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Feng Xin stood in the shadows of the side street opposite the building and heavily resisted the urge to run away. The women outside were giggling and calling to passing men in an effort to entice them inside. Feng Xin’s body made an effort to duck more firmly into the alley.

This was stupid. This was insanity. This was absolutely not where he should be or what he should be doing. He should go back to His Highness and Her Majesty and… it had been Her Majesty that told him to come here.

Feng Xin would consider that unbelievable except so many unbelievable things had already happened that in fact Her Majesty’s order wasn’t all that beyond the pale any more. She had been flinty eyed though the set of her mouth had been sharp when she had passed Feng Xin a few coins they certainly couldn’t spare and told him to go “have a good time for the night”.

Feng Xin had all but choked and had darted a look at His Highness so they could commiserate that utterly insane order that had left Her Majesty’s mouth, except that Xie Lian was doing what he spent most of his time doing now which was shivering and staring into nothing. Feng Xin’s comment died in this throat and when he looked back to Her Majesty her gaze was now fixed on her son.

“Consider it an order Feng Xin.” She had said then, voice just as soft and flowery as it had always been even though the both of them knew that nothing was the same.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He had answered because what else was he supposed to say? Besides, Her Majesty at this point had put her arm around Xie Lian and was trying to pull his unresisting body into her embrace.

“Lian’er.” She murmured, “A-Niang’s here, Lian’er?”

Feng Xin had left immediately because that wasn’t the kind of thing he was ever supposed to see even in the tiny shack with two rooms that the three of them shared.

So here he was, to “have fun”.

He understood what Her Majesty was trying to do. She wanted time alone with Xie Lian and Feng Xin could even admit that he tended to… hover. Though he felt that was perfectly understandable considering everything that had happened.

She was also probably hoping that a night out would also soften him, maybe improve his mental state.

Feng Xin supposed that sex right now might actually be quite nice. He’d done it a few times previously while he was serving as Xie Lian’s heavenly official. First having a short but sweet affair with an official from a minor literature god’s palace who was pretty in an irreverent way. She had been the one to boldly approach him when he had been running an errand for Xie Lian and had propositioned him by asking if he wanted to go “pick flowers with her”.

Feng Xin said yes (he had been on a high from His Highness’ ascension and the elation of being in Heaven had erased most of his fear towards women for that one shining moment) and moments after he had clumsily tucked a pretty blossom behind her ear they were rolling around on the carpet of sweet-scented flowers in some far-away field.

After her it had been a sharp woman with a rather barbed tongue from another Martial god’s palace. A far lesser god than Xie Lian, the Flower Crowned Martial God who was favoured by Jun Wu himself. The thing about hierarchies is that Feng Xin had been too used to always being on the top half of them the point that he barely noticed they existed though others certainly had.

Feng Xin had liked sex. It felt good and could be fun depending on the mood. The women always seemed sated by the end of it and he liked making his partners feel good. He imagined that weightless euphoria of climax now and ached a little for the simplicity of it. Alright, he could understand why Her Majesty had sent him here. Though it was embarrassing that she obviously knew that he’d had sex before and enjoyed it.

Feng Xin roughly shook himself and reminded himself that Her Majesty knew he didn’t follow anything like His Highness’ cultivation path and most people (even Her Majesty and the late King of Xian Le) had all obviously had sex. It was fine. Not embarrassing at all. This was a very normal thing for a young man to do.

Besides, Feng Xin’s face fell a little, he could endure embarrassment if it meant Xie Lian would get better. Even a little better. His mind went back to the look on Xie Lian’s face when they had passed by one of his burnt down shrines. Feng Xin hadn’t known what to do or say and he wasn’t good enough at controlling his own expression so he knew Xie Lian saw whatever he was feeling reflected back at him. Nowadays Her Majesty was the only person who could coax Xie Lian when he was in that kind of mood. It was a little surreal to see, not because Feng Xin ever considered Her Majesty an unloving person or inattentive mother but because in the past dignity had taken the fore seat and any coaxing had happened behind closed doors that Feng Xin certainly wasn’t allowed to cross. (Not that gracious, calm, put-together Xie Lian ever needed to be coaxed in the first place.)

Now they were only three survivors from the fall of Xian Le and living together in such close quarters had given Feng Xin endless images of Her Majesty as nothing more than a mother to someone who was broken enough to be mute most of the time.

So all of that had left Feng Xin outside this brothel with the coins they really couldn’t spare burning a hole in his pocket.

Technically Her Majesty made this an order.

Feng Xin steels himself and walks inside. His skin is prickling and there’s something that’s not quite shame coiling low in his stomach. During his time growing up he had been invited by many of the other young men in the palace to go out with them, to taverns and gambling dens and brothels but he had always declined. Ostensibly it was for Xie Lian’s sake since he was his bodyguard and therefore had to guard him at all times. Xie Lian was abstinent due to his cultivation anyway no matter how many times he assured Feng Xin he should accept the invitations and that he truly didn’t mind. Feng Xin knew His Highness didn’t mind but Xie Lian was such a convenient excuse that he couldn’t even feel bad about using him as such. Besides, who could be offended by Feng Xin rejecting their invitation if it was because of His Highness?

“Greetings xiansheng.” Feng Xin choked on his own spit a little. The madam was wearing practically nothing. She must have noticed his look because she raised an eyebrow, “Does xiansheng not like what he sees?”

“I- I-“ Feng Xin stuttered. He’d technically never been to a brothel before but he was sure that most people were at least somewhat clothed most of the time? He’d never imagined that there would be so much skin on display so immediately.

The madam huffed a mean laugh, “If xiansheng is just going to stand and stare then he will be charged for that.”

Feng Xin coughed and tried to regain what pieces of his dignity he had left, “I’ve come for-“

“I know what you’ve come for.” The madam said bluntly, cutting him off. She ran her eyes up and down him, “Not bad looking.” She muttered to herself, “What is it you’re looking for?” She asked then, directed at Feng Xin.

Feng Xin had no idea what to say to that. Did she mean what kind of woman? How would Feng Xin even word that? He wasn’t even sure what kind of woman he did like. Beautiful certainly but his previous two experiences had been with vastly different looking women.

“Uh-“ He stuttered.

The madam’s eyes narrowed, “A woman?”

He didn’t know what was in his expression but her eyes widened briefly before narrowing speculatively, “I see.” She said.

Feng Xin had no idea what she saw.

She then smirked, “You’re in luck xiansheng.” She then waved a hand down the corridor, “The last room, it has a chrysanthemum painted on the door.”

Feng Xin had no idea what she had just decided but this entire experience was rapidly becoming more stressful than he felt he could stand so he made his escape down the corridor. The few girls he passed on the way giggled and whispered as he strode past but none of them tried to speak to him or stop him. Feng Xin was sure his face must be bright red by the time he had reached the aforementioned door and yanked it open to escape the giggling behind him.

Once inside the tiny and badly lit room he let out a breath. That had been an awful experience.

“Is gongzi going to remain by the door?” The voice was irreverent and caustic. Sharp.

Feng Xin looked up in the gloom of the room his eyes landed on the figure of the whore the madam had sent him to.

It was hard to tell but… as his eyes adjusted to the dark he realised with a sudden start that it was a man. With long hair certainly and delicate features but still a man.

“I-“ Feng Xin felt himself relax slightly now that he wasn’t surrounded by the perfumed, snickering forms of all the women outside but he was still tense, “I’m not-“

“The madam sent you didn’t she?” The man asked, standing in a fluid motion that showed off his lithe figure under the loose clothes he was wearing. In all honestly the only thing he had in common with the other workers in the brothel was how pretty he was. In all other ways: the way his hair was tied up, the way his clothes hung on him, the way he was speaking; he had more in common with any other young man Feng Xin would have run into on the streets.

“Yes.” Feng Xin answered, “She didn’t say that you were-“

“A man?” The man in question crossed his arms, “No she rarely does.”

“Why not?” Feng Xin asked with a frown, “Wouldn’t that be important information?”

The man tilted his head at him for a second with his sharp eyes and then turned back towards what Feng Xin recognised to be a sleeping mat in the corner of the small room. There was a pile of cloth next to it that the man quickly folded up and put into another bag before shoving to the side of the room.

“Does gongzi want to lie down?” The man asked dispassionately.

“I- uh, shouldn’t I pay you first?” Feng Xin asked.

The man looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. When Feng Xin didn’t say anything else he nodded and motioned him forward, stretching out a hand ostensibly for payment.

Feng Xin strode forward and dug out the coins Her Majesty had insisted he take, dropping them in the man’s palm. The man counted them, expression betraying nothing.

“Is that enough?” Feng Xin asked, “I’m not sure-“

“It’s enough.” The man answered shortly before turning to tuck the money into the bag with the fabric scraps, “How do you want me?”

It was at this moment that Feng Xin realised that he had just paid to have sex with this man and he wasn’t even sure he was attracted to men at all. He’d only ever had sex with women before and while he’d had moments of aesthetic appreciation towards other men before he had never felt the same sexual draw that he did towards women.

He eyed the man in front of him who had now dropped his eyeline so he was looking at the wooden floor. His lashes made a delicate fan of shadows over his sharp cheekbones. He was objectively beautiful.

Feng Xin felt a stir of arousal that answered all his questions. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the implication of what they had come here to do that cast this spell over the room, maybe it was the way the man next looked up at him through those delicate lashes and Feng Xin was suddenly sure he’d never seen anything so seductive before in his entire life.

His heart pounds slightly and it comes with a sudden realisation that he’s paid this person now and that means he’s allowed to touch him however he wants. It’s a heady feeling, almost possessive in a way he’d never truly felt with his previous partners. But of course with his previous partners they’d been casual arrangements that had started and ended easily with very little fuss. In this exchange Feng Xin is allowed to feel that tinge of ownership, allowed to revel in the fact that he can look and touch however he wants.

With that in mind he falls to his knees on the sleeping mat so the two of them are practically nose to nose and before the other can open his mouth to say something he cups the smooth cheek in his own calloused hand and presses their mouths together.

This is easy at least. Kissing is the same action no matter who it is and Feng Xin has been told (resoundingly, more than once) that he’s good at kissing.

Judging by the way the man he’s kissing melts into it he would say it’s not incorrect.

The smug feeling in his chest causes him to apply more force, leaning forward so the other is slowly pressed onto their back on the mat with Feng Xin’s hand tangled in their long ponytail. They kiss for a while longer, Feng Xin quickly becoming intoxicated by his own slow-growing arousal and the feel of the person under him. Has it truly been so long that he’s practically panting for the first person he’s gotten like this? Feng Xin doesn’t think that’s completely it. There’s something to the smell of this man’s skin, the hitch of his breath when Feng Xin uses his tongue to swipe at his lips, the way he gasps when Feng Xin lightly winds his ponytail around his fist and gently tugs.

He pulls back just briefly and the look on the other’s flushed face is almost unbearably attractive.

Feng Xin dives right back in, this time moving his lips down to press at the other’s neck. He sucks a bruise onto that pale skin that’s rapidly flushing bright pink. The other’s blush is travelling rapidly to spread all the way down their neck to the upper part of their chest that Feng Xin is starting to discover as he loosens their collar and slips the widened fabric off their shoulders to pool at their waist.

It’s very obviously a man’s chest.

It rapidly becomes apparent to Feng Xin that he doesn’t care.

Maybe I’m a cutsleeve. He thinks with not much weight as he presses a soft kiss to the man’s collarbone, making him shudder slightly. The realisation that he’s sexually attracted to men would probably be something more earth-shattering if he hadn’t followed Xie Lian to heaven, into war and then into banishment. After that whole sequence any revelations about his own sexuality seem rather mundane and unimportant.

He travels back up the man’s chest and presses a soft but insistent kiss to their mouth, “Good?” He murmurs lowly and takes great pride in the way the other’s eyes are slightly hazy and their lips kiss swollen.

The man doesn’t reply, just turns his head to the side as if he’s flustered.

Feng Xin chuckles a little to himself and leans down to kiss him again, this time rolling them so they’re both lying on their sides. This is a preferable position for the way he can hook one arm under the other’s waist to bring them chest to chest and tangle their legs together. His other hand goes to stroke down the man’s side, all the way from his now sloppily tied hair, to his shoulder, down the sweep of his waist until it finally rests in a proprietary hold on his hip.

Feng Xin’s hand clenches down on that hip as he draws the other closer and closer, heat building in his gut in response to the man’s seeming involuntary gasps and whines.

“Good?” He asks again, hand moving up from the hold on his hip to settle on his waist.

When he pulls back he can see the other’s eyes are shining in the low light of the lone flickering candle on the other side of the room. There’s something in his expression that’s shockingly vulnerable and it twinges at Feng Xin with the urge to protect, to keep safe. It pulls at all his instincts. All the parts of him that have been so important growing up as Xie Lian’s guard and have been consistently trampled on as he watched the person he was sworn to protect thrown down and ground into the dirt again and again.

“Good.” The other says very very quietly, almost a non-word breathed into the space between them.

Feng Xin dives back in almost desperately and before he knows it he has the other naked in his arms. The flush hasn’t dissipated, only becoming more prominent and spreading further all the way down his chest to his flushed nipples.

They weren’t really like women’s nipples, they seemed more sensitive for one, and touching the lean muscles of his chest wasn’t at all like cupping a woman’s breast. But all that considering Feng Xin can’t say it’s worse. It’s not necessarily better either, just different. Maybe it suits the person he is better now. Maybe after everything that’s happened touching a woman’s soft form would feel wrong, would feel like something he’s not allowed.

Or maybe there’s something about this person in particular.

Feng Xin deepens the kiss, “Can I have you?” He asks huskily when he pulls back.

The man’s flush deepens even further, “Do what you want!” It’s clear he tries to snap but instead it comes out breathless and somehow coy.

Feng Xin smiles and leans back, stripping off his trousers as he goes, so the other is perched in his lap. He’s not sure if this is the best position for this, he’s never had sex in the other hole before but this had been his favourite position that he’d done with the first literature god’s official and the thought of doing it with this person makes his heart pound with excitement and arousal.

“Should I prepare you?” He asks. He has a vague impression that when having sex with someone in the other hole there needs to be oil or something but the man just flushes even darker across his cheekbones and nose and shakes his head.

“No,” He says slightly shakily, “You can just- just p-put it in.” Somehow Feng Xin finds the stutter deeply charming.

He shifts slightly in place and watches the man’s throat bob as he shakily lowers himself on Feng Xin’s cock.

Feng Xin keeps one hand on his hip and the other on the man’s waist to guide him but can’t stop himself from swearing lowly when the head pops inside. It’s tight. Really really fucking tight. It’s hot as well and slick. How is it slick? It’s almost slicker than a woman.

“Fuck.” He says in a voice that sounds slurred, hand on the man’s waist flexing, “You feel so fucking good.”

The man doesn’t say anything in reply, just gasps and squirms slightly.

“You okay?” Feng Xin asks seriously, beating back his arousal for a second to look the other in the face, “Need a moment?”

“I’m fine.” The other hisses but it dissolves into a sort of mewl.

Feng Xin keeps himself as steady as he can.

“Here.” He takes one of the other’s slim thighs in his hand and guides it gently to hook around his back, “Like this.” And with his other hand he slides it down to the man’s other thigh.

He takes the hint and brings it to join his other leg so his ankles are crossed behind Feng Xin’s back. Like this his cock slides in a little deeper and the man gasps and shakes a little in Feng Xin’s embrace.

Because Feng Xin can, because this is why he wanted this position in the first place, he presses a kiss to the other’s lips.

“Stay like this.” He murmurs, “Just for a bit.”

His arousal burns but deeper than that is the intoxicating feeling of having this person so close; their arms have moved to wrap around Feng Xin’s neck and Feng Xin’s own hands traverse the length of their back gently, brushing against their hair and caressing their hip and then back to their waist.

Feng Xin eyes the bruise he made on their neck earlier and sucks another onto their collarbone.

“Ah! Gongzi-” The man gasps.

“Feng Xin.” Feng Xin murmurs against their lips, “That’s my name. Call me by my name.”

“F-Feng Xin.”

It gets Feng Xin drunk and he starts moving slowly, rocking into the other in tiny tiny movements. The other man’s cock bobs against Feng Xin’s stomach as they move and he feels his heart thump dangerously at the intimacy.

“Is this good?” He asks lowly, “Does this feel good?”

“Mmm.” The man huffs out through lips pressed together so tightly they’ve turned white.

Feng Xin nips at their neck, “You feel incredible. You’re so beautiful.” He says honestly, “Fucking gorgeous.”

ng XiThe other’s head tips back and his cascade of hair brushes over the back of Fen’s hands where they’ve got his waist caught to control the slow grind. Feng Xin can’t resist, bringing his left hand up to tangle in that hair, releasing it from its tie to tumble down his back in a long spill of dark ink.

“Beautiful.” Feng Xin can’t help but say again and the man clenches around him, somehow getting even tighter.

“Fuck.” Feng Xin’s expletive is punched out, “You like that? You like me telling you how beautiful you are? How good you feel?”

“S-stop talking.” The man says, it comes out more pleading than he probably means it to and it lights something up inside of Feng Xin.

His hand drifts to the other’s cock, “I’m going to make you come.” He promises as he twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to the head the way he himself knows he likes. It turns out stroking another man’s dick after spending quite a few years stroking your own isn’t too challenging. It’s easier for Feng Xin to figure out than a woman’s body anyway, he had struggled for a while with that but this is straightforward. Familiar almost.

“Nnngh. Hah. Ah.” The man makes these pretty little punched out whines every time Feng Xin times a small rock of his hips with a tug of his cock, “Feng Xin!”

Fuck. Fuck. Feng Xin doesn’t know if he’s just going crazy but he doesn’t think he’s ever been so hard in his entire life. He thinks this is the best sex he’s ever had. He smashes his lips against the man’s, kissing him sloppily and revelling in the way the man kisses back.

Fuck.

With a stifled cry the man comes hard, all over Feng Xin’s hand and his walls squeeze even tighter around Feng Xin’s cock.

Feng Xin’s swears again but he doesn’t want this to end yet so he holds off his orgasm and tips the man back so he’s now on his back on the mat with his legs thrown over Feng Xin’s shoulders.

Feng Xin starts thrusting again, slow and deep while the man shudders and gasps.

“Okay?” Feng Xin asks, pressing a kiss to the side of his knee which is within reach of his mouth. The second woman he'd had sex with liked it if he held off coming and kept going until she could barely stand it. Even the first had wanted to climax at least once before he did. He's unsure if the same still applies with men but the man looks as though he's feeling good and seeing that starts a feedback loop of pleasure in Feng Xin's own brain, so he keeps going. 

The man whines against his fist which he’s stuffed in his mouth to stifle the noises.

Feng Xin makes a sharper thrust that makes the man’s eyes shoot open, revealing how red and teary they are. He looks completely bullied and Feng Xin just wants to keep going for as long as he can.

“Is this okay?” He repeats as he thrusts again.

The man gasps and whimpers a little but manages to nod very slightly before he covers his face completely with both his hands. His limp cock is lying on his stomach but with every thrust it bobs slightly and even seems to be valiantly trying to stiffen again.

“Fuck you’re incredible.” Feng Xin leans down and bites at the inside of their thigh, “I could do this all night, you’re so beautiful.”

The man whimpers and tightens slightly in response.

“What’s your name?” Feng Xin asks, heart pounding and mind a mess as he continues to thrust, leaning so far forward he’s practically folding the man in half.

“Mu- Mu Qing.” The man’s mouth falls open to moan.

Feng Xin doesn’t even consider that it could be a fake name, he forgets where he is, who this is, that he paid for this, that Her Majesty and His Highness are out there and he’ll be going back to them after this. He forgets all of that and can just focus on the way when he leans down Mu Qing sweetly cranes up so they can meet in the middle for a kiss.

“Mu Qing.” He groans as he speeds up his thrusts, “So fucking tight. So hot, fuck you feel- you-“

The man whines and gasps and all those stupid small noises are driving Feng Xin insane.

When he finally comes it’s with a euphoria that almost burns his brain out.

Sex really does make you stupid.

When he manages to somewhat focus it’s to Mu Qing’s flushed face, mouth hanging open as his hard dick rests against his stomach as his walls flutter around Feng Xin.

Without even thinking Feng Xin bends down and takes Mu Qing’s dick into his mouth.

He barely has to suck once before the other comes into his mouth with a shout. It tastes… not great but not unexpected. Feng Xin’s tasted his own come before out of curiosity and to be honest it tastes very similar. Pretty bad but Feng Xin’s eaten army rations for weeks on end before with no reprise so it’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever tasted. He swallows easily and is rewarded by Mu Qing’s wide-eyed look of arousal, mouth still hanging open.

Feng Xin grins at him, smug and exhausted and sated and shuffles back so he can slide out of Mu Qing who makes a small noise at the feeling. His cum is leaking out of Mu Qing’s reddened entrance and Feng Xin finds himself absolutely transfixed by the sight. He’d liked watching his spend drip out of the women he fucked too and this is just as good, somehow almost better. But still, he looks around and his gaze alights on his shirt which he grabs and then tears a section off the sleeve to use to wipe between Mu Qing’s legs.

The other doesn’t protest and when Feng Xin looks up he’s watching him through eyes that are somehow suspicious even as they’re softened by the thorough way Feng Xin had fucked him.

Feng Xin can’t resist; he crawls back up the other’s body and kisses him again. It’s a deep kiss and he’s not sure what he’s trying to convey only that there’s… something.

Beautiful. So beautiful.

Maybe that’s what he’s trying to say.

Either way they keep kissing, Mu Qing’s mouth is lazy and soft against his. Pliant and tired and when he pulls back he sees the other’s eyes are drooping slightly.

Fucked him to sleep. Feng Xin thinks with no small burst of satisfaction. Good. His eyes trace the bags under the other’s eyes, Mu Qing looks as though he could use the sleep.

Therefore with that thought, when Mu Qing’s eyes slide shut and his breath evens out, Feng Xin just gathers the limp body sweetly into his arms and nuzzles into that long hair.

Fuck, Her Majesty had the right idea. He thinks with some amusement as he wraps his arms around Mu Qing’s waist.

Before he knows it, he’s also asleep.

*

Feng Xin is first and foremost a trained soldier. His parents and ancestors were guards and generals to the Xian Le royal family and he knew from the day he was old enough to speak that he would be the same.

He didn’t mind, his father and mother were so proud of him when he naturally excelled in training and even prouder when His and Her Majesties had personally praised Feng Xin and officially assigned him as Xie Lian’s personal guard. It was an honour. Feng Xin thought so, his ancestors thought so, everyone thought so. Maybe he would have felt differently if Xie Lian hadn’t been so kind and easy to get along with, if the other hadn’t treated him as his closest friend and if they hadn’t had so much fun together. Maybe he would have felt differently if His and Her Majesties (who he saw more than his own parents) were cruel and capricious rulers, if he was regularly punished for slights, if being Xie Lian’s guard was a bad experience.

In the end Feng Xin was martially trained from birth and his role had only evolved and expanded as he got older from Xie Lian’s guard to his Heavenly Official to his War General. He doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t regret anything. Regret isn’t something that’s natural to Feng Xin’s nature, neither is overthinking. At his core he’s a fairly simple person. (He’d been praised by His Majesty for that, for understanding implicitly his own place and role in the palace and Xie Lian’s life. He supposed it would have maybe been an insult for someone else but to Feng Xin it was simply fact. Feng Xin is a prideful person but he’s not particularly ambitious, he has no reason to be. His place in life was one that had been decided the day he showed a hint of martial talent and the trajectory had never shifted since.)

So at his heart Feng Xin is a soldier who’s never stopped fighting.

Therefore he sleeps light.

That’s why as soon as Mu Qing starts to slightly stir into wakefulness in his arms it immediately wakes Feng Xin as well.

“Awake already?” His voice rumbles, still heavy with sleep.

Mu Qing freezes in his arms before coughing and saying in a raspy enough voice that Feng Xin feels rather proud, “It’s morning.”

“How can you tell?” Feng Xin asks rather lazily.

Mu Qing shifts again in his arms, “It’s getting light.” The candle had burnt out during the night but when Feng Xin looks towards where Mu Qing’s head is turned he sees that between the slats of the wall there is indeed a bluish grey tinge of early morning light bleeding through.

“Ah.” Feng Xin releases the body and backs up so he can stretch, spine popping as he does so. When he looks back at Mu Qing the other’s eyes dart away quickly from where they’d obviously been watching him, there’s a dark blush on the other’s cheeks that delights Feng Xin.

“Mu Qing.” Feng Xin takes great pleasure in using their name, “If I want you again this morning do I have to pay again?” It’s bolder than maybe he would be usually but he doesn’t feel the need to pull back, this isn’t a delicate lady who he has to watch his words around. And at the thought of what they did last night he feels his arousal begin to stir.

Mu Qing freezes, “I-“ His blush is in full force across his face and neck. He clears his throat again, “I only have this room until it gets light outside.”

Feng Xin frowns, “I thought the workers lived in the brothel?”

As he asks Mu Qing busies himself by shifting off the sleeping mat and nudging Feng Xin (none too gently) to also get off. Feng Xin does so and watches as Mu Qing rolls up the mat and retrieves the bag from the corner. He then walks over to the burnt-out candle in the tiny holder and puts it inside the bag.

Feng Xin stretches again and begins to reach for his clothes, sensing that there won’t be a round two for now.

“I only do this sometimes.” Mu Qing says as he also begins to pull on his clothes, “So I rent this room from the brothel.”

“Huh.” Feng Xin considers it, “Then normally I wouldn’t pay the worker in their room?”

“No, you would give the money to the madam up front. And you probably wouldn’t be allowed to stay the night.” Mu Qing sounds deeply sarcastic for a second, “Is this the first time you’ve been to a brothel?”

“Yes.” Feng Xin says honestly.

Mu Qing stumbles a little where he was putting on his trousers.

“Careful.” Feng Xin reaches across to steady him and with his hand on Mu Qing’s elbow he’s unable to resist from tugging the man into his arms and kissing him. Mu Qing’s the same height as him, only maybe one chi shorter.

Mu Qing looks so soft in the low morning light with his hair still down and spread across his shoulders and the marks Feng Xin left on his neck last night.

The best part is that he kisses back, even pressing closer for one brief beautiful second before abruptly ripping himself away.

“I- we don’t have the room anymore-“ He stumbles over his words, “We need to go.”

Feng Xin nods and follows him out of the room. He wants to take Mu Qing to an inn, rent a room and spend the next month taking the man apart again and again and again.

“This isn’t the way to the entrance.” He says as Mu Qing leads him down a few darkened corridors in the opposite direction from the way he came in.

“It’s better to leave through the back door.” Is the reply.

If Feng Xin asked him to go to an inn would he say yes? Would he agree and let Feng Xin kiss him again and again and again until he’s as breathless and pliant as he was last night?

Feng Xin is about to ask but then Mu Qing opens a door and they’re out of the brothel, spilling out onto a small side-street. The cold early morning air is bracing and immediately sobers Feng Xin up from whatever insanity he was experiencing before. He has to go back now, back to Her Majesty and His Highness. They need him.

But…

“Are you planning on renting that room again?” Feng Xin asks as Mu Qing turns, presumably to leave.

Mu Qing hesitates, “I don’t- I don’t have a strict schedule with it or anything like that. I go when I-“ He cuts himself off, “I’m not sure.” He ends up saying in an even voice.

“Oh.” Feng Xin isn’t sure how to say what he wants to which is “I want to see you again.”

“I have to go.” Mu Qing says quickly then and without anything else he hurries down the street, practically running, and disappears around the corner while Feng Xin stands there feeling… well all in all feeling rather empty.

As he makes his way back to Her Majesty and His Highness he finds himself ruminating on surprising parts of the night; the way Mu Qing had felt sleeping in his arms, the way he had called his name, the prickly way he had taken his money and then the way he had melted into Feng Xin’s arms during that first kiss. Even the kiss this morning was good. Perfect even. If he was allowed to Feng Xin would have laid him down again and kissed him until his legs were wobbly.

By the time he gets back to the small shack he’s a little hard and spends some time outside berating it to go away and thinking firmly unsexy thoughts until it does.

Finally he’s ready to open the door and go inside.

“Your Majesty? Your Highness?” He calls.

“Feng Xin.” Her Majesty emerges first from the second room. She looks worn but not unhappy. “You’re back, how was your night?”

The blush explodes over the face and he coughs into his fist, “Ah- y-yes. That-“

“I was only teasing.”

“R-right.” Feng Xin nods. He doesn’t know how to manage Her Majesties’ new more casual attitude. The woman was (still is) his Queen. Even if Xian Le doesn’t exist anymore that doesn’t make a difference. However, after the fall of her kingdom, the death of her husband and her son’s fall from grace and banishment Her Majesty has changed. Feng Xin understands, there’s no point in useless airs and graces now but it’s still unnerving.

“Feng Xin?” His Highness comes out then. His eyes are reddened and his voice is hoarse but he gives Feng Xin a small but real smile, “A-Niang told me she sent you out.”

“Yes. Out.” Feng Xin prays Her Majesty didn’t tell him where or why and judging by the look on Xie Lian’s face he doesn’t think she did.

“I’m glad you’re back.” Xie Lian says softly but with feeling and it’s enough for now.

*

Feng Xin isn’t ashamed to say he goes back to the brothel at least six times over the next two weeks looking for Mu Qing. When out and about he also keeps an eye out for the distinct fall of his hair or figure. They only had one night together and barely spoke but Feng Xin can’t stop running through it in his mind. He feels like he’s going insane.

Tonight when he enters the brothel the madam barely spares him a look.

“You’re in luck.” She says sounding bored, “Stuck up little mister is finally back, same room as last time.”

Feng Xin doesn’t waste time to speak to her, instead all but running to the tiny room that he’s been dreaming about and barging inside.

Mu Qing looks up from where he’s been arranging his mat and his eyes widen.

“You-“

“You’re back!” Feng Xin can’t control his excitement and it spreads across his face in the form of a huge smile.

Mu Qing’s familiar blush begins to suffuse his pale skin and he ducks his gaze. “You need to pay me.” He says shortly.

Feng Xin doesn’t hesitate, thrusting the same number of coins as last time towards Mu Qing.

Mu Qing blinks up at him and because Feng Xin can’t control himself any longer he tugs the other to him and kisses him, Mu Qing’s hand holding the coins coming up to curl against his chest.

“Mmn.” Mu Qing gasps, “Feng Xin you…” He trails off.

“You remembered my name.” Feng Xin says huskily.

Mu Qing’s blush darkens but he doesn’t pull away when Feng Xin leans in again.

“Do you remember my name?” Mu Qing asks rather snippily between kisses.

Feng Xin just chuckles, “Mu Qing.” He breathes into the space between them.

The night dissolves from there.

“I want to see you again.” Feng Xin says where he has an arm slung over Mu Qing’s naked waist. He’d made the other man come three times and Mu Qing is fucked out and passive. Eyes drooping shut as he look up at Feng Xin under his lashes in a gesture so coquettish it has to be unintentional.

“Hmm.” Mu Qing hums lazily, like warm honey, “I told you before, I don’t have a set schedule.”

“You come here when you need to make extra money?” Feng Xin guesses.

Mu Qing stiffens but doesn’t pull away so Feng Xin continues, “I’ll pay to see you again if you’re amenable to it.”

Mu Qing bites his lip, “How often?” He ends up asking.

Warmth suffuses Feng Xin, “How often are you comfortable with?” He ends up asking, pulling Mu Qing closer. He keeps in mind that Mu Qing is the weaker party in this, Feng Xin needs to be good to him. Mu Qing is the one who needs the money badly enough to rent a room in this brothel and spread his legs for whoever pays enough. The thought makes him want to scowl.

“Every twelve days.” Mu Qing ends up saying. He’s still blushing.

“So twelve days from now?” Feng Xin confirms.

Mu Qing nods.

Feng Xin smiles, “Alright.” And he leans in for another lazy kiss. Mu Qing is intoxicating, his mouth is soft and his body warm. Maybe Feng Xin is more touched starved than he realised because the feeling of Mu Qing wrapped around him, clinging him, is better than anything else.

Either way he’s ecstatic that this won’t be the last time.

“What do you do during your normal days?” Feng Xin asks after they’ve been kissing for a while.

Mu Qing is fiddling with his own hair and he ducks his eyes as he speaks, “I’m a tailor.”

“Huh,” Feng Xin thinks back to the last time (first time), “Is that why you had that pile of cloth last time?”

Mu Qing blinks at him, “You- yes. That’s why.” He seems slightly unnerved that Feng Xin remembered.

 “How did you get into it?” Feng Xin ventures to ask.

“My mother was a seamstress.” Mu Qing answers.

Was.

“Is she retired?”

“She’s dead.” Mu Qing’s voice is flat, body beginning to stiffen.

Feng Xin winces internally.

“My parents are also both deceased.” He ends up saying, “They passed before the war.”

Mu Qing snorts, “Good for them.” Feng Xin would berate him for that comment except he continues before he can, “So did my mother, a long time before which I’m glad of. The war was terrible.”

Feng Xin hums. He doesn’t disagree. “Have you always lived here?” He asks.

Mu Qing rolls his eyes, “If you’re trying to ask if I’m originally from Xian Le the answer is yes, same as you.”

“How did you know-“

“Your accent.” Mu Qing answers quickly, “Mannerisms and the like.”

“Ah.” Feng Xin isn’t sure what to say so instead he nudges Mu Qing a little, “You’re from Xian Le?”

“Yes.” Mu Qing sighs, “Not that it’s done me much good.”

Feng Xin bites his lip. Mu Qing isn’t wrong. While Xie Lian and the royal family had certainly suffered he’s heard enough from his best friend to know that what the common Xian Le people had faced was equally as terrible if they couldn’t flee.

“Are you… bothered because of it? People make trouble for you?”

Mu Qing shakes his head and his hair tickles Feng Xin’s bare skin, “No. The worst thing is the lack of work, not many people need a tailor in war times.” His voice is dry.

Feng Xin can’t help but laugh slightly.

They kiss again. He’s not sure who initiates it this time.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs as he pulls back and is greeted by Mu Qing’s reddened lips and flushed cheeks. The other ducks his head.

“You don’t have to say that kind of thing.” He says, maybe it’s meant to be sharp but like many of the other comments he makes when he’s like this it comes out too breathless to be truly cutting.

“What do you mean?” Feng Xin asks as he moves his mouth to Mu Qing’s neck, kissing down the soft skin.

“I mean-“ Mu Qing squirms, “You’ve already paid, I’m here. You don’t have to say things like that!”

“If I don’t have to then you should believe that what I do I’m doing it just because I want to.” Feng Xin argued back languidly, more focused on the miles of fragrant naked skin in front of him. Mu Qing wasn’t all that soft, in fact he was completely different from sleeping with a woman, but his skin was smooth and his face pretty and Feng Xin was so attracted to him it made his head spin.

Mu Qing just huffed but when Feng Xin reached to cup his face he leaned in to kiss him first.

Feng Xin smiled against it.

*

“You seem happy Feng Xin.” Xie Lian commented. Her Majesty was currently asleep and they were, for the first time in what felt like a long time, sitting together just the two of them.

“I-“ Feng Xin wasn’t sure what to say. He had seen Mu Qing two days ago and whether it was the lingering effect of the orgasms or something else his good mood usually persisted many days past their meetings. “Yes. How are you feeling Your Highness?”

Xie Lian shook his head, looking down, “Do you mind if we don’t talk about me? I’m not sure what to say.”

Feng Xin felt something in his chest ache, “Of course.” It was so hard to see Xie Lian like this. To see the other man brought low like this. Xie Lian was a prince. Xie Lian was a god. It wasn’t… natural to see him so worn down, dwelling in the mud and living on scraps. It pulled at something uncomfortable inside of Feng Xin.

“I’ve been seeing someone.” Feng Xin ended up blurting out before blushing abruptly. What was that?

However it seemed to have distracted and cheered up His Highness at least. Xie Lian looked at him with eyes that hadn’t become any less gentle no matter how much suffering he’d had to endure. “Oh?” He didn’t sound actually curious, more politely inquiring because it was the thing to do. Feng Xin swallowed thickly.

“Yes. They’re… they’re called Mu Qing.” He really shouldn’t be speaking about this.

“That’s wonderful Feng Xin.” Here Xie Lian’s smile became more sincere, “You deserve that. To be happy.” His Highness got quiet again in a way that Feng Xin knew meant he was thinking about the past.

“Your Highness.” Feng Xin reached out to grip his shoulder, hoping to bring Xie Lian out of that dark place.

“Apologies.” Xie Lian shook his head, “I don’t-“

“It’s alright.” Feng Xin said, “You should go inside and get some sleep.”

Xie Lian nodded rather stiffly and without protest went inside leaving Feng Xin on his own.

He sighed and rested his forehead on his knees. He suddenly felt very very empty and very very alone.

*

“I’m worried about him.” Feng Xin told Mu Qing as the two of them (for lack of a better word) cuddled after sex, “He’s been acting… not right recently.”

Mu Qing hummed. He was a good listener when it came to Feng Xin’s ramblings about the two people he lived with (that he took care not to name).

“I’m worried he’ll do something… bad. Or dangerous. I know Her- I mean his mother is worried as well.”

“The war did a lot of damage to a lot of people.” Was Mu Qing’s response.

Feng Xin nodded. He felt better just for having talked a little about it. “It’s just… strange.” He said, “I’m not used to seeing him like this.”

Mu Qing hummed and then in a tone that was far too casual to be so he said, “I suppose it would be, seeing the former Prince of Xian Le like that.”

Feng Xin’s eyes widened and in his sex muddled mind he couldn’t do anything but pull back slightly to meet Mu Qing’s eyes, “You knew?! How the hell do you know?? How long have you known?” It was enough to pull him out of his post-orgasm haze. They were currently technically in hiding. If anyone knew who Her Majesty and Xie Lian were they’d be in danger.

Mu Qing was watching the thoughts crawl over his face with something approaching panic, “I recognised you!” The other finally blurted out, “The first time you came, I recognised you.” He seemed to immediately regret what he had said and ducked his head, glaring at the wall.

“You recognised… me?” Feng Xin asked, completely bewildered.

Mu Qing nodded, “I’m from Xian Le, remember? You were always by the Prince’s side. I recognised you.” He was still looking away.

“Oh.” Feng Xin hadn’t considered that, “I didn’t realise I was so recognisable.” His mind immediately starts running through that as a security risk, Her Majesty and Xie Lian are mostly unrecognisable at this point without their rich robes and jewellery but Feng Xin has stayed mostly the same.

Mu Qing must sense some of that worry because he hastens to add, “I don’t think other people would recognise you, just me.” He then blushes further and glares harder.

Feng Xin kind of likes how thin-faced Mu Qing is because it allowed for blushes like this one to be commonplace.

He absorbs that, “I see.”

Mu Qing is already turning like he wants to pre-empt Feng Xin pushing him away and why on earth would Feng Xin do that? If there’s one thing he’s realised about Mu Qing these past few meetings it’s that the other always thinks the worst will happen, always thinks Feng Xin will be crueller than he is. It makes something in Feng Xin ache slightly.

Living in poverty now has been a particular struggle for Feng Xin and he’s realised (as he spends time with Mu Qing) that he’s grown up rather privileged. It’s not really something he had ever thought about before but spending so much time with someone who had come definitively from a background of poverty hammered home that Feng Xin really knew nothing about being poor.

Feng Xin pulls Mu Qing closer before he can squirm out of his arms, “Let me have you again?” He murmurs into his ear, wanting to move past this part of the conversation and finding that sex is the easiest way to.

This time Mu Qing was the one to turn back and press their lips together and Feng Xin sank into it.

*

“He fucking stole something!” Feng Xin didn’t bother to try and hold back as soon as he marched into the room in the brothel to find Mu Qing having not even unpacked his usual mat yet, “Did you hear me??”

Mu Qing continued to calmly get out and unroll the sleeping mat, “I heard you.”

“He stole something!” Feng Xin repeated, “His Highness! Stole something!”

“Be quiet.” Mu Qing scolded, “We’re in a brothel, everyone can hear you if you shout.”

Feng Xin knew from personal experience that while noises travelled through the walls in the brothel, words tended to be muffled and indistinct. He quietened himself anyway with great effort. “His Highness stole something.”

“Why do you keep repeating that?” Mu Qing asked, not even looking up from where he was placing the candle in the corner of the room, “So what?”

“So what?!” Feng Xin was on the verge of exploding but when Mu Qing looked back at him with an eyebrow raised he forcibly tried to calm himself. He shouldn’t be barging in here and just shouting.

“Yes, I said so what? You’re fugitives with presumably very few ways of earning income. Isn’t survival more important than whatever stupid morals you’re trying to adhere to.”

“You don’t understand.” Feng Xin argued back, “His Highness can’t steal. It’s not right, it’s-“

“Survival.” Mu Qing said again dispassionately. “People will do any manner of things to keep living and isn’t he also trying to support his mother?”

“You don’t fucking understand.” Feng Xin said again furiously. “He would never act like this, after everything that happened he’s been changing and-“

“Of course he has!” Mu Qing interrupted again, “He watched his Kingdom fall and was banished from Heaven! He’s gone from a pampered prince to your average beggar! Of course he’s changed, it would be impossible not to!”

“But he wouldn’t like the way he’s changed.” Feng Xin argued, “He’s not in his right mind, once he wakes up he’ll think back to what he did and he’ll hate it.”

“Then that’s his burden to bear.” Mu Qing crossed his arms over his chest, “Why are you trying to manage what he does and disapprove like this anyway? You’re hardly his father, tell his mother. She’ll disciple him.”

“I can’t tell Her Majesty!” Feng Xin said with no little horror, “She’d be devastated!”

“Then she’s a fool as well!” Mu Qing threw his hands up, “You can’t act like you’re still royalty when you can no longer live that way, wake up!”

“Don’t talk about Her Majesty like that!” Feng Xin got up in Mu Qing’s face.

Mu Qing just glared back unafraid, “Or what? You’ll arrest me for treason? On what power?” He rolls his eyes as if in disgust.

Feng Xin didn’t know what to do so with a snarl he grabbed the back of Mu Qing’s head and smashed their lips together. The kiss was messy and rough and a far cry from the way he usually kissed Mu Qing; all slow and soft and gentle. He didn’t want to be gentle this time. He wanted to bite at Mu Qing, press bruises into his skin. This man was infuriating.

Mu Qing gasped as they separated, “You- you need to pay me.” He said in a breathy voice.

It splashed cold water on Feng Xin even as it stoked the fire of his anger and subsequently arousal higher, “Of course I do.” He said lowly reaching to pull out the money and all but thrusting it into Mu Qing’s hands. “Is that sufficient?” He asked.

Mu Qing swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing. When he opened his mouth it looked- well it looked like he was going to say something real. Feng Xin waited, almost breathless.

“I need to get paid, same as every other working person.” Mu Qing said, voice slightly shaky but still caustic, “The fact that you don’t understand that says everything it needs to.”

Feng Xin felt incredibly betrayed all of a sudden which didn’t make any sense, it was only that… maybe he had foolishly entertained some idea that he was more to Mu Qing than he actually was after all these months. It was obviously a stupid idea.

He was still painfully hard.

He surged forward almost resentfully, pinning the other to him with an arm around his waist while his other hand yanked cruelly at Mu Qing’s ponytail prompting a gasp. As usual Mu Qing melted completely into him which wasn’t as satisfying as it usually was though it did give him a glimmer of something warm.

Feng Xin wasn’t gentle this time, he bit viciously at Mu Qing’s neck, hands all but tearing his clothes off as he pushed the other down into his hands and knees on the mat. This was the first time they’d done it in this position, Feng Xin didn’t like having sex when he couldn’t see the other’s face, but for now he was angry and he didn’t want to see Mu Qing’s face.

He pressed a hand to the back of the other’s neck, pushing down so their spine curved attractively.

Like this, he mused almost meanly to himself, he could almost believe Mu Qing was a woman with his figure. He immediately felt a little… wrongfooted at the thought and gentled the grip he had on Mu Qing’s neck.

Before the other could react his other hand drifted down to their entrance which had been pre-prepared. He had asked Mu Qing before if he could do it but Mu Qing had refused. He knew, deep down, that the reason was because Mu Qing was acting just in case Feng Xin didn’t show up and he would have to sleep with someone else for money. He couldn’t guarantee Feng Xin would show up and he couldn’t guarantee that whoever else he got would be gentle.

Feng Xin was filled with the strangest mix of anger, upset and… he couldn’t even describe it. He was angry at Mu Qing, angry at His Highness, angry at himself.

He couldn’t stop the emotions but he could thrust himself into Mu Qing, the familiar sensation wiping his brain clean for a moment.

“Ah!” Mu Qing made a noise at the penetration, “Feng Xin!”

Feng Xin began to thrust, moving the hand from the back of Mu Qing’s neck to his hip and using his grip to roughly pull Mu Qing’s body back even as he thrust forwards. This caused Mu Qing to slide back on his knees as his legs splayed even wider, spine curving dramatically and his upper body collapsed forward with his cheek pressed to the mat.

“Hah! Ah!”

Feng Xin continued to thrust as Mu Qing melted into a puddle under him. On another mean whim he grabbed hold of his cock and tugged it roughly, pushing the other quickly into orgasm that left him practically wailing as he clenched around Feng Xin.

Feng Xin didn’t stop thrusting even as Mu Qing was edged into overstimulation with the harsh movements. He kept thrusting as Mu Qing let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob, as his cock hardened again and Feng Xin fought off his own orgasm with his anger.

He wanted… he wanted something he couldn’t have. He wanted to own Mu Qing or at least a part of him. Wanted Mu Qing to willingly give him a part of him. Wanted to not feel as though the man under him looked at him and saw nothing more than a coin purse. He felt out of control, useless, impotent in the face of fate that had unspooled his life and the lives of those he cared about again and again.

He was glad his parents were dead.

If they had been around to witness what had happened to Xian Le it would have broken their hearts.

Mu Qing wailed loudly as Feng Xin threw him off the edge of a second orgasm, completely untouched, and only then did he grunt and let the climax that had been flickering at the edges of his awareness sputter to life.

It didn’t feel all that satisfying.

He still collapses over Mu Qing, panting. The other is gasping little half sobs and sounds so deliriously sexy doing so that if Feng Xin was in the mood he would immediately want to go again.

But he’s not in the mood.

The sex had felt meaningless. Hollow almost. It leaves an uncertain pit in his belly.

“You big oaf.” Mu Qing is gasping, “Get off me! You’re squashing me!”

Feng Xin pulls out and rolls to the side.

Immediately Mu Qing twists around and attaches himself to Feng Xin, hooking a leg over his and squirming into his embrace.

Something in Feng Xin twists abruptly. It’s painful in a way that feels good.

“Shut up.” Mu Qing mumbles into his chest although he hadn’t said anything.

They lie like that for a while longer, Mu Qing breathing deeply and evenly into Feng Xin’s skin while Feng Xin tries to understand what’s happening. Mu Qing is rarely this affectionate without Feng Xin initiating beforehand. He supposes he must have fucked Mu Qing to a state of stickiness, after all it’s rare that he doesn’t reach for and grab Mu Qing first after they finish. He’s never had cause to know if Mu Qing is at all sticky after sex.

Something in Feng Xin loosens, appeased. He slides an arm around Mu Qing’s slim waist and closes his eyes rather than stare up at the dimly lit brothel ceiling where the shadows flicker in time to the tiny candle in the corner.

“How much does the brothel charge you to rent this room?” He asks Mu Qing.

The other man stirs slightly, “Not too much.” He answers before pausing and continuing, “It’s gone up now that I have a regular.”

Feng Xin… Feng Xin really shouldn’t ask. Mu Qing is prickly and sensitive and often easy to rub the wrong way. Even if the other man is clinging to him right now that’s because of the sex, not because of any attachment to Feng Xin himself.

He’s never been very good at holding himself back.

“If she charges you then, we could do it somewhere else so you can keep all the money I pay you. Otherwise it’d hardly be worth it.”

Mu Qing’s head comes up then, his eyes are narrowed a little but his face is still overall soft.

“Where?”

“We could go to wherever you live.” Feng Xin suggests (sensibly).

Mu Qing bites his lip and a long silence ensues.

Feng Xin’s stomach sinks. He’s about to tell Mu Qing to forget it because he should have known better than to ask for something like that but just as he’s opening his mouth Mu Qing answers. He’s glaring at the opposite wall again but he answers.

“Alright. Next time I’ll meet you by the butchers stand and we can go to mine.”

Feng Xin’s heart freezes and then abruptly bursts into warmth, flooding his chest, “Twelve days right?”

“Yes.” Mu Qing says stiffly.

Feng Xin can’t help it, his earlier anger has all but dissipated on the wind and he cranes his neck to press a lingering kiss to Mu Qing’s lips where the other’s head is pillowed on his chest.

*

“Your Majesty!” Feng Xin rushes forward to catch her at the same time that Xie Lian does.

“A-Niang, what is it?” Xie Lian asks, hands fluttering uselessly over his mother’s body, “What happened?”

“Ah, nothing Lian’er, it’s nothing.”

Feng Xin reached to check Her Majesty’s pulse before stopping himself, “May I?” He asked.

Her Majesty sighed, “No need to ask.” She then painfully heaved herself to sitting, “I know what the issue is.” She reached down to her leg and pulled up her skirts to reveal a long white silk bandage wrapped tightly around her lower leg.

“A-Niang!” Xie Lian’s hands went to the bandage immediately, “When did this happen?”

Her Majesty sighed, “A few days ago, it’s nothing to bother yourself with Lian’er. Really.”

“But- but A-Niang.” Xie Lian had deep bags under his eyes, his face was sunken and his skin was pale. He looked awful.

“Lian’er.” Her Majesty’s hand went to his hair, “Would you please go to the market and pick up some food? Please?”

“Of course.” Xie Lian stood, still looking pale and awful, “Feng Xin, please take care of A-Niang.”

“Of course Your Highness.” Feng Xin said seriously.

Xie Lian nodded and left with hunched shoulders.

Once he was gone Feng Xin turned to Her Majesty, “May I?”

Her Majesty nodded, “Go ahead.” She somehow still managed to sound stately even now.

Feng Xin nodded and unwound the bandage. The smell appeared as the stained white silk was pulled away bit by bit to reveal the infected wound below.

“Your Majesty.” Feng Xin said uselessly, “I-“

“I don’t want my son to know about this.” Her Majesty’s eyes were sharp, “Do you understand Feng Xin?”

“Yes Your Majesty.” Feng Xin said almost miserably, “But your wound is infected, it’s not-“

“I know.” Her Majesty took a deep breath, “I wouldn’t have wanted to go this way either.”

“Your Majesty, no! You won’t-“

“Feng Xin, my son. My son will be kept safe, do you understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good, good.” Her Majesty gestured to the bandage, “Wrap it up again.”

“Your Majesty this bandage is dirty, it’ll only exacerbate your injury. I need to wash the wound as well.”

“Very well. But do it quickly before Lian’er comes back.”

Feng Xin nodded and stoked the fire to boil some water. He didn’t know what Xie Lian would do if he knew. Probably something dangerous and reckless. His Highness hadn’t been well. He’s not sure what he’d do if he knew his mother was dying.

“Your Majesty, forgive my presumption but His Highness would… not do well with you gone.”

Her Majesty sighed and it sounded painful, “I know.”

Feng Xin returned to her side with the pot of hot water and began to carefully clean the wound. Her Majesty hissed in pain and at Feng Xin’s apologetic look prompted him to continue.

“If Your Majesty knows then-“

“Feng Xin. If not this, it would be something else. My son is an immortal, a man with great martial prowess and a place in the Heavens. You as well have superb martial skills. Making a living would be easy for the two of you. However I am a single woman with no martial skills or spiritual power to speak of. Do you understand?”

“If Your Majesty goes it will hurt His Highness greatly.” Was all Feng Xin could say.

“Yes.”

Feng Xin washed the dirty bandage and put it by the fire to dry. “Allow me to apply some healing herbs.” He suggested.

Her Majesty nodded and he was allowed to form a rough soldiers’ poultice and spread it over the wound. It struck him for a second how queer this was. Her Majesty had been born to a noble family, had been attended to by the best physicians from the moment of her birth to her marriage and birth of the crown prince and beyond. And now she was lying on the floor of a dirty shack having her son’s bodyguard roughly treat a deadly wound like he would one of his soldiers on the battlefield. He doubted Her Majesty had ever even been wounded before in her entire life.

Feng Xin swallowed, “Your Majesty…”

“You’re a good man Feng Xin, you’ve been by my son’s side all this time. Thank you.”

“It’s my job Your Majesty.”

Her Majesty sighed, “Yes, I suppose so.”

Feng Xin wasn’t quite sure what she meant. He had the sudden thought that he wished he could talk to Mu Qing.

The bandage was dry by the point, the thin silk having warmed next to the fire, so he began to rewrap the wound. It wasn’t perfect and certainly wasn’t all he wanted to do but this was all he could do for now.

“How is the person you’re seeing?” Her Majesty suddenly asked.

Feng Xin startled and almost ripped the silk, “Your Majesty! I-“

Her Majesty laughed a little, “No need to act so shocked Feng Xin, I understand since that first night I sent you out that you’ve been seeing someone.”

Feng Xin swallowed, “Yes.”

“Good.” Her Majesty sighed, leaning back as Feng Xin finished wrapping the wound, “That’s good. What are they like?”

Feng Xin stopped, he wasn’t sure what to say. How could he describe Mu Qing?

“They’re quite thin-faced.” He said, “Sarcastic. But they’re clever and say funny things. I… I like being around them.” He abruptly felt as though he had said too much and ducked his head to stare at his hands.

Her Majesty made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and something else, “I’m glad. I was rather upset when Xie Lian chose his path of cultivation. Do you know why?”

“No Your Majesty.”

“It was because he chose to be abstinent and he told me he would never marry. Now any mother would want grandchildren but that wasn’t what specifically made me upset. It was that Xie Lian would walk his life alone. I thought it would be alright even so because he was a prince, he would be a king and then he was a god. How could a god ever be alone? But still.” Her Majesty groans as she tries to sit up and Feng Xin immediately moves to assist her, “Now… all I want is for my son to be happy and well taken care of. I don’t want him to be alone, I’m terrified of that. But he’s chosen this path so what can be done? I just don’t want him to walk alone.” Her Majesty took a shaky breath. Feng Xin felt that this was entirely too personal for him to listen to but he couldn’t leave, “Ah, every mother’s fears are the same no matter who they are aren’t they?” She murmured. So quietly Feng Xin assumed it was mostly meant to be for herself.

It was at that moment Xie Lian came back, “A-Niang? How are you feeling?”

Feng Xin moved away from Her Majesty’s side so Xie Lian could take his place.

“Feng Xin.” Her Majesty said then, “Do you have somewhere to be tonight?”

Feng Xin thought about it and then with a rush it came to him. Mu Qing! It had been twelve days. Today he was going to the other’s place.

He jumped up, “Yes. But,” He hesitated looking at Her Majesty, “I could stay.”

“Nonsense.” Her Majesty smiled at him and it was as sharp as usual, “Pease go.”

Feng Xin left.

He practically ran his way to the butcher’s stall. He couldn’t believe that with everything he had almost forgotten today he was meant to be meeting Mu Qing. The excitement flooded back in a sweet rush.

When he got to the market area he slowed to a quick walk and made his way to the stall. Mu Qing wasn’t there yet though the market was busy and he stood to the side, loitering as he waited.

In no time a voice called, “Feng Xin.”

Feng Xin turned with a smile, “Mu Qing!”

Mu Qing shifted slightly in place, “Follow me.” He commanded, turning and walking off.

“You didn’t keep me waiting too long.” Feng Xin made conversation as they walked. He then had a sudden funny thought, “You weren’t waiting somewhere else watching the stand were you?” He could imagine that perfectly. Mu Qing not wanting Feng Xin to see he had been waiting first so watching the butcher’s stall from a distance and only revealing himself when Feng Xin had finally appeared.

He said it as a joke but Mu Qing’s shoulders stiffened in a familiar way. It was the way he acted when Feng Xin had just started kissing him and had said something Mu Qing was trying to pretend he didn’t react to.

“Holy shit you did.” He couldn’t help but say out loud.

Mu Qing stiffened further and didn’t say anything.

“Hey Mu Qing.” Feng Xin caught his hand and spun him around to face him. Mu Qing’s face was bright red and he looked furious.

“I didn’t fucking do that.” He hissed, “I wouldn’t be so pathetic-“

Feng Xin kissed him before he could continue, licking into his mouth with feeling and pulling Mu Qing closer by his waist, “You’re perfect.” He said against Mu Qing’s lips as he pulled away.

Maybe it was listening to Her Majesty earlier and seeing the wound. Maybe it was the strange emotional hangover from that but at this moment Feng Xin can confidently say nothing could look as beautiful as Mu Qing in the fading evening light with his wide surprised eyes and kiss swollen lips.

“Beautiful.” Feng Xin praised, hand reaching up to stroke down the length of Mu Qing’s ponytail.

Mu Qing flushed a deeper colour, “Hurry up, it’s getting dark.” Was all he said, hurrying along the deserted path out of the village proper.

Feng Xin kept Mu Qing’s hand held firmly in his and laced their fingers together which Mu Qing didn’t protest. They walked for quite a while in silence out towards a cluster of small houses.

“Here.” Mu Qing led him into one and then up a rickety set of stairs, “I live upstairs. My neighbour downstairs is very old, she won’t wake up.” He blushed even more deeply as he led Feng Qing through another door into his room.

“Oh? You think we’ll be that loud?” Feng Xin hooked both arms around Mu Qing’s waist and pulled him back so the two of them had to hobble forward like some gruesome many legged monster.

Mu Qing shot him a glare over his shoulder, “You’re the loud one!” He protested, “Always grunting like some kind of pig.”

“And you cry even louder if I fuck you just right.” Feng Xin replied.

Mu Qing didn’t even try and say anything in response, just squirmed harder in Feng Xin’s arms. But Feng Xin was the one who was martially trained, not Mu Qing, so he overpowered him easily and kissed him up against the wall of his small house. He then fucked him against that same wall.

Later as they lay on Mu Qing’s own tiny bed which consisted of a sleeping mat piled with blankets Feng Xin found himself saying something he hadn’t expected to.

“Her Majesty is dying.” Feng Xin said, voice low.

“What?!” That prompted Mu Qing to half sit up so he was facing Feng Xin, “What do you mean?”

The bright moonlight that filtered in through the window illuminated the panes of Mu Qing’s delicate face. Feng Xin reached up to cup his cheek.

“She has an infected wound on her leg. She… she told me she expects to die.”

“Does His Highness know?” Mu Qing asked, voice steady.

Feng Xin sighed and drew his arms around Mu Qing to pull him down to lie against him again, “No. Her Majesty told me not to tell him, she doesn’t want him to know.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s going to destroy him when she dies.” Feng Xin says.

Mu Qing was quiet for a while before finally speaking, “Yes. It will.” There was another pause, “What kind of person is he? His Highness?”

Feng Xin had never really been asked to describe Xie Lian as a person before. That was odd since he had known the prince since he was fourteen and was maybe the closest person to him in the whole world. Xie Lian was certainly Feng Xin’s closest friend.

“He’s kind. Very kind, he can’t stand to see suffering. He’s patient. Gentle. Spoiled for obvious reasons. Gracious. Good at keeping his temper.” Feng Xin laughed then, “He’s also strange, I mean as the crown Prince he could have whatever he wanted right? But when we were children he said his goal was to save the common people and he just… gave all that up. Became abstinent, followed a stringent cultivation path, doesn’t drink too. All the things he could have had as King. Obsessed with swords too.”

“Sounds naïve.” Was Mu Qing’s only comment.

Maybe if this had been the first time they had met or maybe if Mu Qing had said that before the banishment and everything Feng Xin’s reaction would have been very different. Right now, however, he could only sigh and pull Mu Qing closer.

“Yes.” He said and that hidden bud of frustration inside of him unfurled slightly, “He’s- he’s very naïve. Things like war are too complex to be solved easily, there’s no good way to do it. No simple answer.” It felt wrong to say even this about Xie Lian, something in Feng Xin rebelled dramatically.

“But he acted like it was, like problems could be easily solved.” Mu Qing said from where he was nestled against Feng Xin’s side.

Feng Xin sighed, “Yes. He… he’s changed a lot since… the banishment and everything that happened.”

“Hmm.” Mu Qing’s cheek was pressed to the bare skin of Feng Xin’s chest and when he spoke little puffs of air danced across his skin. It was somehow soothing.

“He’s not as confident anymore. He’s sad and… and I don’t know what to do.” Feng Xin confessed, “I just want to be there and help but… he tried to steal. And he drank alcohol and that’s just… it’s not him.”

Mu Qing hummed again in acknowledgement, the sound vibrating through them. “It was inevitable.” Mu Qing said then.

Feng Xin frowned, “What do you mean?”

“The banishment and everything that happened.” Mu Qing said, “If he hadn’t descended and tried to help, people would still have burned his temples for turning his backs on them. Everything would have happened the same except that instead of being banished he would just have lost power as a god.”

Feng Xin stayed silent.

Mu Qing sighed, “It was stupid for him to descend and risk banishment. It didn’t help anyone but,” And here he paused strangely but continued, “It meant something. To people. It meant something to people that he would do that.”

Feng Xin just held Mu Qing even tighter, pressing their bodies together firmly and burying his nose in the other’s hair, “He’s a good person.” He finished with, “But I’m worried about him.”

Mu Qing hummed, “That makes sense. You’re-“ And here he paused again for a long time, seeming to steel himself before finishing with, “A loyal person.”

“Oh?” Feng Xin couldn’t help but smile, pulling Mu Qing more firmly on top of him so they were sprawled nose to nose, “A compliment from you?”

“Shut up.” Mu Qing shoved at him, “Don’t be so irritating.”

Feng Xin just reached up to kiss him and when Mu Qing relaxed into him it was more than good enough for now.

*

The next morning as Feng Xin got dressed he was treated to the pleasure of seeing Mu Qing lying mostly naked under the blanket and hazily blinking at him, neck decorated by dark teeth marks. He wanted this all the time. He wanted to see Mu Qing like this always. He wanted to share a home with Mu Qing, have Mu Qing to wake up next to everyday with his pale skin marked by their pleasure.

Mu Qing yawned cutely, unaware of these thoughts, and closed his eyes again, “Do you remember the way back?” He asked with his eyes closed and faced half-buried under blankets.

“Yes.” Feng Xin goes up to him and drops a kiss on his forehead, not thinking too deeply about the action.

“Good.” Mu Qing curls more deeply into the blankets, “I wouldn’t have bothered to show you otherwise.”

Feng Xin snorts, “You’re awful.” Is what he says before turning to leave. He then abruptly remembers something. “I almost didn’t pay you.” He said, “I can’t believe you didn’t remind me-“

“Keep it.” Mu Qing’s voice came from the huddle of blankets.

“What, but-“

“Keep it. I don’t need it this time. Now get out.”

Feng Xin stopped, looking down at the blanket lump that was Mu Qing and feeling something within him soften inexplicably. “Alright. Next time then, twelve days?”

“Twelve days.” Mu Qing echoed, then he said hesitantly, “But… you know where I live now. So If you were to come by when I’m here then I.. I wouldn’t… mind….s-so m-much.”

Feng Xin was abruptly struck dumb by the sudden invitation and he was glad Mu Qing wasn’t looking because he wouldn’t have been able to conceal the wide smile that had spread across his face.

“Alright. I’ll see you.”

Mu Qing didn’t say anything in response but even so Feng Xin left in high spirits.

However as soon as he got back to the shack he heard raised voices from inside; running in to see Her Majesty holding a thrashing Xie Lian.

“Your Majesty! Your Highness!” Feng Xin immediately leapt in, reaching forward to grab Xie Lian, “What’s going on?”

“Feng Xin.” Her Majesty’s face was pale and beaded with sweat, “I’m glad you’re back.

“Your Highness what happened?” Feng Xin asked, slightly terrified by the naked fear on Xie Lian’s face.

“I saw him.” Xie Lian’s voice was shaky, “Bai Wuxiang.”

Feng Xin sucked in a breath, “Where? Where did you see him?”

“In- in the window. Looking in.” Xie Lian was still pale and looked awful.

Feng Xin wasn’t sure what to do but first of all he focused on Her Majesty, head reeling. “Let’s get Her Majesty to bed first.” He said, swallowing thickly.

Xie Lian nodded though it was a jerky movement and together the two of them moved Her Majesty to the bedroom and onto the bed, piling a blanket on top of her.

“Your Highness-“ Feng Xin said when it was just the two of them alone.

“Feng Xin.” Xie Lian’s voice was shaky, “I’m- I’m scared.”

“Your Highness.” Feng Xin put a hand on his shoulder, “It’ll be alright. I won’t let anything happen to you.” They both knew that wasn’t a promise he could make.

Xie Lian shivered and wrapped his arms around himself, “I don’t know what to do. I’m- I’m scared for A-Niang.”

Feng Xin swallowed thickly, “I know, here.” He passed him the money he would have given to Mu Qing, “Go to the market and get some healing herbs, I’ll redress the wound.”

Xie Lian nodded, “Will- Can you come with me?” He asked in a painfully small voice before laughing self-deprecatingly, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why-“

“I’ll come.” Feng Xin said quickly, “But… I don’t want to leave Her Majesty alone.”

Xie Lian’s eyes widened, “Of course.” He said before he shook his head roughly as if to shake water out of his ears, “I don’t- I’m sorry. I’ll go now. Please look after A-Niang for me.”

“I will.” Feng Xin promised.

Xie Lian nodded and then left. Feng Xin felt bad, he didn’t want to leave Xie Lian alone especially after what he had said about Bai Wuxiang but he also didn’t want to leave Her Majesty alone while she was slowly deteriorating.

He busies himself with preparing some food and when Xie Lian returns in a little while, still looking pale and shaken, he puts the small bowl of congee down in front of him.

“Thank you.” Xie Lian says as he eats slowly, “I’m- I’m sorry for the way I’ve been recently.”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Feng Xin says seriously, sitting down next to Xie Lian, “We’re in this together aren’t we? I’m not giving up and neither should you.”

That makes Xie Lian smile, “Alright.” He eats a little longer before turning to Feng Xin, “I feel as though I’ve been very inconsiderate recently, I’ve hardly asked about you. How’s… Mu Qing?”

Feng Xin is surprised Xie Lian remembers the name at all, “They’re fine.” He answers, “I saw them yesterday.”

“What do they do?” Xie Lian asks, “How did you meet?”

Feng Xin blushes a deep red, “We, uh, we met in… the market… They’re a tailor.”

“Oh.” Xie Lian blinks a little but smiles, “That’s nice. I admit… I wasn’t expecting-“

Feng Xin is deeply embarrassed by the thought of Xie Lian finding out he met Mu Qing in a brothel where he’s been paying for his company for the past months. Xie Lian wouldn’t pass judgement on Mu Qing for selling himself, he isn’t that kind of person, but Feng Xin still doesn’t want him to know.

Therefore he quickly changes the subject, “Why do you think Bai Wuxiang is back?”

Xie Lian pales again and Feng Xin feels guilty for all but using it to turn the conversation away from Mu Qing. Before he can say anything else though Xie Lian answers, “I don’t know. But I- I can’t-“ Xie Lian sucks in a deep breath and Feng Xin watches with an ache as his best friend literally drags himself back together, “I can’t just run for my entire life.”

“Your Highness-“

“Here are the herbs.” Xie Lian passes a small bag to Feng Xin, “Please use them to help A-Niang. I’m going to go cultivate.”

That makes Feng Xin smile, “You’re going to try again.”

“You said you’re not giving up, so neither am I.” Xie Lian declares.

Feng Xin keeps smiling, “That’s great Your Highness, I’ll look after Her Majesty. We can spar later.”

Xie Lian nods, “Alright.” And when he leaves with determination Feng Xin thinks he can see something of the god Xie Lian still is in the way he walks away.

*

Her Majesty gets worse over the next few days. The infection has spread to her blood, Feng Xin can tell by the darkened veins.

“Don’t tell Lian’er.” Her Majesty makes him promise.

It drives Feng Xin insane but he obeys the direct order. During most nights Her Majesty sends him away so it’s just her and Xie Lian and Feng Xin goes to see Mu Qing. Being with Mu Qing is like an oasis, a spot of bright in the dark, a breath of fresh air. The other is irreverent, caustic, rude but he also melts under Feng Xin. Feng Xin is given the privilege of watching the proud, cold, bratty man fall apart with a few simple touches and words; sobbing into Feng Xin’s skin as he pushes and pulls him just the right way.

He hasn’t paid Mu Qing since that first night in Mu Qing’s small set of rooms.

He thinks he’s in love. He has to be. He doesn’t know what else this feeling could possibly be but love. Mu Qing hides the softest parts of himself but Feng Xin knows they’re there, has seen precious glimpses of Mu Qing’s vulnerable underbelly. That must be love, right?

Life passes like the ebb and flow of the tide, like blood under a bruise, like drips of warmed honey. Always moving forward no matter how it may feel for those caught in its grasp. 

The day the Queen dies is an awful one.

Feng Xin is back from seeing Mu Qing and Xie Lian is there as well, back from whatever place he goes to cultivate alone. When Feng Xin asks Xie Lian just smiles and says it’s not far from here, just somewhere private. When he asks if he’s seen Bai Wuxiang again Xie Lian doesn’t answer but Feng Xin can see the truth in his expression. Still, Xie Lian seems to be doing better.

That’s why the Queen’s death is so particularly awful.

She’s standing, walking to the bedroom, when she suddenly collapses. Feng Xin has been expecting this for weeks but Xie Lian had no idea and is driven to panic.

“A-Niang? A-NIANG!” He pushes and pulls at his mother whose face is drooping and whose eyes are closed. “The wound the wound. It must be the wound!” He mumbles, pushing at her clothes to reveal the stained bandage and the red blood vessels carrying poison that have spread.

“No. No no no no.” Xie Lian sobs as he presses his forehead to his mothers, “No!’

It’s too late. The Queen has already faded. Her breathing has stopped.

Feng Xin wonders distantly how much pain she must have been in and how she hadn’t made a sound all these weeks and even as she died.

Xie Lian howls.

Feng Xin has never heard anything so awful.

Then suddenly Xie Lian gets up and all but runs outside as if chasing a figure only he can see.

“Your Highness! Xie Lian!” Feng Xin calls, he tries to chase after him but Xie Lian has disappeared.

Feng Xin retreats back to the shack and kneels by Her Majesty’s body.

“You knew how much this would hurt.” He says out loud, “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Her Majesty doesn’t respond.

Feng Xin bows his head, “He’ll be back.” He says out loud, “And then we’ll need to transport your body to the Royal Mausoleum to lie by His Majesty’s. That’s what Xie Lian would want.”

There’s nothing but silence.

“Fuck.” Feng Xin says and before he can stop himself he’s started sobbing. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” He bends in half and catches himself on his hands, “Shit fuck. Fuck.” He hadn’t even cried like this when his own parents had died.

But this… this feels almost too much now. Like some kind of Heavenly joke. Like Xian Le really is gone forever.

Feng Xin cries for a while longer before he pulls himself together and begins to clean up. He cleans up Her Majesty’s body and carries her to the sleeping mat, arranging her respectfully so she almost looks like she’s just asleep.

He’ll wait for Xie Lian to come back. He’ll be back soon. He’s sure of it. He’ll be back.

Days pass.

He looks for Xie Lian but he doesn’t want to leave Her Majesty’s body alone for too long so he can’t venture too far.

Xie Lian doesn’t return.

It’s cold right now so Feng Xin isn’t as worried about Her Majesty’s body decaying but as the time passes it becomes a serious consideration. What should he do? Apart from Xie Lian he might be the last person left alive who knows the location of the Royal Mausoleum for Xian Le’s many generations of rulers. What should he do? Should he just take Her Majesty there now by himself?

He finds himself longing for Mu Qing all of a sudden. Just to see him. Just to… just to have someone to talk to.

He leaves a note for Xie Lian in case he comes back while he’s gone and goes to Mu Qing’s house, hoping and praying that he’ll be there. He’s never visited this early in the day before.

Mu Qing isn’t there.

So Feng Xin sits down outside the house and waits. People come and go, a few ask him what he’s there for and when he says Mu Qing he gets a few probing looks.

It becomes very apparent that everyone in this small community is very fond of Mu Qing and certainly protective of him. It pricks Feng Xin with fondness that does something to chase away the resounding numbness of the past few days.

When Mu Qing finally comes home from wherever he’s been he starts to see Feng Xin leaning against the outside of his house.

“Feng Xin?” He hurries forward, “Why are you here so early?” His voice is vaguely accusing like Feng Xin has done something wrong.

“Her Majesty is dead.” Is all that Feng Xin can say, he’s marinated for too long in his feelings not to show weakness at Mu Qing’s obvious distaste at him being here, “And His Highness is missing. And I- I don’t know what to do.”

Mu Qing freezes before suddenly grabbing Feng Xin’s wrist and dragging him inside out of view of anyone else.

“Mu Qing-“

Before Feng Xin can say anything, else Mu Qing has pulled him in close, wrapping both arms around him and squeezing tight.

It’s too much.

It’s exactly what he wanted but didn’t know he did.

It’s everything he needs right now.

Feng Xin begins to sob.

Mu Qing squeezes him tighter but doesn’t say anything which Feng Xin is grateful for.

“Her Majesty is dead.” He repeats, his arms squeeze Mu Qing tight, tight enough that it must hurt a little, “She’s dead.”

Mu Qing doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t protest being crushed by Feng Xin.

Finally Feng Xin draws back taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry for just barging in, I didn’t- I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” It’s not a shameful thing to admit and in fact he knows it’s the kind of thing that would somewhat flatter Mu Qing.

It does. Mu Qing flushes a little and looks away. Feng Xin feels as though he has a clear handle on who Mu Qing is most of the time; his reactions and expectations, what makes him act some way or another. But he can easily say that while he may know how Mu Qing will act, he really doesn’t understand it. The other’s mind works completely contrary to his own.

“Here, I’ll make you some tea.” Mu Qing leads Feng Xin to a floor cushion and presses him down. They’d fucked on this cushion before, it’s a strange thought to be fixated on but Feng Xin assumes that Mu Qing has washed it since then.

He looks up and watches the other as he stokes his small stove and begins to heat some water.

“When did it happen?” Mu Qing asks as he carefully portions some tea leaves from a mostly empty container into two cracked cups. Feng Xin knows by now that refusing the tea on the grounds that he doesn’t want to finish Mu Qing’s obviously depleted store would just hurt the other’s pride. That’s another thing he doesn’t really understand.

“A few days ago, six I think.” Feng Xin scrubs a hand over his face, “I’ve managed to preserve the body up to now but it’ll start to decay and it needs to be placed in the Royal Mausoleum before that happens.

Mu Qing pauses where he’s been pouring the water into the two cups.

“The Xian Le Royal Mausoleum?”

“Yeah. I- Only His Highness and I know the location now; His Majesty has already been placed there after he passed during the war. Her Majesty needs to be put next to him.”

Mu Qing nods and finishes pouring before bringing the cups over.

“Is it far from here?” He asks Feng Xin as he passes him his cup.

Feng Xin nods in thanks and blows on the hot liquid. It warms his frigid fingertips to the point of discomfort.

“Not too far, less than four days travel I would say.” Feng Xin takes his sip, “I just don’t want to do it without His Highness even knowing, but he’s missing and he hasn’t been back at all the past six days.”

“When did he leave?” Mu Qing asks.

Feng Xin sighs, “It all happened so suddenly.” The memories are even hazy for him, painful of course, maybe more painful than watching Xie Lian’s banishment. “Her Majesty just… collapsed. Blood poisoning.”

“From the infected wound.” Mu Qing surmises.

Feng Xin nods, “His Highness had no idea, Her Majesty made me promise not to tell him so it was a complete shock. She just… dropped and then she was gone.” Feng Xin’s hands clench on the cup and he’s not sure what’ll come out of his mouth next but before anything does Mu Qing shuffles across and sits next to him on the crowded cushion, pressing their sides together. It feels good. It feels really good.

Feng Xin takes a shaky breath and presses back harder.

“She should have told him.” Mu Qing says, he’s not looking at Feng Xin, “That was stupid.”

“Yeah.” Feng Xin’s body still rebels a little at even a whisper of criticism of Her Majesty and her decisions but he can’t deny this point. “It was terrible. I’ve never- Xie Lian- He-“ Feng Xin takes another breath, “And he’s been doing so much better recently. Even with Bai Wuxiang.”

“The ghost?” Mu Qing prompts. Feng Xin has spoken about Bai Wuxiang before, briefly. He doesn’t think at this point there’s anything that he hasn’t told Mu Qing.

Feng Xin nods, “His Highness has been seeing him. I don’t- I don’t not believe him. But it’s just-“

“You’ve never seen him yourself.” Mu Qing supplies.

Feng Xin nods, “And His Highness hasn’t been in the right frame of mind recently. He hasn’t been well. You know that, I’ve certainly mentioned it more than once.”

Mu Qing nods, “What are you going to do?” He asks.

“I- I don’t know.” Feng Xin takes another scalding sip of tea, relishing the burn, “Fuck I don’t know.”

Mu Qing is staring at the far wall the way he does when he’s not sure if he wants to say something or not.

Feng Xin waits. Everything feels heavy anyway. He doesn’t know what he would say even if he did open his mouth.

“Do you need help?” Mu Qing asks then; voice so quiet Feng Xin could pretend he hadn’t even heard it. There’s no chance of that though.

He turns, abandoning his cup to grip Mu Qing by his upper arms, “You would?”

Mu Qing is still staring at the far wall, “I- I could help if-“

“Yes. Yes yes yes.” Feng Xin can’t help himself from leaning in and kissing Mu Qing hard on his stupid pretty thin lips, “Yes.”

Mu Qing is blushing again, “Okay. I can spare some time.”

Feng Xin feels all of a sudden completely invigorated by having Mu Qing by his side. It all seems a little more manageable now.

“I need to go back and see if His Highness is back, if not then-“ Feng Xin shakes his head, “We can see where to go from there.”

Mu Qing nods, “We?” He asks, tone a little like it usually is. Feng Xin just all of a sudden realises just how soft he’s been speaking since he dragged Feng Xin inside.

“You’ve offered me your help, you’re not getting out of it now.” Feng Xin says with great confidence.

Mu Qing scoffs and takes the empty cup back from Feng Xin, “We should get started then so you’ll leave me alone sooner.”

Feng Xin knows he doesn’t mean it. He loves Mu Qing so much in that moment he doesn’t know what to do with it except get up and pull him close so he can kiss him, again and again and again until the other is soft and malleable and the empty gaping wound in Feng Xin’s chest feels like it’s somewhat scabbed over.

“I need to clean up these cups.” Mu Qing says, he’s probably aiming for it to sound cutting but as usual when they’re like this it just sounds soft and breathless.

“Alright.” Feng Xin waits and then when Mu Qing is done spending far too long fussing around he grabs the other by the hand and tows them out.

“Stop tugging at me!” Mu Qing hisses like a feral cat but Feng Xin just snorts. A lot of that prickly exterior loses its effect after he’s had Mu Qing under him begging to come until he blacks out.

“It’s not too far.” Feng Xin says as they start walking, Mu Qing keeping pace beside him.

“What have you been eating the past few days?” Mu Qing suddenly asks.

“Hmm? We have some rice and some leftover dried foods.”

Mu Qing frowns, “That doesn’t sound like enough.” He glares at the floor, “I could have made you something before we left.”

“It’s fine.” Feng Xin’s heart swells, “I was in the army. It’ll take more than a few days of lacklustre food to cripple me.”

“Hmm.” Mu Qing finally looks back at him, “Can you do that thing that cultivators can? Not eat because you have spiritual energy?”

“Oh, you mean practising inedia. No I can’t, I’m not a cultivator. I don’t have spiritual energy.”

“Oh.” Mu Qing has that look where he wants to ask more questions but also doesn’t because he hates admitting there’s anything he doesn’t know even about a subject like this where he would conceivably know nothing.

“Cultivation is a completely different way of life; spiritual power is different from martial might.” Feng Xin explains because it’s better than thinking of anything else right now, “There are lots of different cultivation paths, for example His Highness’ path requires him to be pure or body and mind so that calls for abstinence and refraining from worldly temptation. That way you can cultivate spiritual energy and that’s how cultivators are able to do the things they do.”

“And become immortal?” Mu Qing asks.

Feng Xin nods, “Yes, but His Highness- when he was banished, they put a cursed shackle on him that restricts his spiritual energy.”

Mu Qing frowns, “I see.” He looks at Feng Xin, “So you’re not immortal?” He asks.

Feng Xin barks a laugh, “Nope.”

“If His Highness was a cultivator why didn’t you do it too?” Mu Qing asks, “Didn’t you say you grew up together?”

Feng Xin shrugs, “My parents weren’t cultivators. They were generals, soldiers. Guards to the Royal Family. I never thought about being a cultivator.”

Mu Qing hums and doesn’t say anything.

Feng Xin squeezes his hand and Mu Qing squeezes back. Feng Xin has the sudden thought that he doesn’t really know what he’ll say to Xie Lian if he is there. How would he explain Mu Qing’s presence?

It turns out to be a non-issue. It’s obvious when they enter the shack that Xie Lian hasn’t been back.

“This is where you live?” Mu Qing asks, looking around in obvious interest, “The Royal Family lived here?”

Mu Qing has this… thing sometimes where he seems to take a little perverse pleasure in other people’s suffering. Feng Xin doesn’t like it but he’s never known how to argue against it or point it out successfully without hurting the other and the last thing he wants to do is hurt Mu Qing.

For now any of Mu Qing’s less attractive qualities are overwritten by the echo of relief Feng Xin had felt when Mu Qing had held him as he cried.

“Here.” Feng Xin leads Mu Qing into the bedroom and there on the sleeping mat she still lies.

The Queen of Xian Le.

Mu Qing freezes completely, “That’s- that’s the Queen? She’s… she’s so… small.”

Feng Xin can’t even say anything to that. He lived his whole life with the Royal Family in reach but still larger than life with their rich robes and layers and layers of courtesies and traditions.

The Queen does seem smaller now. Her Majesty died just like anyone else and in death her body looks like any common woman’s except for the fact that it’s not.

“Yes.” Feng Xin doesn’t know what else to say.

Mu Qing steps closer and Feng Xin would tug him back instinctively except he’s been frozen once again by the fact that Her Majesty is dead. He hadn’t forgotten but having someone else see it…

“Her body is already beginning to decay.” Mu Qing says stiffly as he examines Her Majesty, “If you want to give her a good burial you have to do it quickly.”

Feng Xin nods, “His Highness-“

“Isn’t here. I’m assuming you’ve already looked for him but either way it can’t wait. Do you want him to come back and see his mother’s body being eaten by maggots?”

Feng Xin shakes his head stiffly.

“Right. Then come on, help me roll her up using this blanket. Do you have more blankets? If we wrap her up completely, she’ll be easier to transport.”

Feng Xin once again nods dumbly. It’s easy for Mu Qing to take control right now. He gets another blanket.

Mu Qing is the one to wrap Her Majesty up with a crisp almost professional touch, tucking her up completely in the blankets so she’s covered. Feng Xin wonders a little distantly if Mu Qing had to do this for his own mother when she passed.

“Come on.” Mu Qing gestures to the body, “You can take her, you said four days?”

Feng Xin nods and Mu Qing presses his lips together so they become a white line, “Then we better get going.” He says.

“You’re coming?” Feng Xin asks, slightly shocked.

“I said I’d help didn’t I.” Mu Qing has, once again, turned away, “If you don’t want me to then-“

“No! No! I do, I do want you.” Feng Xin wants so badly he doesn’t even know how to say it, “Thank you.” He settles on, completely sincere. He doesn’t even ask if it’s okay for Mu Qing to come with him. Doesn’t ask if it’s alright for Mu Qing to just abandon his life for a few days to carry Her Majesty to the Xian Le Royal Mausoleum. He’s being selfish but he can’t… he wants…

“Come on, we need to hurry.” Is all Mu Qing says, “Do you have any provisions we could take? I assume we’ll be walking most of the way.”

Feng Xin nods and together they wrap up the meagre supplies they still have in the shack and fill up some water skins before setting off. He doesn’t ask if this is okay, if it isn’t Mu Qing would have said. The other isn’t shy about that kind of thing but for once Mu Qing says nothing, just walks steadily by Feng Xin as they make the hike to the Xian Le Royal Mausoleum.

Feng Xin carries Her Majesty’s body and tries to forget what the unmistakable weight in his arms is, what it means.  

It’s easier with Mu Qing there.

*

“We’re here.” Feng Xin says as he reaches the familiar place. He’s only been here once before as a child but he could never forget it, “It’s still intact, thank the gods.”

“It’s very out of the way,” Mu Qing points out, “And you said no one else knows the location.”

“Yeah,” Feng Xin almost laughed, “Just you, me and His Highness. The only three fucking people left in the whole world.” He gets quiet then.

Mu Qing has a look on his face he has no idea how to interpret.

“Is it alright if I go in?” Mu Qing asked a little too caustically (which meant it was self-conscious) as he followed Feng Xin to the concealed entrance.

“Yeah. Obviously.”  Feng Xin turned back, shifting Her Majesty’s body in his arms. They’d made good time, Mu Qing being more athletic than he looked, and it had only taken just under three days to get here, “Come on.”

Mu Qing followed.

The inside is dark and honestly doesn’t smell great.

“Hold on to me.” Feng Xin instructs Mu Qing because he can’t grab his hand while he’s carrying Her Majesty and he imagines Mu Qing would probably like the comfort.

Sure enough he feels a tug on his outer robes where Mu Qing has grabbed him. It makes this easier. Mu Qing’s footsteps are silent next to his, a little floaty almost. Mu Qing walks like he’s on air sometimes, more graceful than the majority of people Feng Xin had seen in Heaven. He focuses on that, on the thought of what Mu Qing looks like when he walks and it makes it easier.

Laying down Her Highness is something hazy and strange. If called to remember it Feng Xin wouldn’t even say he remembers how they did it, all he knows is that Mu Qing was by his side when he unwrapped the blankets and laid Her Majesty to rest in the pre-ordained spot next to the King that has been waiting for her since the monarchs married.

After it’s done all Feng Xin wants to do is get out, the urge strong enough to override everything else.

Mu Qing stumbles along behind him as Feng Xin all but runs out and bursts his way into the fresh air, collapsing onto his knees as he pants as if he’d just fought a vicious battle.

“Fuck. Fuck.” He feels nauseous all of a sudden, this act having done nothing to take the weigh off his back. Hot tears he can’t prevent prick his eyes and burn in his nose. Her Majesty is dead, His Majesty is dead, His Highness is fuck knows where and Feng Xin… what is Feng Xin meant to do? He doesn’t know what to do-

“Hey.” Mu Qing’s slim hand strokes a hesitant path down his back, “Here.” He crouches down next to him and passes him the waterskin, “Drink something.”

Feng Xin takes a deep gulp of water and then before his mind has the strength to catch up he turns and practically tackles Mu Qing to the ground, knocking him onto his back with an “oof” from the other.

“Feng Xin! What are you doing- mph!” Feng Xin crushes their mouths together, pulling Mu Qing close and kissing him like it’s the only thing he can do. Like the world doesn’t exist and Xie Lian isn’t still missing and Xian Le isn’t gone forever.

Mu Qing struggles for a brief second before going boneless and kissing back.

“Ahh- I, is this really the place for this?” Mu Qing asks, bright-eyed with that edge of meanness to him that Feng Xin wants to chew on.

“It’s okay.” Feng Xin says as he continues to lick sloppily into Mu Qing’s mouth, “S’Fine.” His words slur as his hand clenches down on Mu Qing’s hip.

“We’re- we’re outside the Royal Mausoleum.” Mu Qing protests, “And-“

“You like it.” Feng Xin grinds against him, “It’s get you off huh? That we could do this right outside where generations of Xian Le’s Royalty lie to rest.”

Mu Qing tries to protest but Feng Xin just kisses him again. Fuck. He has no idea what’s wrong with him but Mu Qing is perfect like this, everything he wants. He wants to fight and fuck and chain this other person to him. No, he wants Mu Qing to keep coming back like a cat that’s found a home no matter how many times he runs away.

“You’re perfect.” He says between more kissing and groping, “Absolutely perfect, the most gorgeous person I know.”

Mu Qing is flushed a bright healthy pink and not pulling away from Feng Xin’s hands so Feng Xin pushes more, pushes harder and Mu Qing pulls him back even more fiercely.

“Shit.” Feng Xin’s lips attach to Mu Qing’s neck and suck a dark bruise that he knows the other will bitch about later but still press fingers to while biting his lip when he thinks Feng Xin isn’t watching. “How the fuck do you make me feel like this? How are you doing it?”

He pulls back to see Mu Qing’s expression and that blush has only gotten darker but Mu Qing is smiling, “You’re such an oaf I don’t think it’s even possible for me to influence anything that’s going on in your tiny brain.”

Feng Xin growls and dives in for another kiss, “You’re infuriating.” He says between kisses, “You’re such a dick.” He bites at Mu Qing’s neck, “Fuck you’re amazing.”

Mu Qing laughs loudly and more honest that most other things, “How are those things related? You can’t say I’m a dick and then say-“

“I can. I did. Fuck you for being so irresistible.”

From there it dissolves into the greedy press of both their bodies until they’ve spent themselves thoroughly enough on the leaf litter that Feng Xin is once again able to get to that strange liminal place where everything feels far away, apart from the press of the body next to him and the tickle of Mu Qing’s hair.

Had it felt this way with the people before? He’s thought hard, tried to think and remember and categorise how he felt back then compared to now but he was a different person back then. Enough so that he feels as though the experiences can’t be compared. He’s not sure… if he had met Mu Qing back when he was a Heavenly Official or Xie Lian’s general he doesn’t think he would have liked Mu Qing and he’s not sure how that makes him feel.

“Do you really think I’m mean?” Mu Qing asks as they lie curled up against each other, Mu Qing’s head on Feng Xin’s chest as usual.

Feng Xin blinks into the dark sky stretched out above them, “I never said mean.”

Mu Qing’s breath stirs its way across Feng Xin’s chest, “You know what I mean. You said infuriating. You called me a dick.” He sounds placid. Feng Xin doesn’t know if this is one of those times he has to tread gently lest Mu Qing flash his claws or one of those times the other will be strangely understanding about certain random things.

“You’re a dick.” Feng Xin repeats, “But you’re not mean.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like you’re… you’re a grudge-holder but you’re not petty enough to take revenge for things.”

“Hmm.” Mu Qing still sounds placid so Feng Xin continues.

“You see things differently from me, I get that. But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” Feng Xin of the past maybe would have thought so but Feng Xin recognises now that… well things are complicated. He has his principles of course and would never bend or break them for anything. But… Her Majesty is dead after all, nothing could ever be simple again.

“I don’t hate the way you see the world.” Mu Qing says softly then, “It’s… nice.”

“Nice?”

“Naïve.”

Feng Xin snorts, “Right, thanks.”

“It speaks a lot.” Mu Qing continues, “Only the truly powerful can see the world in black and white. The rest of us can’t live like that with survival on the line.”

Feng Xin sighs, “Well, I guess I used to think that way.”

“You still do.”

“No I don’t, how can I? His Highness fucking stole. I can’t-“

“You’re still thinking about that.” Mu Qing huffs and if Feng Qing could see him he knows he would be rolling his eyes, “Don’t you think that good and bad can be dependent on the situation? There aren’t any overarching rules, it’s just situations and what you do in them.” His voice is still somewhat lazy; Feng Xin really hasn’t managed to fuck him stupid yet judging by the words coming out of his mouth.

“You need rules.” Feng Xin argues back.

“Why are you loyal to His Highness and the Royal Family?” Mu Qing asks suddenly.

Feng Xin frowns into the darkness, “What do you mean why? Of course I am, I was born to be His Highness’ guard, my parents-“

“I know that. But what if you hadn’t been martially talented as a child and they didn’t choose you to be His Highness’ guard.”

“Then I would have joined the army and likely become a general.” Feng Xin thinks it over, “With enough training anyone can accumulate martial might, it doesn’t have to be innate.”

Mu Qing hums in response before continuing, “Then what would you have done if His Highness was cruel to you? Actually treated you like his servant? Beat you and bullied you and all that.”

Feng Xin can’t even imagine Xie Lian acting anything like that, even at His Highness’ lowest.

“I suppose,” Feng Xin frowns, “I would still be loyal to them.”

“But why?” Mu Qing asks.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“To give your loyalty to a bad man? What if His Highness was a mass murderer?”

“But he’s not.”

“Yes but what if. Would you still give your loyalty to an evil man?”

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Feng Xin truly doesn’t know how to answer.

Mu Qing hums again and even nuzzles a little into the flesh of Feng Xin’s chest which does something to dissolve the hard ball of moral confusion Feng Xin is experiencing.

“You’re not a mean person.” Feng Xin feels the need to emphasise, “You’re not very honest but you’re kind. And you’re loyal. You came with me didn’t you? You didn’t have to.”

There’s a long pause and then Mu Qing suddenly says, “I overcharged you.”

“Excuse me?” Feng Xin asks with some amusement, not understanding this sudden non-sequitur.

“That first night in the brothel. I knew from the moment you walked in that you had no idea what you were doing.” Mu Qing is speaking somewhat gravely like he’s confessing some big sin, “And when you paid me I knew it for sure, that was about five times my usual going rate but I didn’t say anything, I just took the money and continued to let you overpay me for months.”

There’s a pause and then Feng Xin explodes into laugher. He can’t help it.

“What are you laughing for?” Mu Qing asks, flashing those cat claws.

“Nothing nothing, just,” Feng Xin laughs, “Of course you did, of course. I’m an idiot, you should have done that.” He kisses Mu Qing quickly, “An idiot like me deserved it.”

Mu Qing lies there, barely illuminated by the scant moonlight filtering through the trees overhead, and gapes at him which only makes Feng Xin want to kiss him again, “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He says lowly.

“I- what, what’s wrong with you?!” Mu Qing says, sounding seriously affronted, “You can’t just-“

“Shh shh, calm down.” Feng Xin kisses him again, and again and again. Peppering small kisses all over his face, “Fuck. That’s funny.”

Mu Qing lies there stiff, “I don’t understand what’s so funny about it.” He says with deep sarcasm, “You need your head checked for injuries.” He even rolls his eyes.

Feng Xin laughs again, “Since I’m in love with you, yeah maybe.”

That makes Mu Qing blink those big eyes up at him, “What- you- what?”

“Shh.” Feng Xin kisses him one last time, “It’s late, we should sleep.”

“But- you can’t just say- I-“

“Mu Qing. It’s okay. Let’s sleep.”

Mu Qing settles down gingerly on his chest and his nails dig in a little to Feng Xin’s skin where he’s clutching him but it doesn’t really hurt.

“Good night.” Mu Qing says suddenly, quietly.

“Good night.” Feng Xin answers and they go to sleep there under the canopy of stars in the dark forest, just the two of them.

*

“I need to go look for His Highness.” Feng Xin says seriously the next day as they walk back in the direction of home, “With luck he’ll be back when we get back, but I need- I- I don’t know what I’ll do if he isn’t.”

Mu Qing hums, hand tucked into Feng Xin’s as he navigates the forest floor with the same floaty goddess grace that Feng Xin had noticed in the tomb.

“He’ll be back.” Feng Xin says, resolve hardening as his hand clenches around Mu Qing’s, “And if he isn’t I’ll find him.”

Mu Qing continues to walk hand in hand with Feng Xin and doesn’t say anything. Feng Xin is absurdly grateful Mu Qing came this far with him in the first place.

They’re settling down to sleep again on the forest floor that night and once more in that dark, safe space Mu Qing opens his mouth and speaks.

“I met His Highness once.” He says.

Feng Xin is surprised by that, “Did you?”

“When my mother was sick, before she died, I would work as an errand boy for extra money sometimes when there was no tailoring work. One of my errands took me to the Temple that His Highness cultivated at.”

“Oh.” Feng Xin tries to imagine Mu Qing there, “Did you meet me?”

“No. I was paid to deliver a message but the Head Priest wouldn’t take it from me. He hated me on sight.” Mu Qing’s voice is bitter.

Feng Xin snorts, “That man was strange. Obsessed playing cards.”

He knows he’s said the right thing when Mu Qing relaxes against him.

“He wouldn’t take the message.” Mu Qing continues, “No matter how nicely I spoke I think he looked at me and only saw a street rat.”

Feng Xin can’t really say he remembers much about Mei Nianqing. Of course he had met the man numerous times because of Xie Lian but he had barely spoken to him each time. Xie Lian was his student and the one who had actually spent time with him. Therefore he can’t really say this way or that why the man had treated Mu Qing so poorly or been so antagonistic for no reason the way Mu Qing is describing.

“What happened?” He asks.

Mu Qing snorts, breathing into Feng Xin’s neck, “His Highness appeared. He’s kind like you said, almost irritatingly so. He apologised for the trouble and took the message and even invited me to pick some cherries from the trees and take home with me.”

Feng Xin nods, “That’s His Highness for you.”

“Mm, I picked the cherries and then some disciples accused me of stealing.” Mu Qing’s voice is still bitter but with something lighter underneath, “I told them His Highness gave me permission and they said they didn’t believe me but when I challenged them to ask His Highness himself none of them had the balls. They let me leave with the cherries.”

Feng Xin laughs, “You’d be surprised how many shitty people there are among the nobility, don’t even get me started on His Highness’ cousin, fucking Qi Rong.”

“Oh I think I remember rumours about him.” Mu Qing says with amusement.

Feng Xin snorts with annoyance, “He was a menace. An actual nightmare.”

“Mmn.” Mu Qing shifts closer; their legs are tangled together and somehow he managed to squirm even more firmly into Feng Xin’s embrace, thigh shifting against Feng Xin’s growing arousal in a way that may not be completely accidental. “Sounds awful, must have been a real hardship for you to deal with.”

Feng Xin understands that he’s being mocked but can’t find it in himself to care too much, “You’re a menace.” He says as he rolls Mu Qing under him. They hadn’t fucked earlier so the other is still relatively mouthy and bright eyed.

“Fuck.” Feng Xin kisses him like he hasn’t been doing almost exclusively that for the past few months, “How are you so good?”

Mu Qing stares back at him, uncompromising and challenging but softening in degrees as Feng Xin palms his waist through his clothes and guides his thigh to hook around his hips.

That’s what Feng Xin loves so much about him. That he’ll squirm and lie and hide his face and duck behind sharp words but when Feng Xin’s hands are on him he’ll go boneless and take whatever he’s given.

“Fuck I love you.” Feng Xin moans against his mouth and kisses a love bruise onto Mu Qing’s neck before he can reply.

He doesn’t need Mu Qing to reply.

Mu Qing wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to be. And that means both under Feng Xin pressed into the forest floor and on this long tiring walk back to civilisation with only each other for company.

When he kisses Mu Qing he wants to somehow express that, wants Mu Qing to understand what he’s saying which is “it’s okay. Don’t say it back. Don’t say it at all. Call me a fool I don’t care. It’s okay”.

When Mu Qing kisses back Feng Xin doesn’t try and read any more into it. He turns his brain off and focuses on the sensation. On the fact that Mu Qing is here.

Here.

With him.

That’s more than good enough.

*

Xie Lian isn’t back at the shack. He also isn’t anywhere in the immediate area. No one’s seen him recently no matter how many people Feng Xin (and Mu Qing) ask.

“I’ve got to go look for him.” Feng Xin tells Mu Qing who just looks back, nods and answers with a simple, “I’ll come with you.”

Feng Xin doesn’t question it. He’s too grateful. The thought of having to do this alone, be alone, is just terrifying and exhausting.

They pack up the rest of the shack and then spend one night in Mu Qing’s little house making a plan for where to search.

“It’s been two weeks.” Mu Qing points out, “He might be a thousand li away.”

Feng Xin just grits his teeth and glares at the floor, “Then I’ll have to travel a thousand fucking li.”

Mu Qing doesn’t say anything to that.

That night after they have (rather desperate and messy) sex Feng Xin thinks he hears Mu Qing say something to him, very quietly as he’s falling asleep, but he’s unconscious before he can really register it.

The next day Mu Qing and Feng Xin set off into the surrounding forests. It’s a gamble, they have a bare map and no idea of where they’re going but Mu Qing had told Feng Xin sharply that he couldn’t spare more than two weeks which Feng Xin had understood.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if it turns out he needs to leave the area to look for Xie Lian. He needs to look for Xie Lian obviously, he refuses to abandon him, but the thought of leaving Mu Qing is equally stomach turning.

All he can hope is to find Xie Lian.

Mu Qing is strangely reticent that night when they lie down to sleep, there’s something to him that Feng Xin recognises as reluctance though he can’t say where it’s come from and any attempts to coax out the information frustratingly reveal nothing.

The next day however he’s fine. Or at least back to mostly normal. Feng Xin doesn’t really understand it but he holds Mu Qing’s hand and talks to him anyway.

They’ve just moved on to how Feng Xin and His Highness had managed to make money.

“Mostly through pawning things.” Feng Xin said, “There are shops littered with Xian Le’s best treasures now.”

“Would you ever go get them back?”

Feng Xin sighs, “If I had the money maybe. It hurt letting it all go, the weapons at least. They shouldn’t be collecting dust in some random person’s collection. Though we tried not to use some of it; His Highness still has one sacred weapon left. Hongjing, it’s a sword that can expose a ghost’s true identity no matter what disguise they’re wearing.”

Mu Qing has a lot of questions about that. If there’s something the other is fascinated about its ghosts and spiritual powers and everything related. Feng Xin thinks it’s a shame he never got the chance to cultivate. If they find His Highness maybe... maybe His Highness could share a few tips with Mu Qing, teach him a little.

“So you mostly sold things?” Mu Qing prompts after he’s exhausted Feng Xin’s knowledge of ghosts.

Feng Xin nods, “Sometimes we’d do labour, so till a field or that kind of thing.”

Mu Qing raises an eyebrow, “His Highness?”

Feng Xin laughs, “He’s more adaptable than you’d think. He’s down to earth, would do anything to protect those he cares about. There’s no shame in working for a living.”

“No, there isn’t.” Mu Qing seems to be thinking, “If he has spiritual powers doesn’t that mean he’s immortal? If he’s a god? So he doesn’t have to eat or sleep?”

“Not with the shackle, and even if gods don’t have to they still like to. They still feel hunger and fatigue and all of that.”

“Hmm.” Mu Qing’s light feet make quick work around a fallen log.

“You’d make a good god.” Feng Xin can’t help but say.

Mu Qing’s head snaps up, “What?”

“I said, you’d make a good god. Role of a god is to clean up messes, slay monsters, answer prayers. It’s a pretty bureaucratic job, lots of politics and attention to detail. You’re responsible, take pride in the work you do, don’t take shit from people. You’d be a good god.”

Mu Qing is watching him with his mouth popped open before he seems to shake himself, “What about you?” He challenges, “Don’t you want to be a god?”

Feng Xin shakes his head, “Not really.”

“Didn’t you live in Heaven?” Mu Qing asks, “As a middle official? Was it that awful?”

“No it wasn’t. It was fine. I just- I guess-“ Feng Xin doesn’t really know how to say it without sounding stupid but he tries, “I just want to be happy with my life, I don’t know if I want to be so powerful or if I want to live forever.”

Mu Qing is looking at him in a way he doesn’t completely understand now.

“Power is useful.” Mu Qing finally says, “If we were both gods right now we’d find His Highness easily at least.”

Feng Xin laughs, “True true. And not all the other gods and goddesses were bad. They rise and fall fairly quickly all things considering, depending on circumstances.”

“Most of the gods are royalty, right?” Mu Qing questions as they continue to walk.

Feng Xin nods, “Yeah, mostly royalty or generals. I mean, I think you can ascend through a big deed or cultivation. And to cultivate most people are-“

“Nobles at least.” Mu Qing snips in quickly.

“Yeah. Or in a position where you can do something big enough to ascend.”

“You said before popularity is measured through merits which are literally incense sticks burnt by worshippers.”

Feng Xin nods, “Yeah that’s right.”

“So if no one worships them…?”

“They’ll lose power and eventually fade away into nothing.”

“Hmm.” Mu Qing doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that.

“It’s inevitable,” Feng Xin doesn’t think deeply about this kind of thing but now that Mu Qing is asking he starts to remember all the random things he had learned and even what Xie Lian had told him, “Fate binds all of us. I remember, during the War, Xie Lian- His Highness, told me that he couldn’t kill Lang Ying.”

“The king of Yong’an?” Mu Qing questions, “He couldn’t kill him?”

Feng Xin nods, “He said- well I have to admit I wasn’t completely paying attention at the time, there was so much going on, but he told me he had an aura that made him able to fight one to one with a god, he just couldn’t kill him because of that aura.”

“Because of fate.” Mu Qing says, his gaze is on the ground, “Because it was unavoidable.”

“I guess so.”

“Do you believe it? Fate?”

“I- I don’t know. I don’t not believe it, but it-“

“It scares you.”

“Yeah I guess so, I mean, the thought that nothing you do really matters. It’s all predestined anyway, it’s… fucking unsettling.”

“Do you think-“ Mu Qing then cuts himself off, “Forget it.”

“Hey what is it?” Feng Xin squeezes Mu Qing’s hand, “What are you thinking?”

“Do you think us meeting was fate?” Mu Qing asks quietly before shaking his head, “It’s stupid, forget it.”

Feng Xin coaxes Mu Qing closer into his arms, “Maybe. I don’t know how strict fate it, how many small details it controls or if it’s only the big things. So maybe. But does it matter?”

“I don’t know.” Mu Qing said, rare honesty on his face, “I don’t know if it matters.”

“It doesn’t.” Feng Xin said, taking the opportunity to kiss Mu Qing soundly.

Mu Qing kissed back and didn’t say anything more on the subject of fate.

*

They traversed the forests for days, going along small paths while Feng Xin occasionally called for His Highness.

It was only two days to Mu Qing’s self-appointed deadline and they were five days walk away from the nearest town. Feng Xin hadn’t brought it up and it didn’t look as though Mu Qing was going to bring it up either.

It made something in Feng Xin ache pleasurably when he held Mu Qing and hoped, prayed, that it wouldn’t be the last time.

The deadline passed.

A week passed.

Then another one.

Everyday Feng Xin wondered if this was the moment Mu Qing would leave but he never did. He never even mentioned it.

Of course, that’s when they found His Highness.

Or rather His Highness found them first.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing were tramping along another uncomfortable forest path when suddenly a white robed figure appeared in front of them.

Feng Xin ground to a halt.

“Your Highness.” His voice was almost a whisper. His mind almost couldn’t comprehend it.

Xie Lian stood in front of him, pale and… and there were awful half-mended rips in his robes but he was here and alive.

The relief Feng Xin felt was immeasurable. An ocean’s worth. More than any other time in his life.  

“YOUR HIGHNESS.” He dropped Mu Qing’s hand and all but ran forward, “Are you alright? Where have you been? What have-“ And that’s when the ghost appeared.

It was an entirely black robed figure with a white mask on and Feng Xin reared back, reaching for his bow as he did, “What the fuck. Your Highness, get away from-“

“It’s alright Feng Xin.” Xie Lian was holding up his hands and with a motion the ghost stood down and back, standing next to Xie Lian and no longer releasing so much killing intent.

Even so its aura was unmistakably malicious and with a sudden start Feng Xin turned around to look for Mu Qing, Mu Qing who wasn’t martially trained in any way and wouldn’t be used to any kind of ghostly presence.

Mu Qing looked pale but when he saw Feng Xin looking he met his eyes steadily and followed Feng Xin’s subtle gesture to come closer and came to stand to Feng Xin’s right, just slightly behind him.

“Your Highness, what is that ghost doing here?” Feng Xin asked, his hands hadn’t moved from his bow.

“I- he-“ His Highness started and then stopped rather painfully before taking a breath and continuing, “His name is Wu Ming.” The ghost shifted slightly at His Highness’ side.

“Your Highness,” Feng Xin could see the way Xie Lian was looking around, startling with small movements, “Are you alright? What happened?”

“I-“ Xie Lian shook his head hard, presses a fist to his skull, “I don’t-“

“Your Highness!” Feng Xin moved forward in concern and this time the ghost didn’t try to stop him, “What’s wrong? What happened?” He looked to Mu Qing, “Mu Qing, I-“

Mu Qing stepped closer without any further instructions and helped Feng Xin lower His Highness to the ground while the ghost watched, standing defensively. Xie Lian was shivering now.

“Your Highness what happened.” Feng Xin almost begged for details, “Was it Bai Wuxiang?”

At that name the ghost by Xie Lian’s side snarled. Feng Xin was impressed that Mu Qing barely even flinched.

Xie Lian also flinched, “Feng Xin, I-“ His Highness’s eyes were shifting everywhere, “Feng Xin do you think I was wrong to try and save the common people?”

Feng Xin blinked at the non-sequitur, His Highness seemed almost delirious, shaking as the ghost prowled around them in a rough perimeter.

“I- Your Highness-“ Feng Xin wasn’t sure how to answer but before he could bumble it anymore Mu Qing spoke up.

“Yes Your Highness.” He said shortly, “As a common person who lived in Xian Le I think it was right.”

Xie Lian’s mouth dropped open and he blinked at Mu Qing, “I- do I know you?” He asked, “I’m sorry my memory, I-“ He pressed his fist against his head again, “I don’t know-“

“Your Highness, why don’t you get some rest. We can talk once you’re more… present.” Feng Xin settled on saying, eyes darting to Mu Qing who nodded and then to the ghost who was still prowling through the trees, eyes occasionally darting back to Xie Lian and then away again.

Xie Lian nodded and before Feng Xin knew it he had all but collapsed into an unconscious heap.

The ghost was there suddenly and Feng Xin pushed Mu Qing behind him without even thinking, drawing his bow and aiming, “Who are you and why are you following His Highness?”

The ghost doesn’t answer immediately, drawing back and then forward again, putting himself right into the path of Feng Xin’s arrow but also closer to His Highness.

“Is Her Majesty really dead?” The ghost asks. It has a surprisingly smooth voice.

Feng Xin’s arrow doesn’t waver, “What do you know?”

“Dianxia didn’t remember if it was real.” The ghost continues, “Bai Wuxiang cornered him in a temple not far from here.”

Feng Xin’s hands don’t shake though he thinks they might if he lets even the slightest tremor go, “What did he do?”

The ghost regards him behind his mask, “Where were you?”

“Taking Her Majesty to the Royal Mausoleum after His Highness ran off.” Mu Qing is the one that answers, stepping up so they’re shoulder to shoulder with Feng Xin, “He’s been searching for His Highness this entire time.”

The ghost’s head tilts slightly and they don’t answer immediately.

“Dianxia was hurt badly.” They finally say, “Dianxia has spent this time recovering.”

Feng Xin finally puts down the bow, “What happened?” He barks.

The ghost doesn’t answer immediately, “Dianxia can tell you if he wishes to.” It finally says.

Feng Xin grits his teeth, “You!”

The ghost doesn’t move or react to the implicit threat, “This lowly one is sworn to protect Dianxia.” Is all the ghost says.

“Feng Xin.” Mu Qing places a hand on their arm.

Feng Xin looks down at the slim elegant hand and tries to swallow his own emotions. It’s impossible. Mu Qing’s hand clenches down and Feng Xin does understand that a drag out battle royale with this ghost in the middle of the woods next to His Highness’ passed out body is a terrible idea, especially if Mu Qing could get caught in the crossfire.

So he goes back to His Highness’ body and catalogues the fact that he now has a new sword.

“Where did this come from?” He asks no one in particular.

“Bai Wuxiang.” The ghost answers.

Feng Xin jerks, “Bai Wuxiang gave him this sword?”

The ghost nods and that’s when Feng Xin notices, “Isn’t that Hongjing? What the fuck do you have Hongjing for?” He asks roughly.

“Dianxia gave it to me.” The ghost answers, “This one is sworn to protect Dianxia.”

The ghost already said that. Feng Xin sighs to himself. He supposes it’s better than the ghost saying he was sworn to kill Xie Lian.

It’s at that moment that Xie Lian stirs.

“Feng Xin?” His voice is hoarse and Feng Xin immediately moves to pass him a waterskin, “You’re really here?”

“Yes Your Highness, shit.” Feng Xin’s voice comes out rough, “Where did you go? We’ve been looking everywhere.”

Xie Lian frowns a little at the “we” and then his eyes catch on Mu Qing, “Oh!”

“This is Mu Qing.” Feng Xin says quickly.

Xie Lian’s mouth drops open, “Oh! This is Mu Qing! Yes, yes you’ve spoken so much about them!”

Feng Xin’s only mentioned Mu Qing maybe once or twice but… well considering he’s only had what feels like a handful of proper conversations with Xie Lian since the banishment he supposes it is a lot.

He can also be grateful for the way that that statement obviously flatters Mu Qing into a state of quiet flusterment.

Xie Lian’s gaze is caught on Mu Qing, “Have we met before?” He asks, very gently. Sounding like the Xie Lian of old.

Mu Qing nods stiffly, “Yes Your Highness, at the Temple. I delivered a letter one day.”

Xie Lian’s eyes widen, “Oh yes! I remember.” He frowns, “I think I remember.”

“Your Highness.” Feng Xin says quickly, “What about Bai Wuxiang? What are we going to do?”

Xie Lian sucks in a shaky breath, and his eyes close again.

“Feng Xin.” When his eyes open again there’s something steely in them, “What happened to A-Niang’s body?”

“I took it to the Royal Mausoleum.” Feng Xin, feeling strangely guilty all of a sudden, “I apologise Your Highness, I didn’t wait for you-“

“No. No please Feng Xin don’t apologise, I- I must apologise for running off like that and disappearing.”

“Your Highness-“

“I need to go to the Royal Mausoleum.” Xie Lian interrupts.

“Of course, should we-“

“I’ll go alone.” Xie Lian says firmly.

“Your Highness, I don’t think-“

“Feng Xin.” Xie Lian’s gaze is unwavering, “You’ve done so much. You’ve been so good to me and my family, thank you. But I need to do this alone.”

Feng Xin’s eyes flicker to the ghost, “What about-“

“Ah, yes well. Wu Ming will come with me.”

Feng Xin absolutely doesn’t trust the ghost but he knows how stubborn Xie Lian can be and how much His Highness is still wavering on the edge right now.

“Your Highness-“

“Feng Xin.” Xie Lian’s voice is very firm, “Don’t follow me.” His face softens, “This won’t be the last time we see each other. I’ll come and find you but for now,” He shares a look with the ghost, “I need to do some things alone.”

“Your Highness.” Feng Xin says somewhat helplessly.

“I’m sorry Feng Xin.” Xie Lian looks down, “I don’t think I can- I mean I can’t-“ His Highness is starting to tremble.

“Dianxia.” The ghost steps closer.

“Feng Xin.” Mu Qing puts the same grounding hand on Feng Xin’s arm. He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t pull Feng Xin one way or another. He’s just there. Feng Xin feels something inside of him sag and give way.

Feng Xin takes a breath and nods, “Your Highness, I- promise me you’ll come find me again.”

His Highness nods and smiles, the skin around his mouth is dry and cracked, the circles beneath his eyes deep and dark and now that Feng Xin is looking properly, he’s realising how terrible Xie Lian looks.

“I will.” Xie Lian’s voice is very soft, “Thank you. Feng Xin, thank you.”

He then turns and without saying anything else walks away from Feng Xin into the woods with the ghost at his heels.

He doesn’t look back once.

*

Feng Xin is in a strange fugue state for the entire journey back to Mu Qing’s little house. He’s aware of course and he knows that they’re walking and stopping and speaking and eating and sleeping but the details slip from his mind occasionally so when he looks up and finds Mu Qing pressing that cracked tea cup into his hands he’s suddenly unsure of how he got here.

“Thank you.” He says, voice hoarse.

“Don’t mention it.” Mu Qing says in an entirely dismissive voice and then disappears into the second room for a while. When he comes back Feng Xin has finished his tea and Mu Qing’s hair is wet and braided away from his face. He’s in clean clothes too.

“I heated a second basin of water.” He tells him, “There’s some soap by the basin, wash up.” He then throws a clean cloth at him.

Feng Xin nods and gets up, leaving to the second room, stripping off his clothes and putting down his bow and other equipment in a small pile before he begins to wash. He uses the soap and scrubs harshly at his hair and body. When he’s done the water is filthy and he feels a world of better.

He comes back into the other room, shirtless and wearing a pair of trousers Mu Qing set out for him that are a little too tight, with his hair still damp down his back.

“Hey,” He walks over to Mu Qing and catches the other by his upper arm, “Thank you. Really. You can say don’t mention it but thank you. I don’t think I would have been able to do this without you.”

Mu Qing rolls his eyes even as he flushes, “I didn’t do all that much.”

“You were there.” Feng Xin crowds him against the wall, “Thank you.”

“Yeah well,” Mu Qing shrugs, “It’s a pretty quiet season for tailors right now and at least you could hunt with that bow so we ate pretty well while travelling.”

Feng Xin can’t help his sharp laugh. Mu Qing… this person.

Fuck.

He’s in love.

He already knew, but it’s proven by the fact that this stupid contradictory talk that he would find mind-meltingly irritating on anyone else is somehow endearing when it’s this person. Only when it’s this person.

He kisses Mu Qing.

Mu Qing presses back just as hard.

“I’m here.” Mu Qing says and it comes out accusatory and sharp and absolutely not the kind of thing Feng Xin should find comforting.

He finds it deeply so.

“Yeah, yeah you are. Fucking beautiful. Perfect. I love you.” Feng Xin kisses him harder.

They kiss for a while like that, desperate and damp, clean for the first time in a while, with Mu Qing pressed hard against the wall until he eventually pushes Feng Xin slightly in the chest so he steps away.

“What?” He asks but Mu Qing doesn’t answer.

Instead, with a face so red Feng Xin wonders briefly if he should be concerned, he drops to his knees and reaches for the ties of Feng Xin’s trousers.

Feng Xin feels a little like someone’s hit him. But in a good way.

“Mu Qing-“ He says, voice punched out.

Mu Qing doesn’t look up, just determinedly gets out Feng Xin’s dick and begins to lick it.

It’s certainly not the best blowjob he’s had before but it’s Mu Qing’s mouth on his dick so that obviously elevates the experience considerably.

Mu Qing licks around the head and shaft for a while. His movements have an element of… performance to them. In that he has a clear list of instructions on how best to suck cock that he’s following to the letter. He next moves on to taking the tip into his mouth and sucking before gradually taking more and more.

Fuck.

Feng Xin groans as he leans back, one of his hands slides into Mu Qing’s damp hair and his fingers curl. Mu Qing likes having his hair tugged, not pulled too hard, but gently wound around Feng Xin’s fist the way he’s doing now and it makes Mu Qing lift his head up, mouth stuffed with Feng Xin’s cock, to give him that impossibly seductive look from under his lashes that Feng Xin still hasn’t developed any kind of immunity to.

He has no idea what his own face looks like but by the growing smugness in Mu Qing’s eyes it’s something very very flatteringly braindead.

Mu Qing ducks his gaze and returns once more to sucking as enthusiastically as he can.

This isn’t something that they’ve ever done before. Feng Xin has had his mouth on Mu Qing’s dick plenty of time but there’s something about… suggesting that Mu Qing do the same that felt far too much like they really were playing out the roles of a prostitute and their customer for Feng Xin’s own fragile comfort. Which of course they actually were.

But it was back then.

It’s different now.

Feng Xin moans lowly and lets out an incomprehensible babble of praise that he’s not even fully aware of before he comes into Mu Qing’s warm, welcoming mouth.

Mu Qing looks so pretty like this. Feng Xin wouldn’t say that this is the prettiest he’s ever seen Mu Qing or the most attractive state the other has been reduced to but there’s something particularly alluring about this. Maybe it’s because Mu Qing is on his knees, voluntarily putting his pride aside and visually making himself subservient to Feng Xin.

Maybe Feng Xin is a romantic at heart because the thought of Mu Qing’s trust, that precious delicate easily-shattered thing that he’s entire unaware of how he’s managed to keep whole, given to Feng Xin of his own free will makes his heart dissolve into a puddle and his dick perform a valiant attempt to get hard again.

“Beautiful.” His hand cups Mu Qing’s cheek and he watches as the other tries to swallow and gags a little. “Just spit it out.” He says with some amusement, “Here.” He reaches for a used cloth and lets Mu Qing spit out into it.

Mu Qing grimaces, “That was foul. The fact that you’ve done that before and swallowed clearly proves your sense of taste is long dead.”

“Oh thanks.” Feng Xin is too loose-limbed to argue properly, he just reaches down and tugs Mu Qing to his feet and into his arms. Mu Qing goes willingly, nestling comfortably against him. When Feng Xin reaches for the other’s own trousers, Mu Qing just bats his hand away.

“I’m fine.” He says, “I just want to lie down, I’m tired.”

“Oh alright.”

At no point does Feng Xin think to question the fact that he’s currently in Mu Qing’s home and that Mu Qing had brought him back here and given him clothes and food and tea and a place to sleep with no questions asked.

You’re a good person. He thinks to himself as he watches Mu Qing fuss with the blankets and the position of the sleeping mat. I’m so lucky to have met you.

“Hey,” He calls softly later when they’re cuddled up in their usual positions, “What’re you thinking about?”

It’s an utterly inane question and he finds himself strangely curious by how Mu Qing will answer; whether it be sarcasm, disdain or honesty.

Mu Qing hums, pressing his cheek more firmly to Feng Xin’s bare chest, “Thinking about Heaven.”

Honesty.

“Oh?”

“Mm, I want to ascend.” Mu Qing says, it’s quiet but firm.

“Do you?” Feng Xin doesn’t actually find himself surprised, “Then you better pick a route.”

“Mhmm.” Mu Qing sighs, “I know you don’t care.”

“Not particularly.” Feng Xin says honestly, “I don’t really get why you would want to.”

Mu Qing’s hand drifts to play with the ends of Feng Xin’s hair, “I want to be powerful. To live comfortably. Not have to worry about the material things anymore like food and shelter and work and all that. To be so powerful no one will ever look down on me again.”

Feng Xin is about to say something when he mentally smacks himself and reminds himself that Mu Qing is someone who had to put his pride to the side and whore himself out at a brothel for spare money when he couldn’t get enough work. Feng Xin bites his comment back.

“It’s nice.” He offers, “Heaven is beautiful and everyone there is powerful and… well if not pleasant than at least nice to look at.”

Mu Qing snorts, “Everyone there is former nobility right? I’ll fit right in.” Somehow he’s back to sarcastic and entirely of his own volition.

“You’d make a better god than the majority of those lazy fuckers.” Feng Xin says honestly.

Mu Qing huffs a derisive laugh, “A former whore in Heaven? Who’d worship me? I’m sure people would rather spit blood.”

“Don’t call yourself that.” Feng Xin can’t help but admonish.

“Oh?” Mu Qing squirms a little so he’s now face to face with Feng Xin, “Isn’t that what I am? We met in a brothel when you paid for me, remember?”

“Yes but you’re not- you’re-“

“I’m not special.” Mu Qing said caustically, “Just because I was a part-time whore doesn’t make me any less of one.”

He’s goading Feng Xin into something. Into saying something that would prove something that Feng Xin doesn’t understand the importance of.

“It doesn’t matter.” Feng Xin says honestly, “When it comes to Heaven most of the gods are lazy, backstabbing liars who care very little about their own followers apart from how many merits they can squeeze from them. Most of them lie to the common people to make themselves more attractive to worship. Most of the job is reputation management to be honest.”

Mu Qing blinks in surprise, “Oh.”

“You shouldn’t say bad things about yourself.” Feng Xin said, shuffling closer so he could press a kiss to Mu Qing’s lips, “You don’t believe them anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter if I believe them, only if others do.” Mu Qing said very firmly.

Feng Xin wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Did you really hate it?” He finds himself asking, “Working at the brothel?”

Mu Qing shrugs, “I didn’t like it. It’s not very nice work and I didn’t enjoy myself but sex is… it’s a physical act. It was the same as doing hard labour for me. Just different types of work. I would hate other less lucrative things just as much.”

“Really?” Feng Xin asks.

Mu Qing huffs, “What does it matter really? It was a necessary evil, I did it to make money so I could live another day. Isn’t that worth it? Yes it was occasionally awful but most of the time it was mundane, fine. I didn’t do it often anyhow.”

“Do you truly not feel anything when you have sex?” Feng Xin asked, curious.

When he had sex with Mu Qing it felt transcendently good, like a physical expression of everything he felt about the other person. Feng Xin knew he wasn’t the most gifted with flowery words and touching Mu Qing felt like the easiest way to realise his own feelings, especially at the beginning when they were complex and undecipherable. Making Mu Qing feel good, having Mu Qing make him feel good, the vulnerability and closeness attached… it was heady. He often got drunk on it.

“I didn’t say that.” Mu Qing said a little crossly though that faded when Feng Xin kissed him again, “It felt good with you. The first time in the brothel, it felt really good. I hadn’t really had that before where it felt good. And I felt… good after. It was… a little different with you.”

Feng Xin grinned, “Because I’m attractive, certainly superior in every way?”

Mu Qing rolled his eyes, “Because you’re certainly more annoying. But no, I do- f-feel things w-with you.” He stuttered a little in the last part, sounding so infuriatingly honest that Feng Xin had to kiss him again.

“Good.” Feng Xin hummed against his lips before drawing back and saying, “I can bring in an income now too, so you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

 Mu Qing nodded, “Alright.” Then a certain sly expression overtook his face, “And I’m going to find some way to ascend and I’ll bring you to Heaven as my Middle Heavenly Official and have you waiting on me at all times.”

Feng Xin barked a laugh, “We’ll fucking see won’t we? You aren’t happy with having me waiting on you here on the mortal plane?”

Mu Qing sniffed, “No.”

“Greedy.” Feng Xin faux chided, pressing another quick kiss to Mu Qing’s lips.

“Ambitious.” Mu Qing corrected, “Something you’re clearly lacking.”

“Hmph.” Feng Xin rolled them so Mu Qing was on top straddling him, long hair spilling down his shoulders and back in a way so dizzyingly attractive Feng Xin would believe it if someone told him he had already ascended. He rested his hands on Mu Qing’s hips, “His Highness will be back, you can ask him for cultivation tips then.”

“Mmmn.” Mu Qing leaned down to kiss him and Feng Xin surged up and together it just… made sense.

“If you really want to get to Heaven we can make it happen.” Feng Xin said breathlessly as Mu Qing moved on top of him in a slow grind. His hands flexed where his fingers dug into Mu Qing’s hips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I know you, you can do anything you want.”

When Mu Qing came this time it was comparable to fireworks behind his eyes, the glow of a thousand lanterns and Feng Xin’s simple smile.

*

“No the left the left!” Feng Xin all but yelled, “Fuck, Mu Qing the left!”

“I know what I’m doing!” Mu Qing shot back as he continued to goad the monster they were trying to kill to the right, “Stop breaking my focus.”

“Breaking your focus?! Breaking your fucking focus-“

“Just shut up will you?” Mu Qing yelled as a particularly well-timed strike by him had the monster rearing back but still continuing its steady move to the right.

“I said left.” Feng Xin muttered to himself, “I’m on the fucking left but does he fucking listen to me? No because he thinks he’s so fucking smart after fucking hunting for like a fucking week.”

“I heard that.” Mu Qing yells over the creatures’ yells, “And you can sleep on the floor for a week.”

“Mu Qing!” Feng Xin yells, somewhere between irritation and exasperation (and very very slight panic at not being able to hold Mu Qing for a week).

“I know what I’m doing.” Mu Qing calls again and his eyes are bright and alive and beautiful and when he bites his lip and goads, “Just a little further…” As the creature takes a few more lumbering steps forward Feng Xin’s unbidden “fucking gorgeous” pops up no matter how much he may try and ignore it because Mu Qing is being infuriating as usual.

“There!” Mu Qing suddenly yells and with a snapping noise and a rush the creature is strung up in a trap that Mu Qing must have set… sometime? Feng Xin has no idea when he would have done it but it completely tracks for the meticulous person Mu Qing is.

With a strike almost too fast for Feng Xin to see Mu Qing has swept the monster’s head clean off its shoulders.

“Fuck. Mu Qing.” Feng Xin can’t help but sound punched out by the sight.

“Not bad, huh?” Mu Qing asks like this isn’t a borderline insane learning curve for someone who had never picked up a sabre before in their life.

Sometimes Feng Xin will be faced with moments like this and be unable to think of anything but fate because what else makes sense?

“Are you going to keep standing there like an idiot or are you going to come help me?” Mu Qing asks in his usual caustic drawl followed by an eye roll paired with a low, “Idiot.”

They bicker on the way back home too because… well because they bicker a lot. But to be honest the stupid fights make for the best sex.

“Can you just shut up?” Mu Qing snarks, “And don’t even try and kiss me! So presumptuous-“

“Feng Xin. Mu Qing.”

The figure’s arrival was entirely unexpected and Feng Xin felt he could be forgiven for the way he practically tripped over his own feet.

“You Highness!”

Xie Lian smiled and he looked… healthier than the last time Feng Xin had seen him. That time in the woods had faded in his mind in strange hazy ways in the same way a lot of what had happened around that time had, but he couldn’t forget how sick and run-down Xie Lian looked when he had left him behind in the woods.

That last month after the Queen’s death often feels like a fever dream to Feng Xin, ended in damning punctuation by the way Xie Lian had walked away without him. He’d talked about it with Mu Qing, again and again in different ways; angry, sad, frustrated, wondering and all the rest. Now standing here with the memories made fresher by Xie Lian’s presence he can’t imagine what way it could possibly have gone any better at the time.

“Feng Xin, it’s good to see you well. You too Mu Qing, it’s good to see you too.”

It had been almost a year and though Feng Xin was cognisant that Xie Lian was technically immortal the time still felt incredibly significant now that they were facing each other again.

“Where’s the ghost?” He asked.

Xie Lian blinked, “Oh! You mean San Lang!”

“I thought their name was Wu Ming.” Mu Qing cut in because he was the one that remembered details like that.

“Ah, yes. Well, I call him San Lang now.” His Highness looked at Feng Xin, looked at him properly for what felt like the first time since the banishment, “Feng Xin I want to thank you for everything.”

Feng Xin shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me Your Highness, you’re my best friend.” He said earnestly.

His Highness smiled, beatific and the way he used to.

“I’m so glad to see you’re happy, and that Mu Qing is here too.”

Feng Xin flushed, “Ah yes. Um…” He suddenly remembered and felt the need to say, “Oh! Your Highness, Mu Qing is learning cultivation so can you teach him some things?”

Mu Qing shot him a look that was somehow grateful and also reproachful.

Xie Lian beamed, “Well, I can’t stay too long.” His countenance suddenly became serious, “San Lang and I are trying to deal with Bai Wuxiang.”

“Oh! Well, we can help-“

“No, no Feng Xin.” Xie Lian’s face was etched with old grief but the fact that it was old was already so much better, “I can’t have you caught up in this.”

For a brief shining moment, there on an old dirt road somewhere North of the ruined Capitol of Xian Le while Feng Xin stood opposite his best friend who had always been his prince and then his god, he saw Xie Lian as the figure he was always meant to be; awe-inspiring, resplendent, powerful, beyond anything of human imagining.

“Your Highness.” Feng Xin stopped himself and then started again, “Mu Qing is going to ascend.” He declared which really wasn't the first real thing he should say to Xie Lian after... everything. It also (predictably) caused Mu Qing who was standing next to him to subtly stomp on his foot in reproach, “I believe you’ll ascend again one day." Feng Xin continued,  "If nothing else, we’ll see you again in Heaven.”

Xie Lian’s face softened, “I hope so Feng Xin. If nothing else.” He then smiled brightly, “But I don’t have to leave quite yet! Mu Qing, you’ve started cultivating? Let me tell you as much as I can before San Lang comes back and we have to go. I think- if you have any ink and paper I can write it all down, does that sound okay? Feng Xin really did mention you a few times all that time ago, I’m sorry your first impression of me was during that time, I hope we can get to know each other now since you’re Feng Xin’s… special person.”

Feng Xin looked at Mu Qing who was wide-eyed as he was being caught up in the hurricane of Xie Lian’s good intentions.

He playfully nudged Mu Qing to reply and revelled in the look the other gave him, full of irritation and the promise of future retaliation.

Fuck, he really was in love if that was his reaction to Mu Qing’s angry little almost-pout.

There in the afternoon sun with His Highness in the middle and Mu Qing talking stiltedly on his other side Feng Xin felt that, after everything, he was as close to happiness he could get.

He still wasn’t sure he wanted to believe in fate but there were some things… some things that just made sense. The feel of a bow in his hand, Xie Lian’s presence in his life, somehow the image of the three of them walking together and finally Mu Qing. Obviously Mu Qing. Always Mu Qing. 

And maybe the Heavens too.