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[On the Martial Deity Avenue; An Awe-Inspiring First Impression]
Loud cheers mixed with the restlessness of the crowd deafened into white noise. All he saw was how the one on the stage twirled like a graceful breeze, dancing around within the precise steps that the person took. Feng Xin had seen the boy’s swift moves during the rehearsals, but nothing quite pulled out the same awe he was having today.
The face behind the mask was of course hidden, but Feng Xin knew it would be the same serious and calculating face Mu Qing had whenever he concentrated on his martial arts training. Somehow Feng Xin felt a hidden delight that he could make out the image of it all within his head and it was all Mu Qing, instead of the ghost mask that everyone else was seeing today.
When someone started heckling, the restless crowd became even more relentless. At some point, a teapot fell from the sky and it was flying unstoppably towards the back of the ghost’s head. Feng Xin was about to yell Mu Qing! as a warning but the boy was faster. His delicate and elegant form snapped like a very scrupulous wind, just as light and sharp, before everyone in the crowd caught their breaths at the same time as the heavy nine-foot blade caught the falling teapot on its tip, coming to a stop obediently.
A loud wave of cheers rumbled around the crowd, and all Feng Xin could hear was his own relieved sigh. Feng Xin looked up and saw someone was being apprehended into safety. He squinted his eyes, of course it was Prince Xiao Jing.
Dianxia, any minute now....
And then everyone’s cheers were entirely different. Hopefulness tinged with restless awe caught up slowly, as the figure flew down all graceful and white. And then everybody saw two eloquent figures dancing skillfully, the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior clashing his sword against the Ghost’s sabre, enticing all kinds of thrills with their parrying.
Feng Xin noticed how this was even more captivating than what he had seen in rehearsals, what with how the two were swaying their feet in exhilarating dance, getting lost in themselves as if a fierce battle really was happening. Traces of silhouettes painted with black and white were streaking in the most enthralling blurs. Feng Xin held his breath countless times.
When the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior snapped the heavy sabre away with a flick of his light sword, the Ghost knelt in defeat. The figure with the golden mask was about to slay the evil, but a small blood-red figure dropped from the sky, and the unison gasp was profound as the God-Pleasing Martial Warrior leapt up towards the sky once more; shredding his golden, catching the red instead.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. What kind of bad premonition is this?!
But then Mu Qing grabbed his heavily embedded sabre once more, Xie Lian, all revealed and his beautiful bare face still calmly holding the child in one hand, sword in another, took a few more moves, continuing their spar from before, improvising. The crowd’s strayed murmurs were now left behind, exchanged once more with the full-attention towards the parrying pair. Feng Xin was frowning, but he could not help but be stolen once again, the exciting view upon them all was both relieving and surrounding him with even more tension than before.
Eventually the evil was defeated and the cheer was too loud. While such distraction existed, it was to take the chance to slip away stealthily before the crowd went wilder than it was, and Feng Xin was light on his toes to follow the pair towards the safety within the palace gates. When he saw them both all exhausted but still had the adrenaline rush kept flowing, he let out a long exhale.
Only for a moment, though. He initially wanted to tell them both that they had done the most jaw-dropping play he had ever witnessed, but the joyous word was never delivered. Because he realized the child was brought along too, Feng Xin could not help his inquiry. He reasoned with the Crown Prince about the whole thing, remembering how the whole way here he had heard how Guoshi was freaking out.
The words of praise were stopped at the back of his throat.
He knew he should have told what he wanted to say at the time.
[Lost Red Pearl; Inadvertent Eyes Red with Desire]
When it came to Mu Qing, no one could predict what kind of words Feng Xin would tell the boy. Not even Feng Xin himself.
So when unintentional hurtful words were out of his mouth for Mu Qing to hear, Feng Xin could only feel the shameful regret for his stupid, stupid brain. Mu Qing’s cold voice being directed at him was never something new, but the moment Feng Xin realized he had fucked everything up, he felt like a bucketful of ice washed over him out in the open. No amount of self-justification was enough, because at the end of the day, he still hurt Mu Qing.
Feng Xin felt like he should make things right.
Ones that are destined to shine, must be let shine after all.
So when Feng Xin and Xie Lian found Mu Qing within the cherry woods, all the while overhearing conversations between the boy and the bullying shixiong, Feng Xin could not keep his anger in check, mostly frustrated at himself too, because he was probably being included in the list of people who made Mu Qing’s life none the easier. At some point, Feng Xin’s fists balled tightly at the ready, because if such a way to make things right had to be taken amidst violence determination, he might as well take it. Thankfully Xie Lian stepped in first.
Mu Qing was still an annoying piece of shit, though. So, if Feng Xin’s (attempt at) sincere apologies fell flat grazing at the awkwardness, it was not all Feng Xin’s fault, at least not solely.
The taken aback expression painted on Mu Qing’s face under the beautiful swarm of the cherry trees though, Feng Xin would definitely not forget it, at least not in a century or over.
And the next day, if he felt the little quiver on his heartstrings upon seeing how good Mu Qing was when treating the ‘kids from the block’ with warm familiarity laced in fake reluctance, Feng Xin would never admit it meant anything at all.
[To Ascend is Human, to Fall is Also Human]
“I can't believe you did that,” Mu Qing muttered softly.
Feng Xin was exhausted and about to resign for the day because today was too damn long for his liking. What with the havoc Qi Rong had caused at the capitol street, the palace, the red child, and then the fire burned everything off Xianle Pavilion, not counting all the discussion with Guoshi. Feng Xin needed to lie down. He had excused himself from His Highness The Crown Prince, who was in a happier mood than all the gloom that had happened to the three of them, feeling rather excited for the future prospect of finally journeying out of his boxed corners.
Feng Xin could not fault Xie Lian at that, he knew for a long time that Xie Lian had yearned to get out of his comfort path that had always been set out for him. In any way, Feng Xin would always follow him without any question.
Mu Qing though... Feng Xin thought the boy was as exhausted as he was, but he still caught him right around the corner like this.
“What can't you believe?” Feng Xin asked curiously.
“Look at the state of your hand,” the boy rolled his eyes.
His right hand was in a sling, a little frayed and uncomfortable to wear after all the fire commotions, and all Feng Xin could think of was how maybe he could try to fix this himself without having to seek for the Royal Holy Pavilion’s healers, since all he wanted to do was just rest somewhere comfortable. Obviously, with Mu Qing being here right now, he could not just dismiss the boy, Feng Xin was exhausted but he was still mindful of his own mannerisms.
Or so he thought.
“This? It’ll be fine on its own, I guess,” Feng Xin shrugged his good shoulder. “Anyways, are you done? If you’ll excuse me.”
Mu Qing was struck silent, seemingly wanting to say a few more before closing his mouth in slight defeat. Feng Xin was ready to turn around towards one of the makeshift temporary residences for the three, before Mu Qing finally found his speech.
“Wait!”
Feng Xin furrowed his eyebrows.
“You–you should fix the binding. It’s going to be uncomfortable if you don’t,” Mu Qing quipped with a tiny voice. Gone was the haughty he wore seconds ago, now his face painted with a tiny shred of concern.
“Of course I will.”
“I–I can help you with it,” Mu Qing said with unblinking determination.
Feng Xin in turn, was actually struck speechless, feeling unintentional warmth. Weird. Too weird. What came over Mu Qing, honestly?
“Um,” Feng Xin scratched his head. “Sure?”
And when Feng Xin entered one of the available chambers, Mu Qing followed after him.
Feng Xin looked around the room to find something, anything that could be used for treating his injury, but he absolutely had no idea what everything in here was. Having lived in Xianle Pavilion all this time, with all the set was to cater to the Crown Prince, in his eyes, everything felt out of place here. Mu Qing, however, was familiar with how the Royal Holy Pavilion uniformed the organization for every room, so he rummaged through and found a new piece of cloth and a pair of scissors.
In a daze, Feng Xin was brought to sit on the edge of the empty bed. Mu Qing began to work his way around skillfully, turning the piece of cloth into a long strand of band, enough to bind Feng Xin’s limb securely in a comfortable hold. Gentle hands carefully removed the old, frayed-and-dirty-with-soot sling, one hand attentively supported Feng Xin’s broken arm, the other began to wrap it once more with a new bind.
Feng Xin held his breath all the while and when Mu Qing finished, the last secure was knotted in meticulous proficiency.
The littlest tug on his heartstring was anything but secure, though. Weird.
“All done,” Mu Qing said shortly, it looked like the unconscious little smile he was holding was unrealized by the man himself.
Feng Xin caught a glimpse of it, and he was afraid the boy would notice how loud his heart was beating. Feng Xin knew precisely because his slinged right hand literally trembled against his own chest.
“Um, thanks,” Feng Xin said sincerely.
“It’s nothing,” Mu Qing told him, his face straight once more. Pretty-boy with a cold demeanor was back. “You need rest. You look horrible, did you know that?”
Adopting the boy’s habit of eye rolling was easy. He directed one to him just so Mu Qing knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end. “You’re not faring any better, asshole.”
Mu Qing humphed and got up to his feet, ready to retreat back to his own room.
“Good night,” Feng Xin mumbled just as Mu Qing took his third step towards the door. “See you tomorrow?”
“‘Night, idiot.”
Feng Xin knew whenever he got called an idiot by Mu Qing, it was sometimes because he got himself injured like this, and he thought he deserved such a biting call.
He made himself fall onto the bed with a loud thump, calming his wildly beating heartbeat, a small smile on his face before closing his eyes and breathing alight.
The next morning he felt a gentle tap on his left, dazedly shaken into wakefulness. He opened one eye slowly and could make out the looming figure on his bedside. The face was a reprimanding one, haughty frown on the crease of high pretty eyebrows.
“You fell asleep without even changing your clothes? Why do you live like this?” Mu Qing told him.
“A damn good morning to you too,” Feng Xin groaned the last bit of his sleepiness away.
“You’re a disgrace,” Mu Qing tsk-ed shortly.
“Fuck off, no one’s asking for your opinion,” Feng Xin wanted nothing but to fall back to his sleep, but he knew his duty calling, he should not slack away.
His hair was a mess of frayed knots since he slept with his usual bun still on all night long. No wonder he felt a little uncomfortable on the back of his head, but he could not even bother to take it off, so he brought this onto himself. Mu Qing was still wearing a look of disdain at Feng Xin.
“Clean yourself up, for heaven’s sake,” Mu Qing nagged, arms crossed, seemingly keeping his own frustration in it. “His Highness asked me to tell you that you’re off duty today because according to him you should not wear out your injury even though you’re most likely capable of it. Congratulations. You can be a disgrace all day long and nobody would complain about it,” Mu Qing added.
“Yeah. Nobody except you, obviously,” Feng Xin retorted, pulling the messy tie out of his own hair, shoulder-length strands falling in strays.
Mu Qing rolled his eyes. When he saw Feng Xin trying to get out of his worn-out robe painstakingly, leading into failure with only one good hand, Mu Qing stepped in. Carefully, he untied the sash around the belt, before slipping the front around the sling and the back carefully. Feng Xin’s eyes widened.
“W-what are you doing?” Feng Xin asked.
“You looked dumb when you’re struggling,” Mu Qing sighed. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t break any of yourself under the guise of a duty.”
In Mu Qing language it was roughly translated as I’m obviously helping you, you idiot.
Because the most baffling realization Feng Xin had ever concluded was that Mu Qing expressed himself more explicitly with actions first rather than words. Feng Xin knew this. Although it did not help with the fluster he felt to die down when more articles of clothing shed away.
And he absolutely sure knew that he did not need Mu Qing to take off his pants, so he stopped the boy from doing so.
“I can take care of this on my own,” Feng Xin said.
“Sure you can,” Mu Qing retorted with humph. “Can you bathe yourself though?”
“Of course I can. What, you’re gonna help me bathe too now?” Feng Xin asked, incredulous tone pitching higher than he intended.
“Only if you looked too stupid because you obviously can’t do things on your own,” Mu Qing smirked.
“And know that I think about your generosity every day.”
Feng Xin had seen the eye-roll coming the moment he thought about it. He could not help the tiny giggle escaping out of him. When he caught the widening eyes of the other boy, Feng Xin straightened his face before he seriously sparked anger out of Mu Qing who had good intentions of helping him out.
The boy only untied the sling on Feng Xin’s right carefully and let his broken arm fall limply on his side. It should be fine. It was just a broken bone, no external injury or anything, and it would be recovered in no time.
So he stepped into the adjacent chamber on the other side of his room before going into the water slowly to soak himself, hissing slightly at the temperature Mu Qing had set, but later welcoming it with a sigh. Feng Xin closed his eyes, drooping into tranquility.
He thought about how happy His Highness was when Guoshi told him it was time for him to travel. Feng Xin knew without doubt that he would follow His Highness if the latter asked. He practically had told him countless times that they would never separate. Journeying out together might be scary, but it could be exciting too. Many things to see, many things to experience, many things to cross.
But also, he could not help but wonder... would Mu Qing, though? Would he follow them too?
It would be nice, if he would, of course.
Wait–
He did not know how long he spaced out, and when he heard a knock on the wall, he opened his eyes hazily with a start.
“You okay in there?” came Mu Qing’s voice, the concern within it was like a stranger’s.
“Yeah. Just a little bit sleepy,” Feng Xin’s yawning came right after he said so. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Feng Xin rubbed his body with soap as much as he could, and then his hair. He rinsed himself clean, before drying off with a thick cloth he found on the wall. He put on a clean pair of inner pants, then he stepped out of the chamber.
Inside the room, Mu Qing was still there, standing beside the bed. There was a tray of food on the table at the other corner of the room. Mu Qing looked over the state of Feng Xin’s decently cleaned figure, and gave a slight nod.
“Dress up and have your breakfast,” Mu Qing said.
Then he helped Feng Xin dress in comfortable clothing since he was supposed to be resting for the day. His Highness’ order.
The attentive way of Mu Qing’s fussing made Feng Xin feel warm, or maybe it was just the bath he took a few minutes ago. But Feng Xin would not be complaining, he might as well soak up everything while he could. Mu Qing’s obvious kindness towards Feng Xin was a rarity after all.
After the sling was tied comfortably once more, Mu Qing dragged him towards the table where the food was.
“Breakfast,” Mu Qing only said before sitting at one side. Feng Xin nodded and sat across from the boy.
His hair was only half-dried, so he let it be. But somehow when he was eating, it got in the way. He had a mind to tie it up first, but with only one hand to do it, it would not be easy. Before he knew it, Mu Qing stood up and walked toward the dresser in the room and silently went back to Feng Xin’s side.
Feng Xin stopped eating and leaned towards Mu Qing a little bit, and the boy began to comb his hair gently. The tugging was relaxing and Feng Xin did not realize he was smiling, hidden away from the boy behind him.
A few minutes and two skillful hands later, Feng Xin’s hair was tied up tightly on his usual bun.
“All done. Now finish your breakfast, dumbass,” Mu Qing said, his tone was intended to be as if he was annoyed but it came out too warmly.
Feng Xin could only snort.
“Shouldn’t you be attending to His Highness?” Feng Xin asked him in between spoonful of soup.
“His Highness is doing his self-training today. He is absolutely capable of taking care of himself. You can stop your fussing over him for the day. You’re off-duty,” Mu Qing reminded him.
“I know. I’m just worried,” Feng Xin said.
And there was Mu Qing’s unreadable expression once again. Feng Xin could not draw anything out of it, he was just too strange, like a headache-inducing riddle. And Feng Xin hated riddles, he would rather put his brain at ease at all times if he could.
“Worry about yourself,” Mu Qing mumbled, barely caught on Feng Xin’s ears.
Mu Qing got up and walked around the room, heaping up the dirty clothes after he cleaned the adjacent chamber where Feng Xin had taken a bath.
“If you’re done with breakfast, drink your medicine. It’s on the left,” Mu Qing said, his hands were full of clothes to take out and clean. “And rest. It’s His Highness’s order,” Mu Qing added before walking towards the door.
There were a lot of things Feng Xin wanted to say, and he was once again reminded of how he had gotten tongue-tied and withheld the praises on the tip of his tongue about Mu Qing’s exquisite performance the other day. He knew if he did not say it now, he would never say it at all.
“Hey, Mu Qing, wait!” Feng Xin stood up and quickly dashed to block the other’s way.
The other looked up at him. They have similar height, but when Mu Qing dead set on a piercing stare right into his eyes, it felt a little bit unnerving.
“Um, I–thank you. For your help today, and the other day. I owe you a lot, you can like, keep this on my tab or something,” Feng Xin mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, being careful not to mess up the bun on his hair since he did not want to disregard the other’s gentle work.
“And–and you were awesome too, the other day. That performance at the ShangYuan festival, you were breathtaking, you know.”
I could not take my eyes off of you the whole time, he wanted to say, but Feng Xin held it back, feeling unwilling to say anything about something he was not even sure about... He was willing to keep it tucked away, whilst letting time to unveil it later. Probably.
Meanwhile, Mu Qing stood stunned, eyes widened in shock, then there was a faint blush creeping on his cheeks, and Feng Xin felt like he should not notice it, so he did not say anything about it.
Sometimes having things as pleasant as this kind of sight only I who had known of could be nice, he thought. So he held on to this little secret too.
Feng Xin waited for Mu Qing to come back to his senses on his own, and he knew he should not feel this giddy about this, but it was too hard to keep a straight face when Mu Qing looked too... uh, adorable.
After a blink, though, Mu Qing put on a faux-neutral face, as neutral as he could pull, but the deep blush betrayed every attempt. And then he purposefully made himself sound annoyed.
“Yes of course. You owe me one. Just know I’d be hanging this over your head for a long time,” Mu Qing said, adding a little eye-roll a little too late, a tinge of fondness as an aftertaste.
“Next time if you get injured, I’ll be the one taking care of you,” Feng Xin said warmly.
“There will be no next time, dummy. For the both of us,” Mu Qing told him.
That sounded like a promise, and Feng Xin rather liked it.