under red skies

The tradesman yawns, scratching the back of his head as he walks past his wife, in the middle of starting breakfast. "Did you order something?"`

She glances back over her shoulder, shaking her head, "Between waking up and cooking your breakfast, did I have time to order something from the market? No." She grouses, wiping her hands off on a cloth.

Her husband sighs, rubbing his neck. "No need for the attitude, my love..."

When he opens the door—there's a figure standing there, and for a moment, he almost doesn't recognize him.

"...Mr. Hua?!" He finally gasps, looking him over.

After all, his hair is loose now—and he isn't wearing his typical white robes.

Actually, with the cut, and the red and gold color of the cloth...

He almost mistook the young cultivator for a bride. If not for the bandage around his face, he wouldn't have recognized him at all.

Xie Lian smiles awkwardly, "I know, I must look strange..."

It's not as though he could walk around in dirty, bloodstained robes after all. And he does normally keep an extra set of his white robes at all times, but...

He still hasn't replaced the set he lost in a house fire two months before, so it couldn't be helped.

"My robes kept on getting dirty. I don't know if you've had the chance to notice, but... there's a lot of blood on the road, for some reason."

"I did notice that," the huntsman's wife frowns, turning around. "What on earth do you think could have happened?"

"I don't know,"

Xie Lian shakes his head, letting out a sigh. "But I'm afraid I have some very unfortunate news."

"Oh?" The wife sets down the cloth she was using to wipe off her hands, her expression stern. "Was it something Heng did? I swear, Mr. Hua, if he's given you any trouble—!"

"No!"

The young man is quick to correct her, shaking his head. "He was actually quite a help to me last night! I think...he had some sense that one of the local children was in trouble. Yan? I brought him here last night."

"...Yes," the huntsman agrees, rubbing his chin. "We saw."

"He told me some...concerning things about his situation," Xie Lian explains, his eyebrows knitting as he frowns deeply. "And he showed me...proof, left behind on his body."

The parents look at each other, silently horrified.

Of course—everyone knew that Yan's father had a tendency towards alcohol and violence. Particularly after the...questionable circumstances of his wife's passing. He was vile, and everyone knew it. But...

Yan wasn't exactly a reliable narrator either, so no one ever listened.

But they're deeply religious folk—and their trust in the young Taoist is absolute. Now, they have to believe the veracity of the tales.

"Oh, that poor child..." The wife whispers, covering her mouth. "I...I'm so sorry that we didn't..."

"It's taken care of now," Xie Lian sighs. "But now the situation has gotten a little bit messy."

The parents stare at him, waiting—and now...the Taoist enters questionable territory.

Lying—but for a good reason.

"Well, after leaving Yan here, I went to tell his father what the child had told me..." The Taoist frowns.

"And that I would be reporting it to the authorities. It only seemed like the right thing to do. I even came back at sunrise, to see if he wanted to come and turn himself in before I had to, but..." He hangs his head. "I suppose my warning pushed him to..."

"Oh!" The wife gasps. "That's...that's just horrible, I..."

Xie Lian nods, his lower lip wobbling slightly. "I can't help but wonder if things would have been different, if I had waited until morning..."

"Don't blame yourself, young man," the huntsman shakes his head, patting Xie Lian's arm. "You did the right thing."

"Yes..." Xie Lian sighs, turning his head in the direction of Heng's room, "but that poor boy, I can't imagine what will become of him now..."

The parents look at one another—not unaware of the underlying question in the cultivator's words.

"...I suppose I could use the extra hand around here..." The huntsman mutters, scratching his head. "It would do Heng good, to have a child his age around."

Xie Lian thinks Heng might prefer drowning himself in the river, but he smiles pleasantly. "I was thinking the same thing!"

"...If we do this," the wife speaks up, "Could we ask just a small favor in return? It shouldn't trouble you too much, hopefully."

Xie Lian considers the matter, tapping his chin. "What is it?"

"It's our eldest son, Kuo," she explains, reaching over to pour the tea.

"He's been a ranger for a little while now, working for the local magistrates, but..." She sighs, looking to her husband, who shakes his head with exasperation. "He's restless."

"Thinks he's too good for this place, is what it is." The huntsman huffs, crossing his arms.

"I've tried to knock some sense into him, it's no good."

Xie Lian tilts his head, arching an eyebrow. "I'm not sure how I could help with restlessness—"

"He wants to study cultivation," The Huntsman's wife explains. "We sent him to study under a master in the city, but..."

Her husband glares at the wall stormily. "He's never exactly been good with following strict rules."

Well, that explains why Heng kept bringing up the fact that Xie Lian got kicked out over and over again. Initially, the god assumed the child was just being difficult, but...

The child was clearly anxious for his older brother. Actually, it explains a lot of the behavioral issues, he...

"...I'm hardly worthy of being anyone's teacher," Xie Lian mutters, shaking his head, prepared to explain (vaguely) his own failings, but...

Before he can, the huntsman's wife reaches for his hand, squeezing gently. "You have much to offer the world, young man." She reassures him. "A person is so much more than just their eyes."

Xie Lian pauses—because that's not what he meant, but... He finds himself genuinely moved

"...I'll be traveling soon," Xie Lian explains. "South. It's not good for my cultivation method if I stay in one place for too long, but..."

(Really, it's got nothing to do with that—but Xie Lian's bad luck tends to drag others down if he lingers for too long.)

"He could travel with me, if he would like." The god murmurs, bowing his head in assent. "Though not for too long—I'm sure he'll want to return to his family quickly."

The huntsman seems doubtful of that—and in that moment, the front door slams open.

"I'm back!"

A voice crows, and in the doorway stands a tall, lean young man with long, jet black hair—dressed in dark lavender robes. And in each hand, he holds a rabbit. "Ma, I thought you might want something nice for tonight's dinner to welcome me back!" He exclaims, dropping them down.

"Where's my little brother? I thought he'd be waiting at the door to greet—"

He stops, however, when he sees a dark haired beauty dressed at their table, dressed in red silk, and his eyes go wide.

"You didn't..." He starts, pointing a trembling finger in the stranger's direction "I'm not ready to get married!" He cries, slightly terrified—but when the stranger turns their head, his expression changes slightly upon seeing an...admittedly lovely face.

"..." Xie Lian isn't sure how to react when he hears the sound of someone scrambling to kneel before him.

He feels a hand grasping his own firmly, giving it a gentle squeeze—and then the young man (Kuo) speaks again, this time clearly trying to lower his voice in order to sound a little manlier, "...I will dedicate my entire life to you, my precious flower!"

Xie Lian doesn't react immediately, his face frozen with shock—and across the table, the huntsman drops his head into his hands with an irritated groan.

"You are making a fool out of yourself, boy!"

"Love at first sight can make a man a fool!" Kuo exclaims with no hint of shame.

"I don't know," Xie Lian replies dryly, allowing the young man to kiss the back of his hand—it feels oddly reminiscent of his younger days. Men and women alike would travel for thousands of miles to present themselves before the Crown Prince of Xianle...

...Only to experience sharp disappointment when they learned the conditions of his cultivation method. "It sounded like you were afraid of commitment, before."

Kuo starts, a little surprised by how deep his bride's voice is—but not deterred in the least! "I've changed!"

"In the last thirty seconds," his mother replies, her tone just as dry as Xie Lian's.

"Yes!" Kuo nods emphatically, clutching Xie Lian's hand against his cheek. "Thank you mother, you couldn't have picked a better match—!"

"If we picked a match for you, it wouldn't be Hua—!"

His father snarls, his face slowly starting to turn purple, and Kuo squeezes Xie Lian's hand, looking terribly offended on his behalf.

"You think I care that she's blind?! I don't! I can see plenty for both of us!"

'Oh,' Xie Lian thinks offhandedly, allowing his hand to be tugged to and fro in Kuo's grip, 'that's actually rather sweet.'

An idiotic young man, but clearly a decent one.

"He's NOT A WOMAN!" The huntsman stands up, his chair screeching. "That is a MAN!"

There's a pause.

Xie Lian smiles awkwardly, waiting for the young man to cringe away or howl with disgust about being tricked, but—

Kuo doesn't let go of his hand, if anything—just holds on tighter. "And I'm OPEN MINDED!"

His mother lets out an irritated cry, "STOP EMBARRASSING US!"

The huntsman is on the brink of ripping his hair out at this rate. "We go through ALL of the trouble of finding you a cultivation master that ISN'T obligated to kick you out after three weeks of your behavior, and you ruin it in FIVE SECONDS—!"

"He's a CULTIVATION MASTER?!" Kuo cries, "My wife is a—?!"

Xie Lian is whipping his head around, trying to keep up with the shouting voices, when he hears the sound of Kuo getting slapped upside the head by his father—hard.

"HE. IS. NOT. YOUR. WIFE!" The older man howls, "Would you GET IT TOGETHER?!"

"...I'm not offended," Xie Lian finally speaks up, managing to get the group to fall into stormy silence. Well—Kuo's parents are scowling, the young man is still holding Xie Lian's hand, looking up at him with big, starstruck eyes. "But..."

He scrambles for some explanation that will satisfy the parents,while also letting the boy down easy, so...

Carefully, the cultivator pulls at the silver chain around his neck, lifting out a finely crafted ring—a ruby set in its face.

"I'm already married," he explains gently.

Another lie, one of many that he's told this morning—but the first he almost wishes was the truth.

"Is that so?" The huntsman speaks up, eyes wide. "You never mentioned a wife before, Mr. Hua."

"...They're no longer with us," Xie Lian explains with a tight smile in place.

"Oh," Kuo's mother frowns, leaning over to squeeze Xie Lian's shoulder, "I'm so sorry to hear that, dear..."

The rest of the arrangements are quick enough to work out—to the couple's shock, the Taoist isn't so disgusted by their son's overtures that he would go back on their deal

By the time the sun has fully risen, Xie Lian has changed into a slightly less ostentatious set of blue robes (he'll have to make another white set the next time they stop), and kneels between Yan and Heng very seriously, holding both of their hands in his firmly.

"...You two need to look after one another now, understand?" He murmurs, his tone stern.

"..." Heng looks away with a huff, glaring with annoyance. "I already have a shitty big brother that leaves all the time, I don't need an even shittier little brother!"

"Who said I wanted a big brother like YOU, anyway?! Besides, I'm barely younger than you, piss off!" Yan cries with a glare—but he holds onto Xie Lian's hand tightly.

"...Because it's just the two of you now," the cultivator explains, his gaze clearly strained beneath Ruoye.

Both boys stop, looking down at him. "I won't be around to make you stop fighting anymore," Xie Lian explains, his voice slightly unsteady, like...

Like he's thinking about something else.

"So, you have to try and get along, okay?" He squeezes their hands even tighter.

No one can see it—but beneath Ruoye, his eyes are hot and swimming with tears. 'Because you're going the rest of the way without me.'

'And I am so, so glad that you are.'

"...Mr. Hua? Are you...?"

He can't see them, but even if he could—he would see something else.

Xie Lian would see a gangly palace guard, crossing his arms and scowling in the opposite direction—and a young servant, clutching a broom between fingers that tremble with anger.

'I just wish we could have done it together, that's all.'

"...I'm alright," he reassures them both.

Then, Xie Lian smiles—a shaky one, the sort that hurts—

But it's a good hurt. The kind that feels like letting out a deep sigh after a good cry. It's just...growing.

And that hurts, sometimes.

"Let me tell you a secret," He murmurs—and both boys lean closer, listening closely.

Xie Lian's smile brightens—then it softens.

Heng has complained every single moment that he's spent with the Taoist. They haven't gotten along—and that's mostly his fault—but now, he realizes...

He's going to miss Xie Lian, when he goes. Yan clings to his hand even tighter.

"...The most important people in your life," the cultivator explains gently, looking back and forth between the two of them, "are the ones who grow up with you."

You never realize it when it's happening—because life is always so fast and out of focus when you're young.

Xie Lian always kept his eyes pointed forward—and he never stopped to look at the people around him. He thought he did. Thought he was a good friend, a good ruler, a good son, but...

When he finally stopped to look at the people that once stood beside him...there was no one left.

All he could do was sit by the sea, taking in the sunset one last time—and realize that there was no one to blame but him.

Not his parents, not his friends—not even Bai Wuxiang—

And never Hong-er. Never, in any world, would he ever blame Hong-er.

The only one to blame was him.

He pushed them away, or didn't fight hard enough to keep them safe, or—

Or he just didn't listen.

The boys glance at one another again, this time with slightly less distaste, and—to Xie Lian's surprise, it's Heng who speaks up first.

"...Yeah, fine." He mumbles, looking away. "I won't beat him up, or whatever."

It's not exactly a glowing promise to live together in peace and harmony, but...That wasn't what Xie Lian was asking for, anyway.

It's been several years since he came to this village, and the region surrounding. Long enough to get used to it.

Now, it almost feels like starting a new path all over again. Like...this is one juncture, where his life could have gone in two very different directions. It's hard to know if he chose the right one—Xie Lian never does, until it's very far behind him.

"You said you wanted to go south?" Kuo muses from his side, holding a truly massive crate of Xie Lian's weaving supplies in his arms, along with his own belongings on his back.

(Xie Lian can lift the crate with one finger, but the young man insisted.)

"I know a great spot!"

He explains. "There's a TON of natural hot springs and rivers. Bet you feel nervous about using public baths, right? Worried someone might take advantage? Well," the youth beams, "now you've got me!"

Xie Lian smiles, half amused, half sardonic. "Oh, thank goodness." He replies.

"And the food—you'll love it! You like spicy food, right? Ah, well, if you don't, you just gotta try the right kind—" He stops, noticing the way that Xie Lian has come to a halt in the street beside him. "...You alright, Mr. Hua?"

"...Is that a temple?" Xie Lian murmurs.

"It is," Kuo agrees, tilting his head to the side. "You wanna get some prayers done before we hit the road? I don't usually go to that one, but—"

"Which god is it for?"

(Come to think of it, Kuo doesn't know how his teacher knew it was a temple, but he lets it go.)

A few minutes later, Xie Lian finds himself kneeling on a small pillow left out for worshippers, hands clasped in his lap, struggling to think of what to say. If—If he should even say anything at all, an incense stick burning before him.

Around him, other visitors whisper.

"His divine statue is lovely, don't you think? The general must be so handsome!"

"Oh," a woman laughs softly behind her hand. "I heard that if any of his divine statues aren't to his liking, he'll destroy them and send a deputy to sculpt another."

"Hah?! Really?!"

"So vain!"

Xie Lian bites back laughter, shaking his head fondly. That sounds like him.

'I spent so long being angry with you...' He thinks to himself, fiddling with a thin piece of thread between his fingers. 'But I never stopped to think about why...about what was going on in your life.'

It's hard, growing up with the expectation that you'll always be the center of your own story. Everyone else in your life becomes a member of the supporting cast, and in a way...

It stops you from thinking of them as their own people. With their own lives, and their own...

Xie Lian tilts his chin up, staring blankly at the divine statue before him, wondering if it's a close likeness at all, or the face of an insecure boy, trying to place expensive masks over his expression.

Like that could make him feel as though he belongs.

'...That boy reminded me so much of you,' he thinks.

Difficult to deal with. Always lashing out and making the other children run away, complaining about his bad personality.

And when he tried to tell the other villagers that he was in pain, no one listened to his story.

They just complained about his 'bad' personality, brushing the rest off.

Had Xie Lian allowed others to do that around him, before? Not that his friend ever tried to say anything of the sort, but...

Had the prince ever really given him a chance?

'Was someone hurting you, too?' Xie Lian's fingers tremble in his lap. 'If you had told me, would I have listened?'

He spent so long just assuming a friendship was there—only because Xie Lian wanted it to be. Because having a normal person in his life was refreshing.

But did he ever pay attention, really?

If he's taking a brutal moral inventory of his actions—Xie Lian doesn't think he did. There were moments when it was obvious that his friend was in a difficult situation.

Even that one time, when he stopped the guards from scolding him for taking fruit from the orchard home to his family...Xie Lian never asked the boy why he needed to take them. Just told his friend that he could take as much fruit as he wanted, whenever he wanted.

That was all Xie Lian ever did. In his mind, the only real problem in his friend's life came from poverty. So, if Xie Lian just gave him things—food, money, opportunities —then he just magically wouldn't have problems anymore.

Because Mu Qing was two dimensional to him, then.

Xie Lian never considered his situation that deeply. Just offered him everything he could, over and over again—and felt irritation when Mu Qing viewed his generosity with suspicion.

'I'm not doing it so you'll thank me, or so you'll owe me,' Xie Lian used to think to himself.

'I'm doing it because we're friends.'

But what was Xie Lian thinking, when Mu Qing didn't help him that day, on the mountain? What was he thinking when Mu Qing said those words in anger in front of Feng Xin?

'How could you?'

That's what he had thought.

'How could you?!'

After everything Xie Lian had done for him, how could he?

And that—that doesn't sound like friendly generosity, or kindness for the sake of it that...

Sounds like an attempt at buying friendship from someone that was far too proud to ever accept the premise of such a thing.

When, all of that time—if Xie Lian really wanted them to be friends, he could have asked Mu Qing what he was really thinking. Away from Feng Xin, and all the others. Because when it was just the two of them, they never fought.

If he had just asked—

'Is someone hurting you?'

"Mu Qing, I..."

The prince freezes, only realizing in that moment that he had accidentally opened his mouth in prayer—and underneath Ruoye, his eyes widen, because...

...on the off chance that he was listening, would Xie Lian know what to say? Would it help? Or would it just...

Xie Lian's lips tremble as he rises to his feet, shaking his head.

He isn't ready for this.

Not yet. He's still got his own hurt and anger, weighing heavy, and—

Mu Qing is the last person that would ever want to hear from him, anyway. He shouldn't have come here.

The prince turns on his heel, walking out of the temple without another word, the doors slamming shut behind him.

His heart is still pounding when he descends the temple steps, quick to get away as quickly as

possible—and he isn't even annoyed by Kuo's boisterous voice.

"Ready to go?" He calls out, falling into step beside the cultivator.

There's one thing that Xie Lian came to notice about his student very early on—is that, unless you tell him that you want to talk, he doesn't ask what's bothering you.

Xie Lian appreciates that—especially now

"...Yes," he agrees, arms tightening around himself slightly.

The young man leads the way eagerly, broad shoulders and arms clearing a path for Xie Lian to walk through the crowd without ever bumping into anyone.

"You know, now that we're going on an adventure..." Kuo muses, rubbing his chin, "I should probably start going by my courtesy name. Put on a more serious front, you know?"

Xie Lian almost smiles. "It's hardly an adventure. What's your courtesy name, then?"

"Chi," he replies. "You can still call me Kuo, though. Besides, isn't first love always an adventure?" He waggles his eyebrows, bumping Xie Lian gently with his shoulder.

The cultivator has been faintly amused—though not encouraging—by his flirting all morning. But now...he doesn't smile at all.

"..." The youth glances away, sniffing awkwardly—but he's never been one to give up so easily. "Your husband," he starts, glancing at Xie Lian through the corner of his eye, "...you still miss him?"

Xie Lian's fingers reach for the chain around his neck without thinking.

Xie Lian finds it interesting that Kuo presumes his partner was male. He never said anything to indicate his preference one way or the other, but...he doesn't correct it.

"...I'll always miss him," he answers softly.

You stop missing people when you forget them, after all.

And that isn't possible for Xie Lian. Even if they were never married. And their relationship, it never truly reached that point, but...

Kuo considers that for a moment, squaring his shoulders. "Well, I'm not giving up, alright? I'll make you get over him—for sure!"

"..." for the first time in ages, Xie Lian actually laughs. Throws his head back and laughs hard, straight from his gut.

"Hey! It's not funny! I'm gonna work really hard!" Kuo whines, not seeming that upset—and it only makes his teacher laugh even harder, shaking his head.

"A flower can only be plucked by the stem once," Xie Lian wipes at the corners of his eyes underneath Ruoye, smiling. "After that, it won't bloom again."

And someone has already picked the crown prince, in the end. "What kind of saying is that?! It's so DEPRESSING!" Kuo cries.

Xie Lian has already bloomed in someone else's eyes—and has no desire to do so again.

What he didn't know then, was just how desperately someone was still seeking the flower.

And, that in the heavenly capital above, someone had stopped in mid step, eyes wide. "...General?"

One of his deputies stumbles to a halt beside him, nearly dropping the basket of items he had been carrying back to his superior's palace. "General Xuan Zhen?"

The young god doesn't answer immediately, his expression unreadable, then—

"Go on without me."

"But—!"

"Now."

The deputy gives him an odd look before nodding, continuing on down the street, and...

He squeezes his eyes shut, remembering the way those words sounded in his head.

'Mu Qing, I...'

It—It was...

It was him, wasn't it?

And Xie Lian would never know, out of all of his prayers, this was the first time someone tried to answer.

'Your highness?' Mu Qing mutters, pressing his fingers to his temple. But...there's no reply.

'Why would he call me?'

Out of all of everyone on earth, god and mortal...

...Mu Qing knows that he's the last person Xie Lian would try to talk to.

And Xie Lian never knew, in the centuries that followed, that the great General Xuan Zhan took the time to descend to his temple immediately after, searching the crowds.

'Your highness?'

'Are you—?'

But no matter where he looked—there was no sign of him. Even when he changed into a mortal form, asking one of the worshippers in the temple...

They explained a blind Taoist had indeed been there, leaving his offering—and then left.

And why...

Why would he do that?

Mu Qing stands over an incense stick, long since burnt out—his eyes filled with far too many emotions to untangle fully, thinking—

'Why did you do that?'

Part of him wants to discard it as an oddity.

A moment of the crown prince faking kindness, just to show everyone how forgiving he is. How decency comes so easily to him, when all Mu Qing knows how to do is fake...

His hands ball into fists at his sides, trembling.

...But what if it wasn't that? What else could it be?

Mu Qing has always been a worrier. Even Xie Lian knew that, but...

The crown prince never knew just how much his friend worried about him. And he wouldn't—not for a very long time.

Worried enough to go to the one person that Mu Qing would have always preferred to avoid.

Feng Xin doesn't even look up from where he sits by the fire in his palace, sharpening one of his blades to a fine point, his posture tense.

"Get out."

Mu Qing rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe. "You think I'd be here if I had a choice?"

"...Then what could be so important?" His f—e—

Mu Qing's former co-worker, turned enemy, now co-worker once again replies icily.

"..." The martial god looks down at the floor, slowly fiddling with a longer piece of his hair, twirling it around his finger. "I heard something."

Feng Xin never so much as looks up at him, working on his sword slightly more aggressively. "You hear a lot of things, Mu Qing. I've never cared to hear about them before."

"..." And since he doesn't look up, he never sees how complicated the look in the god's eye actually is.

Feng Xin never really looks at Mu Qing to begin with. Only ever reacts to the sharpness of his tone when he speaks.

"Xie Lian."

The larger man stiffens, his knuckles suddenly white where they grip the handle of his sword. "Excuse me?"

"I heard Xie Lian," Mu Qing replies.

"He prayed to me this afternoon."

Well. He doesn't know if it actually counted. After all—the crown prince barely said more than his name before disappearing again, but...

Mu Qing knows that Feng Xin has been looking for Xie Lian too, all this time—even if it's never been said.

"Did he say anything to you?"

Naturally, if it was what Mu Qing suspects it was—a cry for help—the prince would have called out to Feng Xin first, but...

Feng Xin sets the sword down against his legs, and he sounds so tired . "I don't have time for whatever this is, Mu Qing."

The god freezes as Feng Xin runs his fingers through his hair, sagging forward with a mixture between exhaustion and resentment. "If you want to fight, come back and start lying to get my attention tomorrow—I don't have the energy today."

"I..." Mu Qing sputters, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not lying!"

"Sure you're not," Feng Xin rolls his eyes, finally looking up to meet Mu Qing's gaze. "He didn't pray to me," he replies, clearly indulging what he thinks is an antagonistic question. "And in what universe would he EVER want to pray to someone like you?"

Someone like him.

"..." Mu Qing hangs his head for a moment, his hair obscuring his face.

It's funny, sometimes—how saying the right thing can completely changing the trajectory of a man's life...

And so can saying the wrong thing.

"...you are SUCH a self righteous bastard."

Mu Qing mutters. "At least I can say I left. He didn't send me away because I wasn't any good to him anymo—"

THUD!

The slam is so violent, several scrolls topple down from a nearby shelf. Feng Xin doesn't care, just glares down at Mu Qing hatefully.

Mu Qing never flinches.

Not even now, with Feng Xin's fingers easily encircling his entire throat. He just smirks up at the general, smug with the knowledge that he clearly struck a nerve. "You wanna know why he'll never pray to you, Feng Xin?"

The god squeezes tighter, and Mu Qing grins fiercely.

"Because you set these high expectations for everyone else...and when people don't know how to meet them...you end up alone," Mu Qing explains, fingers delicately grasping Feng Xin's wrist. Not trying to push him away, no—

He's trying to hurt him.

The same way Mu Qing hurts.

Because the way Mu Qing's thumb brushes over the inside of Feng Xin's wrist is reminiscent of an intimate caress.

A reminder of the fact that, of the two people that the martial god has desired in his life—both left him for that exact reason.

They won't ever touch him that way—and now, the only person who will is the likes of Mu Qing, in a situation like this—taunting him.

And Feng Xin has never desired Mu Qing.

Mu Qing is more painfully aware of that fact than anyone else.

"...I never expect anything but the worst from you," Feng Xin mutters, eyes acidic with anger. This is a side of him that Xie Lian never knew. A side of the god that almost no one ever knows. "And somehow, I still end up disappointed."

Feng Xin's passing moments of cruelty will always belong to Mu Qing.

Mu Qing tips his head slightly, his cheek bumping against Feng Xin's fingers, eyes slightly narrowed as he murmurs, "But I'm the only one that's left, aren't I?"

Briefly, there's a spark in Feng Xin's gaze.

A self loathing sort of heat, one that he can't help—and just the sight of it makes Mu Qing's stomach lurch, but—

The hand gripping his throat lets him go, and Feng Xin turns his back on him.

"You left a long time ago Mu Qing. It doesn't matter that we're on the same side now."

After all—Xie Lian wasn't actually there when Mu Qing left. He was off god knows where, doing god knows what, it—

Feng Xin was the one that Mu Qing left behind that day. And neither of them has ever forgotten it.

"Get out."

This time—Mu Qing listens.

They've had countless fights over the years—but this is the first time that both come to regret an argument in the aftermath. Each too proud to go to the other and investigate the truth behind what happened, and...

The crown prince does not pray to Mu Qing again.