Chapter Text
A few months passed. With the birth of their children, Jiaoqiu, Feixiao, and Moze settled into a new rhythm of life, one that revolved around their little family. The early days were exhausting yet filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and love. Jiaoqiu’s blindness no longer felt like an insurmountable challenge; instead, it was something they all worked around together, with quiet understanding and care.
The babies—two foxian children, one with Feixiao’s striking teal-tipped hair and the other with Moze’s deep violet eyes—became the heart of their home. Feixiao, who had always been the guardian, changed into a playful and loving mother whenever she held them, her fierce exterior dissipating. Her once commanding voice, now filled with gentle lullabies as she hummed old war songs she would never sung before, became softer and full of affection as she spent countless nights rocking them to sleep.
One evening, Feixiao cuddled one of the infants while sitting by the fire and humming softly. Jiaoqiu, seated nearby, chuckled. "I never imagined hearing you sing those hymns of battle like a lullaby."
Feixiao glanced at him with a smirk, her teal eyes twinkling. “I’ve always been versatile, haven’t I?”
“Terrifyingly so,” Jiaoqiu teased, his hand reaching out to find Moze, who was sitting beside him. “What about you, Moze? Ever thought you’d see her so soft?”
Moze, quiet as ever, shrugged, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “She’s always had it in her.”
“Careful, Moze,” Feixiao warned playfully, her voice low. “I’ve still got my claws.”
Jiaoqiu laughed softly, shaking his head. "Ah, I am so fortunate to have such fierce guardians."
Still keeping his distance from the world, Moze took on the role of silent protector for their home. His orderly approach to everything made sure the kids never went without what they needed, and his calm demeanor created a structured atmosphere that provided a sense of stability in the often chaotic life of new parents. Moze's quiet love filled every corner of their home, from organizing their nursery to making small toys out of wood in his spare time. His attention to detail showed in how he prepared everything.
Jiaoqiu was sitting one afternoon with his two kids cuddled up against him when he heard Moze moving. “I can hear you brooding, Moze,” he said with a grin.
“I’m not brooding,” Moze replied, his voice calm as he adjusted the children’s blankets. “Just… organizing.”
Feixiao, returning from her duties, overheard the exchange and let out a laugh. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Moze’s famous ‘organizing’?”
Moze glanced at her with an expression that could only be described as resigned. “Better than you leaving your armor everywhere.”
“I prefer to think of it as strategic placement,” Feixiao countered, leaning in to kiss the top of Jiaoqiu’s head. “How are you feeling?”
"It is better," Jiaoqiu conceded, although his grin momentarily wavered. "Not being able to see them is still strange."
Feixiao kneeled beside him, gently guiding his hand to their eldest’s small face. “You don’t need to see them. You already know them by heart.”
Of course, there were also moments of frustration. Because of his blindness, Jiaoqiu occasionally felt that he was unable to contribute as much as he would have liked, especially during the more physically taxing times of parenthood. Sometimes, after struggling to calm their youngest child, Jiaoqiu sat back with a sigh, feeling overwhelmed.
“I can’t even tell if they’re hungry or tired,” Jiaoqiu muttered, his frustration evident. “I should be better at this.”
His voice soothing and low, Moze, ever the silent supporter, appeared at his side. “You’re doing more than enough. They know you’re here. That’s what matters.”
Feixiao joined them, her hand resting on Jiaoqiu’s shoulder. “He’s right. They feel your love. That’s what they need the most.”
Jiaoqiu exhaled, leaning into Feixiao’s touch. “I just wish I could see their faces.”
“We’ll describe them to you as many times as you want,” Feixiao whispered, her voice full of warmth.
Over time, they grew closer as a family as they endured the storms of restless nights and early mornings together.
...
As the children grew, their personalities began to blossom. The eldest was spirited, with a mischievous streak that often reminded Jiaoqiu of himself. He would hear their soft footsteps sneaking around the house, only to be caught by Moze’s ever-watchful eye.
“Caught again,” Moze said one evening, scooping up their child before they could sneak outside.
Feixiao chuckled from across the room. “You’ll have to be faster if you want to get past your father.”
The child pouted but giggled, squirming in Moze’s arms. “I was so close!”
Feixiao chuckled, "Close only counts in horseshoes and battle," as he approached the youngster to give him a cheek kiss.
The younger child was quieter but no less animated; they would frequently spend hours curled up in Feixiao's or Jiaoqiu's lap, content to be near their parents.
Despite the whirlwind of parenthood, the love between Jiaoqiu, Moze, and Feixiao deepened in ways none of them had anticipated. Feixiao continued to fulfill her responsibilities as a general, but she could not help but wish she could spend more time at home with Jiaoqiu and the kids.
Feixiao paused by the door one morning before heading out to the battlefield. Sensing her pause, Jiaoqiu gave her a gentle smile. "You know, you do not have to fight every battle."
Feixiao turned to look at him and sighed. “It’s who I am.”
“It’s who you were,” Moze interjected quietly from where he stood nearby. “Now you have more to come home to.”
Feixiao's expression softened as she looked from Jiaoqiu to Moze, her children. “Maybe I can delegate a little more.”
The worries of the outside world vanished from their home, which turned into a haven. Even in moments of difficulty—when Jiaoqiu struggled with his mood swings or when Moze’s old scars ached from memories of his past—there was always a sense of unity. They had each other, and that was enough to carry them through whatever challenges the future held.
With time, Jiaoqiu started to resume his healing profession, albeit in a much more subdued manner than before. He would often sit in the garden with his children, sharing stories of the old days or mixing simple medicinal herbs while Feixiao trained with her soldiers nearby. With his ever-vigilant instincts for protection, Moze, the silent presence, kept watch over everyone.
...
As the kids got older, they also realized how close their parents were to each other. "How did you and Dad and Mom meet?" inquired the oldest child one evening as Jiaoqiu told them a story.
Jiaoqiu chuckled, his voice warm. “It’s a long story. One filled with danger, intrigue, and a lot of spice.”
Feixiao, sitting beside them, grinned. “Don’t forget the part where I saved the day.”
Moze smirked from the doorway. “She always adds that part.”
The children often asked about their parents’ pasts, about how they had come together despite the odds, and the story became a cherished part of their family lore, one that would be passed down through generations.
Despite the difficulties of parenthood, Jiaoqiu, Moze, and Feixiao were aware that they had built something enduring. Once characterized by doubt and anxiety about the future, their love had grown into something more profound—an unbreakable connection that saw them through the years.
And so their lives went on, full of love-filled laughter, the occasional lighthearted quarrel, and the constant warmth of a family.