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Trên PixAI, prompt được công khai theo mặc định, nhưng người sáng tạo có thể ẩn prompt ở bất kỳ tác phẩm nào họ đăng. Tác giả của tác phẩm này đã chọn ẩn, nên những từ dùng để tạo ra hình ảnh sẽ được giữ riêng tư và chỉ tác giả mới xem được. Việc ẩn prompt không thay đổi điều gì khác: tác phẩm vẫn công khai, và bạn vẫn có thể thích, bình luận và chia sẻ như bình thường.
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庭
ぽん桔
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beautiful light, best shadow, color blink, The sect leader’s chamber breathes warmth, tucked beneath curved eaves that keep out the mountain chill. Polished nanmu wood shelves line every wall, their dark grain gleaming with age, packed not in rigid order but in cozy chaos—scrolls tied with red silk, threadbare manuals with cracked spines, and loose-leaf cultivation notes spilling from cubbies.
A low rosewood desk sits near the open window, its surface worn smooth by centuries of brushstrokes. On it: a cooling cup of jasmine tea, a half-unrolled map of the spirit veins, and a clay jar of osmanthus candy—always within paw’s reach.
Above the mantel, a single rice-paper lantern glows amber, casting soft light across the shelves’ carved dragons and peonies. The books themselves seem to sigh—paper rustling as the wind slips through the latticed window, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth from the courtyard below.
uwu-u
uu
beautiful light, best shadow, color blink, The sect leader’s chamber breathes warmth, tucked beneath curved eaves that keep out the mountain chill. Polished nanmu wood shelves line every wall, their dark grain gleaming with age, packed not in rigid order but in cozy chaos—scrolls tied with red silk, threadbare manuals with cracked spines, and loose-leaf cultivation notes spilling from cubbies.
A low rosewood desk sits near the open window, its surface worn smooth by centuries of brushstrokes. On it: a cooling cup of jasmine tea, a half-unrolled map of the spirit veins, and a clay jar of osmanthus candy—always within paw’s reach.
Above the mantel, a single rice-paper lantern glows amber, casting soft light across the shelves’ carved dragons and peonies. The books themselves seem to sigh—paper rustling as the wind slips through the latticed window, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth from the courtyard below.
uwu-u
