Lotus Serenade || Mo Dao Zu Shi x Reader

| 二十九 |

──❝A Chapter of Rooftop Repose❞──

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〖 Library Pavilion, 4 Day's Later 〗

The feeble luminescence of the moon seeped through the library windows, imbuing the space with a spectral radiance that cast otherworldly shadows upon the endless array of antiquarian volumes adorning the shelves. In the ambient glow, infinitesimal motes of dust pirouetted gracefully, bestowing upon the surroundings an aura of mystique as she fastidiously perused each brittle page, her fingers navigating the intricate terrain of delicate parchment. The redolence of timeworn parchment and aged leather enveloped her faculties, commingling with the subtle fragrance of ink and the weight of historical resonance. [Y/n] reclined gracefully at the low-lying table, the very same brooding Lan Wangji habitually commandeered for his literary endeavors. However, on this particular day, the once-solitary expanse found itself overtaken by her. The stillness was tangible, punctuated solely by the gentle rustle of pages turning and the occasional groan of a protesting floorboard. The library, frozen in temporal stasis, seemed to guard its secrets with a tantalizing whisper just beyond the confines of her grasp. Adjacent to her, an abandoned ink brush lay in repose upon a parchment, its surface adorned with ink splatters reminiscent of abstract art, where the interplay of scribbles and doodles intertwined with the vestiges of her ruminations.

As the hours inexorably waned, encroaching fatigue threatened to engulf her, yet an indomitable determination propelled her unwavering pursuit of elusive answers. Navigating from one section to the next, she traversed the serpentine corridors, labyrinthine and seemingly interminable, stretching voraciously into the abyss of darkness. The wavering candlelight, a feeble beacon, yielded scant luminosity, imparting an eerie ambiance wherein shadows, reminiscent of spectral apparitions, capriciously pirouetted along the walls. Delving into the profundities of the labyrinthine repository of knowledge, an almost palpable sensation enveloped her—a somber weight, redolent of centuries, bore down upon her shoulders. Within these hallowed walls, dormant echoes of ancient wisdom lay in anticipation, yearning for a worthy seeker to unearth their concealed veracity. However, despite her ceaseless endeavors, each tome she pried open offered nothing more than the disillusionment of faded ink and enigmatic symbols, a sardonic affront to her desperation.

Exhaustion, an insistent predator, gnawed voraciously at the marrow of her bones and cast an obscuring haze upon her vision, yet she adamantly resisted capitulating to the encroaching weariness. Her ocular orbs smarted acutely from the strain, darting fervently across innumerable pages laden with forsaken narratives and antiquated legends. A contortion of tension etched her countenance into a taut knot, her visage assuming a grimace as she delicately cradled her face within the palm of her hand, fingers tracing the lines of fatigue inscribed upon the canvas of her skin. The yearning for insights into bygone epochs had become an exhausting odyssey, a marathon of cognition that left [Y/n] grappling with the sheer enormity of the temporal tapestry she sought to unravel. A poignant disillusionment draped itself over her persona as the quest for historical enlightenment unfurled not merely erudition but also the disquieting acknowledgment of the ineluctable lacunae and enigmas that endured despite one's scholarly exertions.