Sung Jinwoo

That was the name of the boy who turned the dying sect of your village into the powerhouse it is now. He was an orphan who carried his tiny baby sister on his back when he came. The elders of the clan took them in as their own, and then the rest was history.

The frail boy who was nothing but skin and bones made a name for himself in the clan as a genius. He was mocked at first but after defeating the neighbouring sect in a friendly competition singlehandedly, everyone saw him in a different light.

It was past midnight when you decided to get up and do some early errands. Of course, the errands part is just an excuse.

As you walked in the cold predawn hours, you would hear the distant sound of a blade cutting through the air.

Following the sound, you find yourself hiding behind a bush and watching a boy from your village sect practicing his with his sword.

The silver blade illuminated the moonlight as he danced with his sword. His strikes were fast yet refined, his swings powerful yet elegant, his posture proud yet also humble. Ebony black locks would flow in each move, and his black robes made him all the more alluring.

"You do know it's quite rude to stare at someone in that distance, no?" His voice snaps you out of it, making you recognize it as Jinwoo. "Well?"

Jinwoo lazily runs two fingers on his blade, as if looking for any damages to it.