Chapter Text
Jing Yuan had finally reclaimed his peace. Or at least, that’s what he tried to convince himself of as he reviewed trade reports in his office. Following that encounter at his house, the silence of the next two days had been deafening. They were gone. They had respected his "get out of my house," and though a treacherous part of his chest felt strangely empty that night in the tub, he forced himself to bury that feeling under layers of duty.
Probably they’ve left the Luofu by now — he thought, letting out a relieved sigh. — Dan Heng surely has missions with the Express, and Blade... well, Blade will do whatever Elio commands.
He stretched, his bones creaking, and decided it was time to end the day. He stepped out of the Seat of Divine Foresight with a steady pace, enjoying the golden sunset bathing the ship.
However, as he crossed the threshold of his residence and closed the door behind him, he froze. It wasn't an ambush; he felt no bloodlust. But the scene before his eyes was, to say the least, surreal.
In the main lounge, Dan Heng and Blade sat facing each other in individual armchairs. Dan Heng was talking, and Blade was listening.
What, in the name of Lan...?
— ...and remember, tradition demands the proposal be clear to avoid any ambiguity — Dan Heng was saying, his tone pedagogical and serene.
Blade, with a deep frown and arms crossed, nodded with a thoughtful slowness, as if memorizing a war strategy.
— Who do you take me for, Imbibitor Lunae? — the swordsman grunted.
No way.
Jing Yuan blinked, confused. He looked around for a hidden camera, a prank by Yanqing, or a Mara-induced hallucination. A headache quickly began to bloom, throbbing against his skull, and his hands went straight to massage the bridge of his nose in desperation. He nearly stomped his foot on the wooden floor as a silent reproach to his own house.
— Don’t you two... have missions to attend to? Or some atrocious acts to commit? — he said, shedding his white coat with mechanical movements, still trying to process the image.
Upon hearing his voice, both stood up in unison, as if they had been waiting for a signal.
Dan Heng, unusually neat, held an ancient silk scroll and a sandalwood box that exuded a prohibitively expensive aroma. Beside him, Blade’s sword was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he held a bouquet of Luofu night-blooming flowers in a bandaged hand.
— We have spoken — Dan Heng began, his voice clear and firm. — Over these past three days, we have discussed what we remember and what we feel now.
Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow at him. Spoken?
— Spoken? As in, with each other? I’m impressed; I didn't think you were capable — he murmured as he looked at the flowers, the sandalwood box, and finally, the determined faces of the two men who were once his entire world. The headache intensified.
— Jing Yuan — Dan Heng continued with an elegance that made the General’s chest tighten —, we want to reclaim what belongs to us. Our lover. The man we loved and want to love again. If you still... — Dan Heng hesitated — if you still want us.
— You have to be joking — Jing Yuan laughed nervously. — Come on, guys. You two hunt each other to the death. How did you even agree on this nonsense...?
— Don't you dare call it nonsense, Jing Yuan — Blade interrupted.
A pair of serious, stoic faces stared back at him. He opened his mouth, then closed it.
Oh, so now they were angry with him? The nerve.
His fingers, expert at wielding a weapon that weighed tons, faltered over the coat he still held. He closed his eyes, feeling the scent of the night flowers and the sandalwood mingling in the air.
He took a slow step, moving away from the center of the room until he felt the solid resistance of the wall.
He sighed, letting his head rest against the wood. His shoulders slumped, releasing tension that had accumulated for centuries. He glanced at Blade out of the corner of his eye, meeting that broken golden gaze that reminded him so much of Yingxing, despite the scars and the madness.
— The man you are looking for was a naive idealist — Jing Yuan replied softly, referring to the youth who had loved them without fear years ago. — Now, I am just a pragmatic old man.
— A pragmatic old man who still uses the sandalwood oil Dan Feng used to like — Dan Heng interjected, closing the distance with that silent precision that always defined him.
The young man with the spear took another step, his shadow stretching long over Jing Yuan.
— We wish to know you again, from head to toe. You said your lovers died, Jing Yuan, but I disagree. It is more complicated than that, and you know it. As much as I’d like to separate myself from my past, from Dan Feng, our soul... remains the same. Memories flood me, my thoughts collide with those he once had, and my body yearns. I am certain it is the same for Blade. I... We remember the weight of your body against ours and the warmth of your laughter.
Blade stepped forward, approaching almost aggressively. He extended a bandaged hand and, with torturous slowness, barely grazed the collar of Jing Yuan’s black shirt, near his jawline.
— We have a piece of you, but we want the whole puzzle, do you understand? — Blade smiled predatorily, his fingers stroking the exposed skin. — We want to see if you can still hold us both without breaking, or if the weight of your title has made you fragile.
Jing Yuan’s heart skipped a beat. The security of his home, his walls, and his keys were suddenly useless against the combined pressure of those two.
— What is this? — he asked, and though he tried to maintain his composure, his voice turned suspiciously high-pitched at the end.
Dan Heng raised the ancient scroll and the box, offering them with a sophisticated confidence.
— It is a declaration of intent — Dan Heng replied, before clearing his throat. — We want to court you. Formally. Again.
— Court me? — he repeated, incredulous. — Me? You two? Together?
The deep laughter didn't take long to follow.
— I am the General of the Luofu — he finally said, catching his breath but keeping that spark of mockery in his gaze. — How exactly do you two plan to court me? In broad daylight? Between a damage report and a pending execution?
— We don’t need daylight — Blade snapped, his voice vibrating with a seriousness that wiped away part of Jing Yuan’s smile. — And we don’t care about your schedule, General.
— We... haven’t quite thought about that yet, but we will manage.
— Dan Heng! — Blade growled. — I’m starting to regret signing that thing — he said with a hint of murderous intent in his eyes.
Dan Heng looked at him for a moment, narrowing his eyes which flickered with annoyance. He glanced briefly at the man’s mouth, then back to his eyes, parting his lips as if to say something, but in a sort of internal debate, he chose to close his mouth again. Jing Yuan stood stunned, watching Blade get distracted like a novice by such subtle gestures. Although to be frank, he had also been distracted like an idiot—not that he would ever admit it.
— Regardless, this is not a request, Jing Yuan. It is a warning. — Dan Heng concluded.
Jing Yuan felt a knot in his throat. He was cornered between Dan Heng’s devotion and Blade’s intensity. He let out a long sigh. The General crossed his arms and swept them with an exhausted, sarcastic gaze.
— You two... are truly impossible — Jing Yuan managed to say, his fingers tightening around the flowers Blade had been holding a moment ago.
— Forewarned I am, then.
He walked toward the kitchen, passing between them with the elegance of someone ignoring a death threat out of sheer routine exhaustion. He stopped and, without looking at them, continued:
— But since you’ve decided to invade my home, I hope that scroll also includes which of you is going to prepare the tea, because my patience ran out just a couple of minutes ago, and my hospitality does not extend to serving suitors who don't even know if they want to behead each other or go on a date.
He turned slightly, arching an eyebrow at Blade.
— And please, Blade, do not bleed on the floor. I just had the carpets cleaned, and I doubt ‘courting me’ includes giving me more housework.