Work Text:
It’s unprecedented for Gods to come down once they’ve ascended.
When Mu Qing had heard that Xie Lian ascended, he'd figured that’s that. He’s seen the last of both Xie Lian and Feng Xin, and part of him aches while another feels relief in spite of that feeling. Losing the two people who ever paid him any mind is tough, at first, but Mu Qing tries to find comfort in the idea that his job is done. He’s free. He’s allowed to leave.
He cleans out the bedroom he was given, although the Queen tells him it’s more than fine if he stays. Should her son come back, naturally he would want to see his friends. All well and dandy, except that he knows Gods don’t come back. He keeps as quiet and as polite as ever, telling himself it’s better if he goes. Meager belongings in hand, he returns to the slums.
Everything is as it should be in the beginning and he’s back to meandering around. Babysitting here and there, doing odd jobs to ensure that there’s food for him and ailing mother. Mu Qing’s mind drifts occasionally as he works, scrubbing dishes as he thinks of the heavens. Wonders what they’re doing. He thinks it might be a good idea to pray, perhaps visit a temple. He has nothing to give, however, so just as quickly the idea of a visit seems pointless.
In a sea of voices, how could his be loudest?
Mu Qing busies himself, so when months turn to years he doesn’t notice them. His hair grows longer, he grows taller, he even gets stronger. As he ages, the capital city ages with him. No one expects things to begin to degrade so quickly. The slums become even more inhospitable and as the people become more driven by their too palpable tension and fear.
He comes to understand how little status means when a kingdom is quickly approaching ruin. Although royalty has always lived off the backs of their workers, the lines were beginning to blur. Neat borders that separated nobles from people like Mu Qing who scavenge around were slowly becoming one in the same.
Mu Qing laughs, and assures himself that this is just karma.
Three years of struggle and war consume the city until its God finally comes down in a blaze of fury. That’s what they said at least, that his highness, the crown prince of Xian Le has returned. The world turns on its head and the populace feels like things will be magically saved.
Mu Qing can't bring himself to look in the same direction.
He’s content to continue toiling away until the day he receives a message from Xie Lian himself. Despite his avoidance of the shrines, despite it being three years. The message reads:
“Meet us where we would call home. The shaded garden where the pavilion once stood. Only if it isn’t too much trouble, of course.”
Mu Qing’s eyes cast downard, thinking that it’s such a simple request. This is something he doesn’t need to agree to. He's taken off the shackles of the palace what felt like thousands of years ago. He’d just gotten done forgetting. Yet, his fingers tightened on the note, crumpling the corners when he doesn't nmean to. Finds he can’t turn away when they're mild orders.
With a solemn lie of “I’ll be back soon.” to his mother, he runs out the door.
The sun bestows its rays on a new beginning, Mu Qing realizes as he runs through streets filled with early risers. When he passes by, memories he’s long held back slowly bubble to the surface. Three years wasn’t long enough to forget them, three years wasn’t even long enough to forget Feng Xin as much as he actively tried. He thinks about what they’ll look like.
Otherworldly, he tells himself, they’ll look untouchable. Worlds apart from you. That’s why you never visited those shrines, because you’re scared of the gap.
He buries that little voice deep in the corners of his heart. Mu Qing once thought himself like them. Even if Feng Xin was there to ruin every good memory he might've had, he felt close to them. They had been within reach. Now, he’s not so sure he could even stand before them with his head held high.
The former Xian Le pavilion is on the other side of town, so his lungs hurt as he runs to get there in his haste. Vague wonders cloud his frenzy-addled mind, asking if he's absolutely sure he wants to see Xie Lian or Feng Xin right now. Especially Feng Xin. Does he miss either of them, does he want to be with either of them? Will he stand next to them in glory or be burned by their new found light. The answers are too complicated, so he kicks them aside for analysis later.
When he reaches the forgotten pavilion, he feels older than he actually is. Mu Qing travels beyond broken steps, slipping through until he finds a narrow passageway. He follows the tucked away path until it opens into a field of patches of brown and green. Mu Qing casts a passing glance at the wilting flowers and vacant trees.
He couldn't help but think the garden died the moment Xie Lian ascended.
Cutting a trail through the drying patches, he moves dying branches out of the way until he reaches a small structure. It stands taller than it is wide, a place that Mu Qing almost forgot existed. It would’ve been for the better, he reasons. Because when he looks around, muscle memory kicks in and he scours around bushes until he finds a key. Covered in dirt, but still intact, it’s the same key he let go of the day he decided he was never coming back here again.
Mu Qing opens the door and what awaits him stuns him into silence. An ethereal glow envelopes the two of them, but Xie Lian’s is much more pronounced. Their clothing shines, and they even feel older spite the fact Mu Qing knows they’re all the same age.
Xie Lian hears him come in and turns around, lips forming a smile. “Mu Qing. You came.”
Feng Xin looks up at him, and Mu Qing locks eyes with him. He doesn’t know what to make of his expression until Feng Xin made a dismissive noise. Deciding to pay it no mind, Mu Qing turns his attention to Xie Lian. “Your highness?” He says quietly, almost afraid to step closer.
Xie Lian has no problem coming over, however, pulling Mu Qing into a light embrace. “It hasn’t been so long, but it feels like an eternity.”
Mu Qing doesn’t return the gesture and instead waits for Xie Lian to pull away. His hands rest light on Mu Qing’s shoulders while he talks. “You’ve managed to get taller.” Xie Lian notes. “You look stunning too. How have you been?”
Mu Qing holds the compliments for a brief moment before letting them wash over him. “You called for me.” He begins, ignoring the question entirely. “I’m wondering what it is that you need me for, your highness.”
Feng Xin speaks up before Xie Lian does. “You know, most people say I’ve been okay when they’re asked how they’ve been.”
Mu Qing clenches his fists and Xie Lian notices, reacting quickly. “Come now. We’ve been apart for some time. No fighting for now at least. If you have a lot of spare time we can do idiom trains.”
Feng Xin closes his mouth and Mu Qing relaxes. Xie Lian seems content, and follows next with something Mu Qing wasn’t expecting. “You asked why I called. And it’s honestly really simple. Because I’ve decided to descend, I thought we could use this place again like a home. Just like old times.”
Any pride Mu Qing might’ve felt about being someone Xie Lian called personally just floats right out of him. Just as quickly, a sense of ungratefulness wafts over. He should’ve been grateful, happy even. They came down to take care of the capital, save it from it’s perilous fate. If they wanted to pretend and play house, was Mu Qing in any place to really disagree? He yearns for this, he realizes. The more he looks at a still smiling Xie Lian, the more the feeling cements in him.
Xie Lian. Who is the correct path for the human world, the heart of the universe. Him and this boy before him who came running at his beck and call like a true servant were on two different points on the spectrum. One was so important he became a God, the other was Mu Qing. Maybe he was revolting, and that’s why his stomach was flipping. He should be honored he’s remembered at all. He has importance in the life of his God. That should be enough.
He’s grateful. He lies.
“Whatever his highness needs, as always, I’m here.”
It’s easy enough for Mu Qing after that point.
He opts to count seconds using the tips of his fingers against furniture as he sweeps. His schedule is easy to follow, more often than not he just doesn’t go home. As the broom he’s using scrapes against the floor, he thinks to himself. Forelornly, he stares out the window into the garden beyond.
Mu Qing isn’t someone who complains often, at least not about his plight. Between this and and working, he’s on his feet around the clock. His legs grow accustomed, so as long as he doesn’t think about it, even meaningless work feels like something.
He tries not to let the wondering get to him. Wondering what that battlefield is like, feeling as though he needs to be there. An emptiness rings in the vacant corners of his heart, it leaves him frowning. Xie Lian and Feng Xin battle on the frontlines, that was their place. His was here, alone amongst brick walls and dust. It’s incredible to him, how much these things egg him on now than in the last three years he’d been without them.
Mu Qing hums as he tries to phase out the thoughts.
He’s been here two weeks, long enough to learn where everything was by heart and reacquaint himself with furnishings and longing.
The door unlocks behind him as he’s setting aside the broom and Mu Qing turns around in time to spot Feng Xin coming in alone through the door. This was another common occurrence, Xie Lian is more important than Feng Xin afterall. If he needs to stay behind for something trivial, he has no problem sending Feng Xin back.
Of course the issue ends up being that Mu Qing isn’t fond of Feng Xin coming back. Their eyes meet for a moment and Feng Xin looks ready to say something to him, so Mu Qing coolly turns away. With his back turned, he unties the band around his wrist, focusing on tying his hair back up.
To his surprise, Feng Xin doesn’t say anything. He hears the clattering of items as they’re dropped instead, so Mu Qing figures he’s avoided another pointless confrontation. Once his hair is tied, he moves toward the kitchen.
Ignoring Feng Xin is an art form he’s hastily tried to master. Mu Qing acts as though he’s a child. He has no object permanence unless he’s angry, he tells himself, so go into another room. Feng Xin has a face he makes right before he’s ready to fight, so Mu Qing turns away. Making eye contact with him is a giant no-no. If someone came in and didn’t know any better, they’d assume he was afraid.
They’d be wrong of course. What bubbles like tar in his blood is far from fear.
It's for Xie Lian, he tells himself, why he tolerates his abhorrent behavior. While Mu Qing himself can’t say he’s ever been particularly well liked by many, he at least listens. He has skills that make up for the fact that his personality wasn’t well received. What did Feng Xin have?
He has more than you’ve ever had, the little voice in his head reminds him, dousing him like a bucket of cold water. Remember that.
Mu Qing’s stuffing the annoying voice rattling in his head away when he hears footsteps coming in his direction. No one’s opened the door again, he’s sure he would’ve noticed. So it must be--
“Oi.”
Mu Qing rolls his eyes, setting down the dishes preemptively to give his hands less items to potentially throw. “What do you want?”
“Why the hell are you always doing this shit for?” Feng Xin asks him.
Why?
...Just what did he mean by why?
Mu Qing’s so stunned he turns his head. “...What?”
Feng Xin scoffs. “What, don’t have ears?” He comments, leaning against a door frame.
He finds he’s suddenly irritated. “Excuse me, then. What are you even talking about?”
A shrug is what Mu Qing receives. “Been here for a bit, seems like all you do is basic shit you don’t need to do.”
Don’t need to do? He can't be serious can he? Why else would Xie Lian have him here? The stark difference between them is all Mu Qing needs as proof.
He decides against saying anything and starts busying himself instead. Mu Qing picks a plate out of the pile and dunks it in the bucket in front of him. Behind him, he hears Feng Xin click his tongue against his teeth. “Fine then, do menial crap. You seem to enjoy it the most.”
A thread snaps inside him and he’s ready to turn around, nostrils flaring. Breath haggard, he shoots him a glare so sharp that Mu Qing was sure if it had any power behind it it’d make Feng Xin’s head pop.
Feng Xin notices and furrows his brows. “What’s the big deal? Who made you mad this time?”
Mu Qing’s ready to throw the plate in his hand at his stupid boulbus head when he catches himself. Instead he tries to reign back his anger--which takes more effort than he’s willing to admit. “Are you bored? Go bother someone else.”
Feng Xin tosses a glare right back. “What're you getting pissed off for again?! Do you really like doing all these stupid chores?!”
What else is he supposed to do here if he isn't doing that?
He’s not a God. He’s not even a middle official. Hell, he’s not Xie Lian’s right hand or even his left. He's not the one taken into battle. Instead, Mu Qing’s days are spent cleaning, working, running around and trying to provide.
Did the bastard not benefit from this work as well? Although they were Gods they ate on occasion, and even if they did not eat, Mu Qing isn’t an immortal. He never got a chance to cultivate. So why act so senseless?
Maybe he’s trying to remind you how temporary your place is. The voice is light, humming in his head. He crushes it under his heel.
“If you have nothing useful to add you can get out.” Mu Qing spits, and Feng Xin is on him.
Despite not being formally trained, the moment Mu Qing hears footsteps come in his direction he knows what to do. He jerks out of the way just as Feng Xin comes up against the bucket. Not giving his back to Feng Xin for too long comes to mind, although it doesn’t line up with not meeting him eye to eye. Unfortunately for Mu Qing, Feng Xin has never been keen on following rules for long.
Feng Xin’s hand slams against the rim of the bucket as Mu Qing turns around, snarl set firmly on his face. He looks ready to throw it and Mu Qing is ready to run. The thought of running makes him nauseous.
“Every single time I come in here it's the same shit! Always one step from throwing a damn tantrum, I didn’t even say anything bad to you!” Feng Xin shouts, gripping onto the bucket so hard it starts to crack under his strength.
Mu Qing doesn’t say anything, he feels like he can’t. There’s something closing shut around his throat.
The door opens then, a voice like soothing waves rolling in. “Feng Xin? Mu Qing? Are you both here?” Xie Lian calls as he closes the door behind him.
He hates it. Mu Qing absolutely hates it. He hates how easily Feng Xin forgets his own irritation, how each confrontation seems to be passing fancy set off by him being bored. He’s already let go of the bucket, giving him one final look before smiling beyond the entrance to the kitchen. “In here!”
Xie Lian enters, bright expression on his face. “It’s so good to see you both, you weren’t fighting again were you--” They both freeze, which tells XIe Lian everything. “...Really? I won’t make you do idiom trains since it’s already over, so instead we’ll focus on something else.”
He’s still angry.
Feng Xin steps forward, noticing the bag in his hands. “Did you stop by somewhere?”
“Ah? You would be right.” Xie Lian raises the bag. “I wanted to help out a local grocer. So I picked some things up.”
“Oh? Although we don’t really need to eat anymore?” Feng Xin says with a laugh, arms crossed.
He’s too angry for words.
Xie Lian seems sheepish and waves him off. “We can still eat even if we don’t need to. Besides, Mu Qing still needs to.” He answers, still grinning.
Feng Xin shrugs. “Oh, right. Forgot about that.” His voice holds mild indifference, like he forgot but wouldn’t have placed any importance on that piece of information anyway.
It’s something sinister, Mu Qing abruptly decides. There’s a tumbling deep in his soul that’s pulling at it, filling him with frustration. He doesn’t like it. A combination of the disregard, the senseless argument, and the over prevailing sensation of powerlessness. This doesn’t feel like him.
He’s still so uncomfortably angry.
“I need to go do something.” He says through gritted teeth, catching them both off guard.
“..Oh, is that so?” Xie Lian deflates a little.
Feng Xin’s eyes narrow in his direction, but Mu Qing forces himself to at least bow slightly toward Xie Lian. This seems to also startle him. “...Apologies, your highness.”
Xie Lian sounds too concerned for his own good. “Why are you…”
Mu Qing decides not to let him respond and instead makes his way out of the kitchen, heading out and following the path through the garden. Once he leaves he feels better, but the feeling lingers. These feelings were a bit much, even for someone like him.
He decides he’ll come back the next day, once he’s had time to think. Once he's had time to settle back in his precious routine as ordained by his highness.
A decision, he soon discovers is one he'll come to regret in the end.