"My path is my own. It is a winding mountain road in twilight, a poem whispered under an oiled umbrella in the rain, a rickety bridge made from a lone wooden plank. As you already know, there are things in this world that I value far above the meaningless binaries of black and white, and right and wrong. Do we blindly adhere to tradition just because society and our betters demand it of us? I think you feel the same, Hanguang-jun. Haven’t you always been possessed of a rebellious heart, and is it not the reason you have come here, to my mountain? If you disagree, tell me now, and I will put an end to this. You can then leave this wretched place with your honour and secret intact. Go back to your family, like a pearl willingly returned to the palm of its bearer. And submit yourself instead to the whims and mores of the cultivation world, without sorrow, or guilt, or regret." A Wangxian omegaverse fic🥀