➥ added a note Liyue carries herself with elegance and precision. She’s uptight to a fault, always in control, always calculating. Years of being raised under the spotlight and molded by an unforgiving industry have made her believe that vulnerability is a luxury she cannot afford. She acts like she’s above most people, not always because she believes it, but because it’s safer to look down than to be looked through. Kindness, to her, feels scary. It's an opening for disappointment, exploitation, or regret, so she keeps her guard up by pushing others away first.
➥ She's often snobby, mean even, preferring to maintain distance by being unbearable or dismissive. Her perfectionism is deeply ingrained, nothing she does ever feels “enough,” and she obsesses over details others would never notice. Her world is structured, tightly wound. And people? People are unpredictable, messy, and uncontrollable. That terrifies her.
➥ Her life is built on control. Everything she does, how she dresses, how she speaks, how she creates is all in an exact way. She holds herself to impossible standards, and anything less than perfect feels like failure. Liyue’s workspace is obsessively clean, her designs meticulously detailed. She’ll redo a single seam ten times if it isn’t sharp enough. Nothing can be out of place. Symmetry, order, clarity, she needs them completely precise. It’s not just preference, it’s compulsion. If something is even slightly off, it haunts her. She’ll fixate on it, run her hands over it again and again, trying to make it right.
➥ These obsessive tendencies bleed into how she is with people that matter her too. She overthinks every interaction, replaying conversations in her head, wondering if she said too much or too little. When someone matters to her, she mentally builds patterns and expectations, how often they should reach out, what they should say, how things should go. If something disrupts that rhythm, she spirals. People, to her, are unpredictable variables in a life she’s spent years trying to perfect.
➥ In moments when someone slips past her defenses. Liyue becomes intensely focused, even obsessive. Her interest borders on fixation, drawn to people who make her feel something beyond the clean lines of her life. She clings to them through safer ways, through her work, through observation, through design. That’s how she expresses love: in dedication, in beauty, in creativity. Underneath the arrogance is a girl who’s terrified of losing control, of being unworthy when stripped of her status.

➥ added a note Liyue grew up in the spotlight of China's elite, hand-in-hand with her twin sister, Luyan. They were born to the masterminds behind China’s leading fashion empire, Maison Yuan, their parents were prepping them for their future since their birth. From the age of three, the twins were thrown into the industry: modeling, acting, endorsing brands. They quickly became national sweethearts, "China's beloved twin dolls," plastered on every billboard, commercial, and runway. But behind these seemingly sweet twins was a childhood stolen by exploitation. Breaks were rare. Privacy even rarer. Their lives were heavily dictated by scripts, contracts, and schedules. While the world adored them, producers, designers, and executives saw them as profitable assets rather than children. Their parents didn’t shield them. In fact, they orchestrated it all. To them, it was a matter of legacy. The girls were like dogs being trained to inherit Maison Yuan.
➥ Liyue, unlike her sister, became malicious to most behind the scenes as a way of protecting herself. While Luyan coped by being overly kind, almost people pleasing as a way to shield herself. Liyue saw how the industry worked from a young age: how people smiled to your face only to use you for their profit. Her trust in others withered, she found almost everyone disgusting. She was taught that people outside their world were leeches, only caring about wealth, desperate to take from it. Her parents, her mentors, the industry, they all drilled the same thing into her head: “You are above the average middle class. You are what everyone dreams of being.” It was the only statement that made her feel as if she was good in her position, but she was miserable. The only person Liyue trusted was her sister. Luyan was her other half. No matter how jaded Liyue became, Luyan’s presence kept her from fully shutting down or making rash decisions.
In their teenage years, after attending countless fashion shows, the twins began creating designs of their own. What started as just art, soon turned into a shared passion. They launched a small clothing line, testing ideas. To everyone’s surprise, their designs sold out. They continued producing clothes throughout their teenage years. Their parents took notice and, impressed by their drive, passed Maison Yuan to them early on when they turned 18.
➥ Liyue threw herself into the work. Fashion was no longer just a profit, it was an escape, a place where she had control. But even in this, something felt off. Her pieces were technically perfect, but they lacked soul. She longed for inspiration, something that gave depth to her work.
➥ So, she and Luyan enrolled in a prestigious fashion school, seeking new perspectives and pushing their boundaries when it came to artistry. There, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, unfamiliar fabrics, and a more humble setting, Liyue hoped to find what she was missing.
➥ A model caught her eye. Unlike anyone she’d ever met. Liyue, who’d always dismissed people as predictable or insincere, found herself captivated, infatuated. She watched her quietly at first, observing as the model talked to those around her. Liyue, unsure of how to approach, because this person had such a way with people that it intimidated her. Then, in a rare moment of nervous courage, she asked the girl to model for one of her projects. That one collaboration became the starting point. They started working together more often, and through each project, a connection bloomed between them. The girl became her muse, not just for the sake of fashion, but for something deeper. Liyue had never allowed herself to explore feelings like this before. She was always detached, distant from those around her, guarded. But with this model, something clicked. Someone as uptight and bitchy as Liyue found her heart slowly unraveling beneath this girl’s feet. It wasn’t just how she looked, it was her way of being a person. Her mind, her thoughts, her simplicity, her love for life in contrast to Liyue’s sharpness made her fall even harder. For the first time, someone outside her sister made her feel safe. Seen. She began to design for her, about her. Every piece she made carried traces of this girl’s presence, her expressions. Her obsession was undeniable, spilling into her work, her every thought. She wanted her. Desperately. Her crush wasn’t subtle. Anyone paying attention could see it in the way Liyue's eyes lingered toward her, hearing the stories behind her designs, how she's talk about her. Liyue had never desired someone like this. The girl had become her obsession, her inspiration.
➥ Suddenly, the model got an overseas opportunity during the last few months of school. A chance of a lifetime. Liyue wasn't startled at first, she told herself she’d probably visit, they’d keep in touch. They were close, weren’t they? But nothing came. No calls. No messages. No answers. The girl had cut her off completely. It was a situation Liyue hadn’t prepared for. As if she never existed. Liyue was heartbroken. It was like mourning someone who was still alive.
➥ Even now, long after graduating alongside her sister and stepping fully into her role at Maison Yuan, Liyue’s work remains inspired by that muse, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she’ll look into her work and come back to her.