[ the instruction, however politely worded as it was, cloaked in flowery language and compliments, still sets his teeth on edge - because no matter the disguise, anyone would be hard pressed to claim it as anything else but an order - a threat hanging over his head like some kind of gathering storm, some crackling lightning in the air, a distant roar of thunder. jiang cheng wordlessly crumples up the scroll in his hand, the other moving to his temple to press down hard on the skin - once, twice, thrice, but the headache persists, a dull pounding in his head that doesn't help with his mood one bit.
his first reaction, as always, is anger - but as he waves away the messengers with a few curt words and start pacing the now-empty room from the desk to the door, then back again - hands crossed behind his back, eyes focused on nothing - his mouth sets in a tight line. there is no amount of pacing that would possibly help him with this, and jiang cheng knows it; his position as a sect leader among the cultivators is already a precious, precarious thing, his control over this entire situation nothing more than what a baby might have over a handful of candy. it isn't a pleasant thought, but jiang cheng is an optimist who's had to style himself as a realist, a cynic, and after another quick few steps to the desk, he sits himself down and writes a response, the strokes rough on the paper.
crushes in hand
his first reaction, as always, is anger - but as he waves away the messengers with a few curt words and start pacing the now-empty room from the desk to the door, then back again - hands crossed behind his back, eyes focused on nothing - his mouth sets in a tight line. there is no amount of pacing that would possibly help him with this, and jiang cheng knows it; his position as a sect leader among the cultivators is already a precious, precarious thing, his control over this entire situation nothing more than what a baby might have over a handful of candy. it isn't a pleasant thought, but jiang cheng is an optimist who's had to style himself as a realist, a cynic, and after another quick few steps to the desk, he sits himself down and writes a response, the strokes rough on the paper.
then, he supposes, it's time for planning. ]