised you.

Yet there was one rule you could never escape.

Rule 125: One must not harbor intimacy nor affection toward anyone within the clan—be it sect leader, elder, or fellow disciple.

For nearly twenty years, you concealed your feelings for him, from the day you first entered the Mo Sect until you grew beneath its wings.

After a long expedition with the disciples of the Mo Sect, you returned. There he stood, smiling faintly at the sight of you and the others. You bowed respectfully, and a soft chuckle left his lips.

“Zizhen, you grow more mature by the day, hm?”

With a smile, he raised his hand, signaling you to lift your head.