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When another servant told Mu Qing that Xie Lian requested him to come to his room, he knew something was off.

Not “off” like Xie Lian was in danger or anything was wrong. “Off” in the way like he would be dragged into a situation he shouldn’t be in.

It wasn’t like Xie Lian never requested him through other people—it happened quite often, Mu Qing being his personal servant and all. Yet, Mu Qing had a twisting feeling in his gut that Xie Lian didn’t call him over for any servant duties. Call it instinct.

As soon as Mu Qing entered the doors to Xie Lian’s chamber and took one look at Xie Lian’s awaiting face, he knew he was right. Goddamnit.

Mu Qing loved being right, but sometimes he wished he were wrong.

“What do you want, Your Highness?” Mu Qing said, breaking the silence. His tone lacked any and all formality, despite the title, but he was past the point of caring. After all, Xie Lian had insisted that they were friends and should speak to each other as such.

Xie Lian feigned a look of confusion. “Me? Want something? You must be mistaken. I only want to spend time with you,” he said innocently.

Mu Qing stared at Xie Lian with a deadpan expression for a few aggravating seconds. And then, he promptly turned around to walk out the door.

“Woah, woah, not so fast,” Xie Lian said, sliding in front of him, blocking him from the exit. “Fine, I do have something I want,” he admitted.

“Get on with it then,” Mu Qing huffed.

Xie Lian twirled away with grace, somehow not tripping on his robes. He made his way to the dresser, where he picked up a letter. He returned in front of Mu Qing, offering him the letter.

Mu Qing took it with suspicion. The front of the letter had his name written in neat calligraphy—definitely Xie Lian’s handwriting. He opened it up carefully, curious and cautious. As soon as he read the first word, Mu Qing knew what the letter was about. It was an invitation to the masquerade ball held to find Xie Lian a suitor.

“So…?” Xie Lian said, looking at Mu Qing’s face for any reaction.

“I already got one of these,” Mu Qing said blandly.

“I know! But I wrote this one so it’s special,” Xie Lian insisted.

“It doesn’t matter because I’m not going anyway,” Mu Qing replied.

Xie Lian was taken aback. “What? Why aren’t you going?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, I have no interest in courting you,” Mu Qing said simply.

Xie Lian blushed bright red at the implications. “No! Not like that.”

“Like what, then? The entire point of attending the masquerade is to have a chance to court you.”

“For most people,” Xie Lian corrected. “But for you, you could meet new people and socialize! It’s a great opportunity.”

“I don’t need to socialize.”

“Yes, you do. And don’t look at me like that—you know I’m right!” Xie Lian said when Mu Qing glared at him.

“I’m still not going.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Mu Qing turned on his heel to walk out once again.

On his way out, he heard Xie Lian speak up from behind him. 

“Mu Qing…”

Something in his voice made Mu Qing turn around.

When he turned around, he was met with the guilt wrecking sight of Xie Lian, with his eyes glassy and bottom lip trembling. It was painfully obvious that he was faking that expression, yet he successfully guilt-tripped Mu Qing anyway.

Give me strength, Mu Qing wished to the heavens above. Xie Lian was an incredibly sweet individual, but sometimes Mu Qing forgot that he wasn’t above petty manipulation.

“Your Highness- don’t- no- stop-,” deep inhale, “Please,” Mu Qing pleaded.

And then Xie Lian had the absolute audacity to let a fake tear slip from his watery eyes, all while staring him down.

Mu Qing went into a dilemma. He could refuse to go to the masquerade and have Xie Lian bother him about this for days, or accept to go and endure five hours of sulking in the corner, watching everyone and their mother try to find and woo Xie Lian. Mu Qing begrudgingly admitted that he would much rather the latter—he could deal with a few hours of loneliness, but he could not deal with Xie Lian being a menace for who knows long.

“Fine,” Mu Qing said, caving in. “I’ll go to the masquerade.”

Xie Lian’s sniffles stopped, and his expression broke into a bright smile, no trace of the sadness from before.

“I knew you’d come around!” Xie Lian said, wrapping him in a hug.

Mu Qing awkwardly hugged Xie Lian back before pulling away. “I’m… going to finish my duties,” Mu Qing said, fleeing the room quickly. He didn’t have any more duties for the day, but he was not going to confront his issues with physical intimacy today.

Mu Qing walked towards the servant quarters, which were quite a ways away from Xie Lian’s chamber. He made several twists and turns through different hallways to get there. Approaching closer to his destination, he made a sharp turn at the intersection of two hallways. Unfortunately, with the wall blocking his vision, he didn’t know someone else was walking in the opposite direction, about to turn the corner as well.

The second Mu Qing turned the corner, he collided with another body. Mu Qing fell back from the sudden impact, while the other person stumbled a bit too. Mu Qing was about to collide with the ground, when the other person swiftly reached out their arm to grab his arm, yanking him upright once more.

Mu Qing quickly regained his senses and looked up to see who the other person was. And, of course, it was none other than Feng Xin—His Highness’ bodyguard and Mu Qing’s nemesis. Nemesis was a bit of a strong word, but how else was Mu Qing supposed to describe his heart-pounding hatred in his chest whenever he took a glimpse of Feng Xin’s face?

Mu Qing drew his arm back immediately. He could feel himself flush from embarrassment. Why did it have to be Feng Xin of all people? Couldn’t I have bumped into someone else?

Like all situations, Mu Qing responded with his first instinct: snark. “Can you not look where you’re going?” he scoffed.

Feng Xin’s mouth dropped open as if he couldn’t believe what Mu Qing was saying. He recovered instantly and argued, “How would I have known you were turning the corner at the same? I can’t see through walls, you know!”

“You should’ve been able to hear my footsteps!” Mu Qing said, ignoring how hypocritical he was being.

“If anyone’s at fault here, it’s you,” Feng Xin deflected. “You should be grateful I caught you when you fell anyway.”

“I would rather have fallen than have you catch me,” Mu Qing spat. That was a lie, but Feng Xin didn’t need to know that.

Feng Xin huffed in exasperation. “You. Are so frustrating,” he said through gritted teeth.

“The feeling is mutual,” Mu Qing assured, brushing past Feng Xin. 

As entertaining as it would be to inconvenience Feng Xin, he couldn’t spend the entire day arguing with him. He had other things to get to, after all.

Namely, mentally preparing for the atrocity of an event he agreed to attend.

----------

Mu Qing never should have agreed to come to the masquerade.

Due to past Mu Qing’s mistakes, current Mu Qing was stuck to the wall in the grand hall, watching people try to find Xie Lian to have the chance to marry him. He heard far too many whispers and conversations of theories, all concerned over which mask His Highness was behind. All anyone cared about was marrying into royalty—which was fair, given the benefits, but still shitty behavior.

Of course, Mu Qing knew which mask His Highness wore, as well as the clothes he chose along with it. Simple off-white robes paired with a simple matching mask decorated His Highness’ body. In fact, Mu Qing thought his attire was so inconspicuous, that it raised suspicion by itself. He was easily one of the most underdressed at the event. Even those with low or baseless incomes scrounged up the best robes and masks they could find. Yet he still figured no one would notice—people weren’t very observant. Everyone seemed to be going for those with the most detailed and intricate outfits anyway.

Mu Qing was not one of the people with detailed or intricate outfits, so he wasn’t in the target zone. That wasn’t to say he was badly dressed—he was certainly dressed quite nicely. With his grey-blue robes and suitable mask, he fit right in. His clothes were the perfect mix of quality and simplicity to keep him from standing out. And Mu Qing didn’t want to stand out at the masquerade, which is precisely why he attempted to camouflage in the background.

As Mu Qing leaned on the wall, he tried to pick out people from the crowd that he knew. Everyone had masks on, but Mu Qing was confident that he’d be able to recognize those he knew behind a covering. He scanned the crowd, recognizing some people that danced by. He recognized a few servants, bodyguards, and even some childhood friends from the village he grew up in. All were smiling and dancing happily, which made Mu Qing sulk further.

While identifying people, Mu Qing noticed someone missing from the crowd: Feng Xin. He skimmed the room in sight of him, but he was nowhere to be seen. Which was strange, considering Mu Qing expected Xie Lian to beg Feng Xin to come as well. Either that didn’t happen, or Feng Xin was able to deny Xie Lian’s request. Mu Qing didn’t know which situation was more likely.

Either way, Mu Qing didn’t care. He really didn’t. Sure—he’d rather argue with Feng Xin than drown in the pretentious atmosphere of the masquerade, but he would never admit that aloud.

If Mu Qing was going to be at this ridiculous event for multiple hours, he was going to make the most of it.

And by that, he meant he was going to continue standing against the wall, glaring at anyone who dared come close. And also getting lost in thought and spacing off.

Unfortunately, his spacing off session was timed badly.

Because while he was in his head, someone bumped into him, throwing him off his center of balance.

Mu Qing braced for the cold impact of the floor, but it never came. Instead, an arm reached out to wrap around his waist, saving him from multiple bruises.

Mu Qing’s mouth immediately opened to spit words as a defense mechanism. However, the other person beat him to speaking.

“Are you okay?”

The person’s words caught Mu Qing off guard. All insults and responses died on his tongue as he fumbled for his words. He couldn’t remember the last time someone said such things to him, much less the last time someone rendered him speechless.

And then Mu Qing made the mistake of meeting the person’s eyes. Even behind the charcoal grey and red mask, he could see the genuine concern in the person’s honey warm eyes. Suddenly, it felt like his heart was struck by lightning and warmth spread throughout his entire body.

The stranger placed Mu Qing back on his feet slowly, making sure he was steady. Yet Mu Qing was too distracted by the sudden change of temperature to notice.

When Mu Qing started to come to his senses again, he realized he hadn’t responded to the stranger still standing in front of him.

“I’m alright…” Mu Qing said finally.

“Are you sure? Your face is quite red,” the stranger pointed out.

Mu Qing’s face flamed up further. He crossed his arms and turned his head by instinct. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, expecting the stranger to leave.

However, the stranger didn’t seem intent on leaving. “Well that’s good. Sorry for bumping into you,” they said, rubbing the back of their neck. “My name’s Nan Feng.”

Mu Qing opened his mouth to respond with his name, but the words fell short when he remembered where he was. He was in a masquerade ball. It wasn’t customary to give your real name to someone while at the event. He wasn’t sure whether “Nan Feng” was the stranger’s real name, but he wasn’t going to take a chance by giving him his real name in return.

Regrettably, Mu Qing did not pick an alias before the event. He wrongly assumed nobody would approach him and he’d been left alone for the duration of the masquerade.

He quickly searched his mind for a name to go by. Suddenly, he was struck with a memory of taking care of one of the children from his hometown. He couldn’t quite recall the name of the child at the moment, but he did remember that the child’s older brother’s name was Fu Yao. He may or may not have remembered his name because he had a crush on the brother, but it was all in the past nevertheless. The original Fu Yao wouldn’t know if he took his name for a day anyway.

“You can call me Fu Yao,” Mu Qing responded politely.

“Fu Yao,” Nan Feng said like he was tasting the feel of his name. “Would you care to dance with me?” he said, extending his hand as an invitation.

Mu Qing stared at the hand offered to him. Under most circumstances, he would refuse immediately. Socializing was draining, especially with strangers. However, something inside him made him hesitate. Something was calling him towards Nan Feng. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he’d be damned if he didn’t find out.

With caution, Mu Qing flicked his gaze back up to Nan Feng’s eyes and placed his hand in his outstretched one. “Sure,” he answered.

And so Nan Feng pulled him away from the wall, whisking him away to dance.

Placing one hand on his shoulder, and the other on his waist, Nan Feng asked, “So what brings you here?”

“The only reason anyone comes here: to get a chance with the prince,” Mu Qing said, lying through his teeth.

“Oh? You didn’t seem all that intent on getting with His Highness before,” Nan Feng pointed out.

Was he watching me before he bumped into me? Shit. How did I not notice? Mu Qing thought internally.

“I wouldn’t want to impose my presence on him,” Mu Qing lied again. That was definitely a lie since Mu Qing was paid to impose his presence on Xie Lian, given that he was his servant and all.

“Hm. Something tells me you aren’t telling the truth,” Nan Feng said, cocking his head at him. “Want to give it another go?”

Mu Qing tsked. “Fine, a friend asked me to go, and here I am.”

Mu Qing was proud that he got through that sentence without stuttering on “friend.” Character development.

“And where is your friend?” Nan Feng asked.

“Trying their hand at wooing the prince,” Mu Qing said. It was another lie, but he couldn’t very well say that said friend was the prince.

Nan Feng hummed in response. To Mu Qing’s relief, he didn’t press for more details.

Keeping the conversation running, Mu Qing reversed the question on him. “What about you? Why did you come here?”

“Same as you. A friend wanted me to come here.”

“And that friend is…”

“Also trying to get with His Highness.”

Mu Qing looked at Nan Feng in skepticism. He wasn’t quite sure if he was mocking him for his answers to his questions, but he couldn’t detect any malicious behavior radiating off him.

Mu Qing did not know how to continue the conversation. It was one of the reasons he didn’t make it a habit to socialize with others—he didn’t know how to progress the conversation past small talk, yet he hated small talk. If he didn’t think of something to say, it would get awkward fast.

Lucky for him, an opportunity was handed to him.

A few milliseconds later, Nan Feng stepped on Mu Qing’s foot while dancing.

Mu Qing’s instantaneous reaction was to lash out. Which he did.

“Are you incapable of dancing correctly?” Mu Qing said before processing the words he was saying.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it. Perhaps hanging around Feng Xin affected his social skills more than he realized.

However, instead of being offended like Mu Qing expected he would be, Nan Feng laughed it off.

“You’re one to talk for someone who’s nearly tripped twice since we started dancing,” Nan Feng countered, lips quirked up.

Mu Qing didn’t know what he expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t handing his insult back. A familiar fire lit inside his chest.

“I’m still a better dancer than you,” Mu Qing said.

“Are you?” Nan Feng teased.

All of a sudden, Nan Feng dipped Mu Qing down, faces mere inches away from the other.

“Prove it.”

Mu Qing’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on.”

They resumed their original dancing positions, but this time, with a new motive. Both of them tried their best at dancing, carefully placing their feet, attempting to best the other. Mu Qing didn’t know how long this charade went for. His mind was focused on winning their competition, and winning their competition only. He would not be the first to back down.

After a lot of time had passed, their movements became sluggish and clumsy with exhaustion. Still, neither of them was willing to give up and lose. They were practically falling over each other, though neither backed down. It got to the point where they were leaning on each other for support, unable to move their feet from fatigue. Mu Qing could feel other people stare at them since they looked out of place.

When their eyes met again, they silently agreed that they were done dancing. They limped outside together, feet sore from dancing. They found a fountain and sat on the edge of it.

“I won,” Mu Qing announced, speaking up first.

“No you didn’t, you tripped over my feet over ten times,” Nan Feng argued.

“Sounds like your feet were in the way,” Mu Qing rebutted. “And you stepped on my feet twenty times!”

“It was twice.”

“Same thing.”

They fell into a temporary silence, relaxing in each other’s presence as their feet rested. Mu Qing took this opportunity to look over Nan Feng properly. In the artificial and dim lighting of the palace, it was difficult to fully make out what Nan Feng looked like. Now, in the natural moonlight, he could see Nan Feng for what he really looked like.

And wow. The dim lighting inside certainly did not do him justice. Though Mu Qing sat right next to him, and therefore couldn’t see him straight on, he knew this man was blessed. From his tied-up brown hair to his broad shoulders to his strong legs, he was the epitome of attractiveness. Though he couldn’t see under his mask, Mu Qing assumed that he was quite handsome underneath it. 

His heartbeat sped up from thinking about his new acquaintance’s looks. Could it be that he was… jealous? Yet Mu Qing knew what jealousy felt like, and it felt way different from the emotion he was feeling now. Though he couldn’t think what else such a feeling could be, if not jealousy.

Mu Qing continued to ponder over his emotional predicament, oblivious to his environment.

“My eyes are up here,” Nan Feng said, snapping Mu Qing out of his daze.

He met his eyes as he processed the meaning of his words. His face burned as he realized his eyes were still roaming Nan Feng’s body while he spaced out.

Oh, how embarrassed he was for being called out for doing such a thing. He stuttered in defense but knew it was useless. He knew he had to apologize for the rude action, so he mentally prepared himself. 

Yet, before he could speak, Nan Feng spoke again.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it was cute.”

Mu Qing’s face flushed further if that was even possible. He covered his lower face with his hand in case Nan Feng could see his blush peeking from his mask.

Nan Feng didn’t seem to notice that his cheeks were blushing madly, as he just smiled at him brightly, genuine as ever. His smile felt like the light of a thousand suns. It may have been midnight, but it turned to day real quick for Mu Qing.

What’s more is that Nan Feng scooted slightly closer to him, which only accelerated Mu Qing’s heartbeat.

And, to his own surprise, Mu Qing didn’t scoot away.

He didn’t want to scoot away.

He wanted to sit next to Nan Feng and get to know him better. He wanted to sit under the moonlight with someone who was practically a stranger. He wanted, but couldn't figure out why. His head hurt when he tried to reason out Nan Feng’s strange magnetism.

But even if he couldn’t justify his wants, he could still act on them.

Thus, Mu Qing conversed with Nan Feng, words flowing freely without fear or discomfort in the presence of his newly formed acquaintance. They spoke for so long about everything and anything: their hobbies, habits, values, friends—all of it. While Mu Qing made sure not to drop information that would compromise his identity, he shared far more than he anticipated he would. Nan Feng had that aura about him that made Mu Qing drop his guard. At least partially. 

Although Mu Qing shared a lot, he also learned a lot. He learned that Nan Feng enjoyed archery, had one or two best friends (he didn’t seem sure about one of them), and valued friendship and loyalty greatly. And also that he had an infectious laugh—he didn’t learn that from Nan Feng’s words, but Mu Qing’s stomach turned when he heard that stomachache-inducing sound. All the small details about Nan Feng made him more intriguing to Mu Qing; he wanted to stay longer and know all of them.

To Mu Qing’s misfortune, his time with Nan Feng would have to be cut short. Because as they chatted, the bell went off, signaling the end of the event. Everyone was expected to depart in a time-efficient manner, so they couldn’t push the boundaries of their stay.

Of course, Mu Qing lived and worked at the palace, and therefore was required to stay. But Nan Feng didn’t know that, and Mu Qing wasn’t planning on telling him.

With disappointment in his heart, Mu Qing walked with Nan Feng towards the exit. Judging by Nan Feng’s body language, he didn’t want to leave either. That notion put his heart at ease, that Nan Feng enjoyed speaking to him as much as he did.

As they exited the premises, Nan Feng turned toward him. “I had a great time with you today. Thank you.” He offered a small smile towards Mu Qing before departing to, presumably, go home.

Mu Qing blankly watched Nan Feng leave, his smile replaying in his mind. He’d been so caught up in his thoughts that he forgot to return his thanks. He hoped Nan Feng knew he appreciated his company. Though it would be embarrassing to say aloud, he certainly deserved Mu Qing’s gratitude for making the masquerade far more bearable.

Mu Qing waited for a bit to make sure the other masquerade goers were heading home out of sight. After the coast was clear, he made his way back to the palace through the servant passages. He slipped into his quarter, dressing out of his presentable robes and into more comfortable ones. He did his nightly routine like usual, getting into bed at the end.

It was a long night, and Mu Qing fell asleep fast. Thoughts of the masquerade and Nan Feng bounced around his head as he drifted off, replaying the memories over and over again.

----------

“So… how was it?” Xie Lian asked excitedly, eyes darting between Feng Xin and Mu Qing.

Xie Lian had called them to his room earlier out of the blue. Now, it seemed clear why he was so eager to talk to them.

Mu Qing and Feng Xin currently sat on one side of the table, while Xie Lian sat on the other half, interrogating them about their time at the masquerade yesterday. Mu Qing wasn’t even aware Feng Xin had come to the event, as he didn’t see him at all. He was probably off failing miserably at getting someone to dance with him, he figured.

As for Xie Lian’s question, Mu Qing didn’t know what to say. He looked down at his lap, flushing at the memories from the night before. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to answer, he just didn’t know how. 

Though if he did know how to answer, he still probably wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Feng Xin beat him in answering. The only thing Feng Xin would ever beat him at, Mu Qing thought sarcastically.

“It was fun,” Feng Xin said simply in response to Xie Lian. His reply was strange, as Feng Xin was the type to share every little detail about stuff like that. So it was either Feng Xin had a boring time and was trying to appease Xie Lian, or… something else happened.

Once Mu Qing snuck a look at Feng Xin’s face, he could tell it was the latter. His cheeks were dusted with a light red overlay and he appeared skittish. His eyes flashed around the room in a totally not normal Feng Xin manner. Mu Qing let his eyes gaze down at his lips, seeing that Feng Xin was subtly biting on his lower one.

Who could’ve made Feng Xin act like this? Mu Qing thought, a strange bitterness seeping into him. He didn’t know why he felt resentful, as he himself met someone who’d piqued his interest yesterday. As soon as the brief thought of Nan Feng crossed his mind, his thoughts of Nan Feng multiplied, drowning out his speculations about Feng Xin.

“Fun? That’s it?” Xie Lian said, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. He was thinking what Mu Qing was thinking—this was suspicious behavior.

“Yeah, what more is there to say?” Feng Xin responded with a frown, eyebrows furrowing.

Xie Lian merely hummed, not wanting to push Feng Xin for information. He obviously wasn’t going to tell either of them about last night anytime soon.

Since Xie Lian’s mini interrogation of Feng Xin was over, he turned to Mu Qing. “And you?” he asked.

Since “I don’t know” didn’t seem to be an appropriate or believable answer for Xie Lian, no matter how true, Mu Qing had to brainstorm for another one. Therefore, he said the first thing that came to mind:

“It was good.”

Now if Xie Lian had been shocked at Feng Xin’s reply, he was flabbergasted at Mu Qing’s. Both Xie Lian and Feng Xin stared at him like he’d grown a second head, mouths parted in surprise.

Honestly, Mu Qing wouldn’t be surprised if he had grown a second head—one that had a mouth to speak what Mu Qing just said. He didn’t want responsibility for that stupid, simple, idiotic phrase coming out of his mouth.

Why did I say that? I’ve never said anything like that before. They’re going to find out everything that happened yesterday. I’m done for. My dignity is dead, Mu Qing thought, words swirling in his head.

“Good?” Feng Xin spoke. “Since when do you think anything is good? Especially a public event.”

“None of your business,” Mu Qing replied. Saying that was not a good choice. He only confirmed Feng Xin’s suspicions further. Oh well.

Mu Qing turned to Xie Lian, only to see him smiling with glassy eyes. He clasped Mu Qing’s hands in his, staring directly into his soul as his eyes welled up.

“I’m so proud of you. You’ve finally come out of your shell,” he said, a tear slipping from his eye. Feng Xin wiped it with a cloth.

Mu Qing froze awkwardly. He wasn’t sure what Feng Xin or Xie Lian thought happened, but they were probably wrong if their reactions were like that. All he did was hang out with a stranger and talk with him for the night. While the stranger was intriguing, fun, kind, handsome, and all the likes, there was nothing to fuss over—nothing out of the ordinary happened. Yet Xie Lian was over here smiling at Mu Qing like he’d won some sort of contest.

And Feng Xin—Mu Qing didn’t want to look at Feng Xin’s face.

“Mhm…” Mu Qing sounded, slowly getting up and releasing his hands from Xie Lian’s grasp. “I have work… you know how it is,” he said, using his usual excuse to end the conversation as quickly as possible. He headed for the door.

“If you want to stop by and talk to me about it, I’m free!” Xie Lian shouted from behind him.

Mu Qing walked out faster as Xie Lian giggled at his change of pace.

Idiots, Mu Qing thought, with no affection, opening the door and exiting the room.

----------

Next year came faster than Mu Qing expected. It felt like yesterday was the masquerade, yet it had been almost a full year since that night. One more week until its anniversary.

With the masquerade coming up again, Mu Qing’s thoughts naturally drifted to his memories of the last masquerade—specifically, thoughts of Nan Feng.

It wasn’t like Mu Qing forgot Nan Feng throughout the rest of the year though. During the first month after the masquerade, Mu Qing went to nearby towns numerous times to see if Nan Feng lived in one of them. He always made some plausible excuse, like he needed new fabric to sew Xie Lian’s robes or he was taking a survey of the townspeople’s satisfaction with the new policies in place. 

Although Mu Qing came up with many believable and creative lies, he knew Xie Lian suspected something was up. It was something about that knowing smile he gave him every time he went into town. Of course, Mu Qing’s town visits proved fruitless as he didn’t recognize Nan Feng in any of them. Either Mu Qing was incredibly unobservant or Nan Feng lived in a faraway village.

Knowing his luck, it was probably both.

Mu Qing stopped visiting villages after a month had passed. It seemed that fate was not on his side, and he wasn’t going to participate in more pointless journeys. He pushed Nan Feng out of his mind for the sake of his work. He thought of him from time to time, but wouldn’t let his memory consume his mind.

Now that the annual masquerade was approaching again, the thought of Nan Feng became more restless, reaching for space in Mu Qing’s conscious mind. Unfortunately for Mu Qing’s work ethic, the thoughts broke free from his subconscious, invading his consciousness.

Images of Nan Feng’s smile would flash through Mu Qing’s head throughout the day, while recordings of Nan Feng’s laugh would repeat in his ears at random intervals. Mu Qing found himself reminiscing the small collection of memories with him while absentmindedly working. He had a feeling this would become a problem if the number of times Mu Qing had run into a wall while thinking of him was anything to go by.

While walking into walls was a pain, yes, it wasn’t the biggest problem. No, the biggest problem was the uncertainty of ever meeting Nan Feng again.

Truth is, Mu Qing didn’t know if Nan Feng would show up at the upcoming masquerade. After all, he’d also been convinced by a friend to come last time. At least that’s what he told Mu Qing.

Which led to Mu Qing’s current predicament: to go or to not go. If Mu Qing didn’t go, he might miss out on seeing Nan Feng again. Yet, if he did go, he might be crushed under the weight of disappointment when Nan Feng doesn’t show up. He didn’t want to wait on someone who would never show up. It’d be utterly pathetic and humiliating.

So, as one does, he made a pros and cons list.

So far the list looked a little something like this:

Going to masquerade

Pros: 

• possibly see Nan Feng again

• feel that feeling again

Cons:

• he doesn’t show and I’ll be alone

• humiliation from standing in the corner alone

• disappointment

Not going to masquerade

Pros:

• no disappointment/humiliation if he doesn’t show

Cons:

• regret if he does show

Really, it was a gamble. The cards were placed perfectly in Nan Feng’s hand, yet Mu Qing didn’t know which one he would place down.

From a mathematical standpoint, not going to the masquerade seemed like the better pick. Since going to the masquerade had a pros-cons ratio of 2:3, and not going had a ratio of 1:1, not going was the better pick.

But that was assuming each pro and con had the same amount of value assigned to them. Which they did not.

Mu Qing looked at the pros list of going to the masquerade and felt strongly about the reasons he wrote. He wanted to feel that feeling he felt when he was around Nan Feng that night. Though he didn’t know what that feeling was at the time, he thought he did now.

Mu Qing had a lot of time to ponder over the why’s of wanting to see Nan Feng again. And although Mu Qing was dense, he would have to be incredibly naive to ignore where the signs all pointed to. He was attracted to Nan Feng. He was interested in pursuing him romantically. And, boy, was that a shocker when he came to that conclusion multiple months ago.

From his discovery up until the present, Mu Qing had time to process and accept his feelings for him. He was shocked that he could be so drawn to someone he met once, but he supposed feelings had a way of defying logic.

Back to the conflict at hand, Mu Qing remained unsure about making a decision. What if he went to the masquerade but Nan Feng didn’t show? Or what if he didn’t go and Nan Feng did?

Mu Qing reasoned that good decisions aren’t made under stress, so he cleared his mind of the issue. He’d solve it sooner or later.

And to Mu Qing’s dismay, that time came much sooner than expected.

Mu Qing had just woken up when Xie Lian invited both Feng Xin and him over for a “request”.

That “request” so happened to be begging for them to attend the masquerade again. Go figures.

“Please?” Xie Lian said, using the same puppy-eyed strategy as last year to convince them to come.

Mu Qing was pointedly looking away from Xie Lian to avoid external influence on his decision.

Mu Qing’s eyes landed on the only other person in the room: Feng Xin. He seemed to be in a similar dilemma as him. His face exhibited apprehension and uncertainty, akin to Mu Qing’s feelings. Despite his and Feng Xin’s complicated relationship, he felt comfortable knowing he wasn’t the only one with doubts.

Answering Xie Lian’s plea, Feng Xin replied, “I don’t know.” 

Mu Qing’s instincts to make a snarky retort to him piped up, but he suppressed them. After all, he was in the same boat. By insulting Feng Xin, he was essentially insulting himself, which he would never do.

“Please consider going,” Xie Lian said to Feng Xin before turning to Mu Qing. “And you?”

And Mu Qing was finally asked the dreaded question he’d been avoiding thinking about for the past few minutes. 

Instead of considering his options, Mu Qing asked Xie Lian a question back. “Why do you want us to go? It’s not like we’ll ever see you during the event,” he pointed out.

“It’s for the experience,” Xie Lian argued. “There will only be so many masquerades until I eventually get married. Plus, I’d feel more comfortable knowing that you two are nearby.”

Mu Qing hummed in consideration, but he barely paid attention to Xie Lian’s reasons. Instead, he used that time to think about the real reason for his apprehension. Though he went back and forth between going and not going a lot, he had made a decision. He just hoped he wouldn’t regret it.

“I suppose I’ll go,” Mu Qing answered. While Mu Qing was afraid of the disappointment that might come with going to the event, he was more afraid of missing out on something that could’ve been.

“You agreed that easily?” Xie Lian asked in disbelief. Feng Xin also seemed surprised at Mu Qing’s easy cooperation.

“Sure,” Mu Qing said, hoping they wouldn’t ask for reasons.

“Bullshit,” Feng Xin called. “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”

Yes, there is, Feng Xin, Mu Qing thought. But fuck you for asking it.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mu Qing said, feigning oblivion.

“Cut the crap and just get out with it.”

“You can tell us anything,” Xie Lian added.

“Nothing’s going on,” Mu Qing protested.

And then, Xie Lian gave that look. Not the puppy eyes look, but the I-know-you’re-lying-and-I’m disappointed look. It made Mu Qing feel slightly guilty for not being open with them.

“Fine,” Mu Qing sighed, giving up. “I may or may not have met someone last masquerade.”

While Xie Lian did not appear surprised, he did perk up at that. “Oh? And you’re going for them?” he asked innocently.

Mu Qing sputtered, cheeks pinking. “Don’t-don’t make it sound like that! I’m going through my own will… and they just happen to be one of the reasons,” he insisted.

“Either way, I hope everything goes well for you and your someone. Update us, yeah?” Xie Lian said. He turned to Feng Xin, expecting him to do the same.

But when Mu Qing turned to Feng Xin, he saw a far different expression than the one Xie Lian wore. While Xie Lian smiled with bright eyes while wishing him the best, Feng Xin’s eyes darkened, lips pressed into a thin line. Did Feng Xin hate him so much that he couldn’t be happy for him? Mu Qing shot him a look, translating to what the fuck is your problem?

Subsequently, Feng Xin snapped out of his daze and hummed noncommittally at Xie Lian’s prodding. His face remained neutral, obscuring his prior expression.

Feng Xin and Xie Lian seemed to have a silent conversation of some sort, with very minuscule changes in their facial expressions and body language. Mu Qing was only able to recognize the changes due to his experience in reading people.

Strange, Mu Qing thought but didn’t dwell too much on it. He had come to accept that he would never understand Feng Xin long ago, after all.

And because Feng Xin decided he was going to be more unpredictable, he decided to say, “I’ll go to the masquerade, too.”

Mu Qing looked at him in confusion once again. Maybe it was only in his head, but… it sounded like Feng Xin agreed to go to the masquerade because Mu Qing was going.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he shut it down. That was a ridiculous theory. Mu Qing was overthinking it. Feng Xin had probably thought about his decision while he was filling Xie Lian in on the events last year. Yep, that makes sense, Mu Qing thought, reinforcing the more plausible speculation.

“Oh! How lovely,” Xie Lian said. “Now that you’re both coming, you can give me some advice.” Xie Lian got up and walked into his walk-in closet with his two friends trailing close behind. “So which mask should I wear? This one symbolizes new beginnings, and this one…”

Mu Qing tuned out Xie Lian’s voice, thinking about the past masquerade and the future one. There was a lot to be thought about and a lot to be planned, but Mu Qing felt ready.

Ready to see him again.

----------

The night of the masquerade came sooner than expected. In the mere blink of an eye, Mu Qing found himself at the event, just like the last time.

For the most part, things were the same. Same decorations, same grand hall, same time… it was all the same. Even the clothes Mu Qing wore were the same. Everything was the same, and yet…

It was so different. And the only difference was the absence of Nan Feng.

Mu Qing had been at the masquerade ball for multiple hours and had seen no sight of Nan Feng. He checked all the public spaces—the grand hall, the courtyard, the gardens… but he wasn’t there. There was always the off chance that he snuck into a private quarter, but Mu Qing figured he didn’t want to know what he would be doing in there if he was.

Wallowing in his disappointment and loneliness, Mu Qing sat by the fountain where he and Nan Feng talked at the last masquerade. It brought good feelings, though they crashed down when he realized he would likely never see him again.

He sat there for an undefined amount of time, staring at the water in the fountain. Regret sank into his heart with every moment he stayed unmoving. The trickling water played like ambient music, with each plop! reminding Mu Qing of how much time had passed.

Why did I come here? Mu Qing thought. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up. I should’ve stayed in my room and gotten a good night’s sleep instead of getting my expectations crushed. I should’ve forgotten about him. I should’ve never come to that masquerade in the first place! I wouldn’t be in this situation then. I should’ve never met him because now he’s occupying my mind, and I won’t even be able to see him again. I’m so stupid. I’m…

Mu Qing’s thoughts kept coming, drowning out his surroundings. He was frozen, sitting on the edge of the fountain, a blank stare donning his face while gazing at the fountain water. However, in his spaced-out state, he failed to hear the footsteps approaching from behind him.

Mu Qing snapped out of it when he saw something in the water. Peering in the water, Mu Qing realized the water didn’t have something in it, it was reflecting something. And that something was a face.

Not just any face. Nan Feng’s face.

Mu Qing whipped around. And lo and behold, Nan Feng stood in front of him, almost like he never left. He wore the same outfit and mask as last year, as well, and his smile hadn’t changed in the slightest. Well, Mu Qing supposed that might be a lie. His smile looked brighter than ever before, illuminating the murky thoughts in Mu Qing’s mind.

Before Mu Qing could force a word out, Nan Feng spoke up. “Were you waiting for me? Hm, Fu Yao?” he said, a teasing note in his voice.

Mu Qing huffed, body heating up in embarrassment of being called out. “No, of course not,” he denied. It was an obvious lie, but Mu Qing was physically repulsed at admitting the truth.

“Well, you recognized me-”

“Who said I recognized you.”

“-and you’re sitting at the fountain we sat at last year-”

“This isn’t your fountain.”

“-so you were obviously waiting for me,” Nan Feng finished.

“Your ego is too big for your own good,” Mu Qing muttered.

“I would say it’s the perfect size since I accurately guessed what you were doing,” Nan Feng said cheekily.

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“Enlighten me then. What were you doing?”

“I was just thinking.”

“About me?”

“No!” Mu Qing said, though the answer was most certainly yes. “It’s not like I was doing anything different the last time we met anyway.”

“Wow. You are one lonely person,” Nan Feng stated.

Thinking back to what he just said, Mu Qing realized how utterly friendless he sounded. And since he had no comeback to his statement, Mu Qing simply glared at him.

“Anyway,” Nan Feng said, “Let’s go inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.”

Nan Feng held his hand out for him to grasp. Mu Qing took his hand tentatively, despite the eager adrenaline coursing through his veins. Once their hands met, Nan Feng pulled Mu Qing inside the palace. To do what? Mu Qing didn’t know. But he was excited, for the first time that night, to find out.

----------

As it turned out, Nan Feng wanted a rematch… in dancing. Apparently, he’d been practicing and was confident that he’d outdo him. The mere prospect of Nan Feng putting effort into beating him did something to Mu Qing’s heart. And since Mu Qing was not one to back away from a challenge, he accepted.

Mu Qing had very quickly realized Nan Feng was not joking about practicing dancing. Nan Feng swept him away with one hand on Mu Qing’s waist and the other clasping Mu Qing’s hand. Nan Feng’s steps and movements were precise—trained, but not planned. His motions were effortless, a feature Mu Qing envied yet admired. 

Due to Nan Feng’s newfound skills, Mu Qing had trouble keeping up. Despite his efforts, Nan Feng was an entire step ahead of him, both literally and figuratively. Usually, Mu Qing would’ve minded. However, the way Nan Feng danced entranced Mu Qing to the point where his doubts left his mind, and the only thing occupying it was the feeling of Nan Feng’s hands on his body.

And when Nan Feng twirled him… Oh, how Mu Qing’s heart went into overdrive. If that wasn’t enough, after the twirl, he pulled Mu Qing closer than before. Now that their bodies were flush, he unclasped his hand from Mu Qing’s and placed both of them on his waist. 

Adapting to Nan Feng’s adjustment, Mu Qing moved both his hands to Nan Feng’s chest. Mu Qing wasn’t sure if this was a competition anymore. With their faces mere inches apart, he could’ve easily kissed him.

…not that Mu Qing would’ve ever done that, of course.

Luckily for Mu Qing’s heart, exhaustion set in soon after, and they parted to lean against the nearest wall together.

They sank to the ground, curled up on the border of the grand hall, feet throbbing from dancing. Since their bodies ached with movement, there was only one thing left to do: talk.

And talk, they did. Topics of family and daily life devolved into kingdom gossip and shit-talking masquerade goers’ tacky outfit choices. Mu Qing found himself smiling and laughing, actions he would typically suppress under usual circumstances. Nan Feng had a way of bringing out the best in him, even when he didn’t know he had a best of himself.

After their limbs had rested, they went outside to get some fresh air. They sat at the fountain like before, away from the voices of those inside. 

Mu Qing and Nan Feng sat close to one another, hands on the marble rim of the fountain brushing up against one another. The wind blew their hair in their faces, but neither of them minded. It was just them, their words, and their lingering touches—no outside factors or people to intrude on their moment.

And Mu Qing didn’t want this moment to end.

However, as all good things do, it came to an end. With a familiar ring of a bell, the masquerade had ended. Mu Qing and Nan Feng walked to the gate, wished their goodbyes, and parted. It was practically the same as last time.

Yet there was one fundamental difference: how Mu Qing left the masquerade. Last year, he left the masquerade longing, unsure of seeing Nan Feng again. This time, he left in bliss, knowing this wasn’t the last time of seeing him.

Mu Qing cherished this newfound feeling, all the way from leaving the masquerade to falling asleep.

----------

A couple of masquerades came and went, and Mu Qing and Nan Feng were there to experience them together. Mu Qing couldn’t have asked or expected more.

The third masquerade they experienced together was just as good as the first two. Nan Feng, once again, showed up late. Mu Qing had been on the balcony leaning against the railing when he had felt a pair of strong arms circle his waist. He had jolted out of his thoughts and had spun around to be greeted with the sight of Nan Feng’s cheeky grin.

The rest of that day was a blur. They resumed their dancing competition tradition as usual, which Mu Qing lost miserably at, and went to the fountain to rest afterward. While Mu Qing’s memories of that night were fuzzy, he remembered the complete happiness he felt. It was wonderful.

The fourth masquerade approached rapidly after the third. In the meantime, Mu Qing set his sights on learning how to dance. If Nan Feng showed him up one more time, his pride would simply not recover.

Lucky for him, Mu Qing was a quick learner.

And when the masquerade came, Mu Qing relished in Nan Feng’s surprise when he matched his speed and skill in dancing. Mu Qing’s triumph prevailed when he managed to dip him, while a flush spread down Nan Feng’s neck. It was glorious.

Now with the fifth masquerade coming up, Mu Qing was excited. Recently, thoughts of Nan Feng became more frequent. While Mu Qing wasn’t all that passionate about crushes, he figured he could make an exception. He often found himself daydreaming about what could’ve happened and what could happen.

Daydreaming about Nan Feng had its bonuses and minuses. It was thrilling to imagine what could happen with their budding acquaintanceship, but reality was an upsetting reminder. In addition, daydreaming caused Mu Qing to lose touch with his surroundings. This especially happened when he would be trying to work.

Like now.

Mu Qing was absentmindedly sweeping the grand hall for the upcoming event. He hummed a soft tune while dreaming about the nearing masquerade and, by default, Nan Feng. He smiled to himself, lost in his head. He’d been sweeping in the same spot for ten minutes, but due to his decreased sense of spatial awareness, he didn’t notice.

However, a certain bodyguard noticed.

“...Qing? Mu Qing? Hello?”

And like the snap of a finger, Mu Qing was back in reality.

“Hm?” Mu Qing said drowsily, recovering from the whiplash of the real world. His hazy eyes settled on Feng Xin’s face.

Realizing where he was, Mu Qing jerked. He looked down at the pile of dust he’d been spreading around, and back up to Feng Xin’s eyes. Embarrassment was a mild word to describe how Mu Qing felt at that moment.

“What do you want?” Mu Qing said, forcing words out of his mouth.

“Nothing. I just noticed you’ve been sweeping here for some time and hadn’t moved.” Feng Xin’s eyes trailed down to the pile of dust and back to Mu Qing’s eyes as well. The action only made Mu Qing more embarrassed.

“Whatever. I’ll clean it up,” Mu Qing said, beginning to sweep properly to avoid further humiliation.

Mu Qing sneaked a glance at where Feng Xin was standing, and found him still there, unmoving. He continued to sweep, expecting him to walk away any second.

Yet Feng Xin made no attempt to move.

“What’s going on with you and that masquerade person?” Feng Xin asked abruptly.

Mu Qing’s eyebrows darted upwards at his unexpected question. Of all the questions, he silently groaned. Of all of them. Why did he remember the one tidbit I shared years ago?

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Mu Qing huffed.

He took another glance at Feng Xin to see his reaction, and found it… confusing. His expression looked cast over, a mix of frustration and defeat. Mu Qing knew Feng Xin was always hard to understand, but this took it to a new level.

“Right,” Feng Xin responded, arms stiffening by his sides.

Mu Qing was surprised by the lack of prying, but he wasn’t going to prompt it. But with Feng Xin’s strange behavior, he didn’t know what to do. Stand there silently? Walk away? Sweep more? He didn’t want to make the situation more awkward than it was.

And then the spare broom leaning on the pillar behind him caught his eye, giving him an idea.

“If you’re going to stare at me, you might as well make yourself useful,” Mu Qing said, handing him the spare broom.

“What? I can’t sweep,” Feng Xin exclaimed, expression reverting to usual. Thank goodness.

“Hm. I suppose I’ll have to add that to the list of things you can’t do.”

“Of course you have a list,” Feng Xin muttered. “And- hey!” he blurted, when Mu Qing started to take the broom out of his hand.

“I’ll give this to someone who can clean properly.”

Feng Xin only gripped the handle of the broom tighter. “I can do it,” he insisted, completely contradicting his statement moments before.

“Go on then,” Mu Qing said, crossing his arms, looking at him smugly.

Feng Xin gulped. Mu Qing watched as he attempted to move the dust in one direction.

Unfortunately, the dust particles had different ideas and scattered everywhere.

Mu Qing held in a laugh as Feng Xin tried to salvage his attempt, only spreading the dust further.

“Need help?” Mu Qing said when Feng Xin struggled some more.

“Fuck off,” Feng Xin said, lacking any real bite to his voice. “Like you were doing better before, anyway.”

“It was better than whatever you’re doing right now,” Mu Qing said, brushing the reminder of his earlier embarrassment off.

Feng Xin’s attempts at sweeping continued to fail horribly, as Mu Qing did his job with ease. He knew he would likely have to clean after Feng Xin’s mess later, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care when Feng Xin was showing a rare moment of incompetence. He was certainly enjoying himself.

And for some reason, a feeling of deja vu washed over Mu Qing. He felt like he had encountered something like it before, but he didn’t know where from. He had little contests with Feng Xin often, yet he didn’t think his feelings came from that. The emotions stemmed from some sort of nostalgia Mu Qing didn’t know how to unpack.

Either way, whether his emotions were new or recurring, it didn’t matter. They were positive emotions, so who cared?

Plus, Mu Qing had other things to deal with. Such as laughing at Feng Xin’s inability to sweep, cleaning the remaining dust in the grand hall, and most importantly, preparing for the masquerade.

----------

The week flew by, and the night of the masquerade arrived. Mu Qing wound up leaning on the wall of the grand hall, similar to his stance in the first ball before he met Nan Feng. However, unlike the first masquerade, his eyes were closed rather than open and observant. There was no need to stay attentive when he knew who was coming. Plus, he would have rather spared his eyesight from the ever-present social leeches in the room.

He tilted his head upward to face the ceiling. He knew Nan Feng would come, but he also knew he would be late. The only uncertainty was how late he would be. He could be waiting for five minutes to two hours. It all depended on Nan Feng, and how much he wanted to make Mu Qing wait in boredom.

Mu Qing blinked his eyes open to stare at the ceiling above. In doing so, he saw a brown blur in the corner of his vision. He snapped his head to the side, and familiar brown hair and eyes entered his vision.

“Miss me?” Nan Feng said, smirking while cocking an eyebrow.

“You wish,” Mu Qing replied, turning his head away from him.

“I do,” Nan Feng said smoothly, wrapping his arms around Mu Qing’s waist comfortably.

Mu Qing didn’t know when they got to the stage of casual physical touch, but he wasn’t opposed. In fact, he quite enjoyed it, if the sudden flush creeping up his neck was anything to go by.

“Hmph. Why are you so early anyway?” Mu Qing said.

“Is it criminal to be on time?”

“When it’s you, yes.”

Nan Feng sighed dramatically. “If you must know, I came because I miss you.”

Mu Qing turned his head to face Nan Feng once again, searching for sarcasm or insincerity in his expression but found nothing. Nothing besides complete honesty and something akin to affection.

And with a spontaneous burst of courage, Mu Qing said, “...I may have missed you too.”

Nan Feng only laughed good-naturedly. “You didn’t have to say it, I already knew.”

Mu Qing flushed further. Was he that obvious? He thought he was subtle, but apparently not.

“You’re so…” Cocky? Smart? Aggravating, but in the best way possible?

Mu Qing didn’t know which one to pick.

“Attractive?” Nan Feng supplied.

Yes, that too, Mu Qing thought, eyes involuntarily doing the up-down look of Nan Feng’s body.

Mu Qing did not voice those thoughts aloud. Instead, he went with his first choice: “Cocky.”

“I’m not cocky if I can back it up,” Nan Feng said, smugness radiating off him.

He definitely saw Mu Qing checking him out. Fuck.

Mu Qing rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“That attitude is the reason why you always lose at dancing.”

“I never lose. You must be imagining things.”

“Prove it then,” Nan Feng said, giving him a challenging smirk.

“Gladly.”

And the two took to the floor in the blink of an eye, their hands and feet placed accordingly.

They stepped, twirled, dipped, spun, and did what they usually did. However, it quickly became apparent that they both were evenly matched.

“Have you been practicing? You sucked a lot more before,” Nan Feng said.

“Of course. I can’t just let you win,” Mu Qing responded.

“Aw… You did that all for me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

They stepped and twirled and dipped and spun together. They were totally in sync, lost in their own world. The longer they danced, the closer the proximity between their bodies became. The room felt hot, though Mu Qing wasn’t sure if it was due to exhaustion, or their shared body heat.

Nan Feng seemed to be in the same boat, as his cheeks were flushed, red and rosy. Mu Qing watched as a singular droplet of sweat traveled from his face to his neck to below his collar.

And, as always, Mu Qing took that opportunity to tease. “Sweating already? You can’t hold out for very long, can you?”

“Fuck you. I’m not sweating because of that.”

“Oh? Are you sweating because my presence is making you nervous then?” Mu Qing asked sarcastically, fully expecting Nan Feng to flat out deny or defend against his statement.

But the word that came out of Nan Feng’s mouth was not an anticipated one.

“Maybe,” Nan Feng replied, sincerity present in his voice.

Mu Qing was caught off guard by Nan Feng’s response. So caught off guard that he missed a step and fell directly into his dancing partner’s arms. Embarrassment flooded his veins. Nan Feng was obviously joking, how could he fall for that so easily? Especially in the literal sense.

“Maybe my presence is making you nervous if you’re falling for me that easily.”

Mu Qing looked up from his position and saw Nan Feng’s cheeky but earnest smile. Mu Qing cursed him in his mind for being this attractive. Maybe the cockiness was justified after all.

“I think it’s safe to say I’ve won this one,” Nan Feng carried on, helping Mu Qing stand steady on his own two feet.

Mu Qing batted his hands away after steadying himself. “Rematch.”

“Desperate to lose again? By all means, go ahead,” Nan Feng said, putting him and Mu Qing back into position.

And if Nan Feng tripped during their rematch through unknown means, Mu Qing knew nothing about that.

After they had their numerous amounts of rematches, they were drained. They walked outside, leaning on each other for support to get to the fountain.

Once they sat down, Nan Feng spoke up. “That was 13 me, 12 you.”

“No, it was 13 me, 12 you,” Mu Qing countered.

“No, you tripped me on that one, which means the point automatically goes to me.”

“Me? Trip you? You must be mistaken. I would never do such a thing.”

“You liar,” Nan Feng said. Mu Qing could hear the smile in his voice, despite the fact he wasn’t paying attention to his expression.

“Mhm. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mu Qing said, smiling into his words as well.

A comfortable silence fell between the two as they caught their breaths. Mu Qing stared up into the star-filled sky. It was nice to look up and not have his vision confined by the ceiling walls. To pass time while he regained his respiration, he counted the stars.

He was on number 108 when Nan Feng broke the silence.

“I hope you know I really do enjoy your company,” he said.

Mu Qing turned his head to look at him, only to find him staring into the sky like he was doing moments before.

Nan Feng’s face slowly turned to face him too.

Mu Qing’s throat felt dry from the way Nan Feng’s eyes looked at him beneath the mask.

Mu Qing swallowed. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Nan Feng shrugged. “Just thought you should know.”

Mu Qing blushed an embarrassing shade of pink. Nobody had ever said such things to him, especially in a nonchalant manner. It threw off his emotional balance.

Nan Feng didn’t seem content to stop there. “And I like it when you challenge me,” he continued. “Most people in my life don’t do that. And I like talking with you, and laughing with you, and just being around you. Oh! And teasing you is also fun.”

If Mu Qing’s face was tinted pink before, his face was stained red now.

“What I’m trying to say… is that I like you. A lot,” Nan Feng concluded.

Mu Qing felt time slow around him. His focus was on Nan Feng, and Nan Feng only. He tried to process Nan Feng’s words, but his mind was coming up with errors.

“You… like me?” Mu Qing said, voice cracking with emotion.

“More than that,” Nan Feng whispered. “I think I love you…”

It was at this moment Mu Qing realized how close Nan Feng and he had gotten. Their thighs touched and their arms brushed against each other. Every instance of body contact caused butterflies in his stomach. Mu Qing felt utterly euphoric, lost in Nan Feng’s presence.

Nan Feng brought a gentle hand up to Mu Qing’s jaw. He caressed it lightly before moving to hold his chin tenderly.

His eyes were filled with such love that Mu Qing believed him. Mu Qing let his eyes flutter shut as Nan Feng’s lips approached his.

“...Mu Qing,” Nan Feng finished.

And then Mu Qing’s entire world came to a halt.

It took him a second to process the words. Before Nan Feng’s lips could make contact with his own, he jolted back, standing up and away from him. He touched his fingertips to his lips, eyes wide in disbelief from what Nan Feng said. His mind swam in thoughts, feelings, and assumptions, unsure what to believe and who to trust.

“What did you call me?” Mu Qing asked, horrified to know the answer.

Nan Feng’s eyes widened, realizing his mistake. He stood up and started to explain, mouth opening and closing rapidly from speaking too quickly.

However, Mu Qing wasn’t listening. Blood rushed to his ears as the intensity of his heartbeat silenced the world around him. He couldn’t make sense of anything. How did Nan Feng know his name? How? He needed to know but dreaded knowing all the same.

“...shouldn’t have called you by someone else’s name. I’m so sorry, that was wrong of me, I apologize-”

“How did you know my name?” Mu Qing interrupted, head dizzy from thought overload.

“Again, I’m sor- Wait, what?”

“How. Did. You. Know. My. Name,” Mu Qing reiterated.

“You’re Mu Qing?” Nan Feng asked, shock evident on his face.

“Yes? You just called me that!” Mu Qing said in exasperation.

“That was a mistake!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter since you’re right.”

Mu Qing gently lifted his mask, revealing his face underneath.

Nan Feng’s eyes went imperceptibly wide and his jaw went slack. His expression froze in that position.

“Well?” Mu Qing pushed. “Who are you?”

Mu Qing stared at him until he slowly took off his mask. A very, very familiar face stared back at him.

“Feng Xin?” Mu Qing whispered, more to himself than anyone.

And then the cloud Mu Qing had been sitting upon for the past five years disintegrated, causing him to fall to the jagged edges of the ground below.

Nan Feng was Feng Xin.

Feng Xin was Nan Feng.

They were one and the same.

All those times Nan Feng danced with him, held him, teased him, made his heart accelerate… It was all Feng Xin.

Feng Xin, who Mu Qing fought with. Who he hated. Who hated him. Who would gloat at Mu Qing’s failures and inconveniences. Who would probably take pleasure in breaking his heart.

But also Feng Xin, who he’d known since childhood. Who wiped his tears when his mother fell sick. Who he never seemed to understand.

It was all too much.

“How… could you?” Mu Qing said, barely registering the words past his lips. His head was spinning. He needed to sit down, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He stared at Feng Xin’s feet, unable to meet his eyes.

“Mu Qing-” Feng Xin started.

“How could you?” Mu Qing repeated.

“I don’t underst-”

“I let you in. You made me believe someone actually liked me.” Tears spilled onto Mu Qing’s cheeks, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care or stop them. “And you made me like you too. Was this all for a laugh? A sick prank? Why, Feng Xin? Why?”

“No! Of course not,” Feng Xin sputtered. “I didn’t kn-”

“Save it,” Mu Qing interrupted. “I’m… so done.”

Mu Qing turned around and fled. The masquerade wasn’t due to end for another hour or so, but he couldn’t bear being there any longer. He didn’t want to see Feng Xin’s face for another second.

Which was a shame, because if he stayed, he would’ve seen that Feng Xin was as heartbroken as him.

---------

Multiple days had passed since the fifth masquerade, and Mu Qing was still reeling from what transpired. To keep his scattered thoughts at bay, he threw himself into his work.

It was those moments in between working, moments while bathing, and moments before bed when the thoughts slipped through his defenses and into his conscious mind.

Why?

Why didn’t I see it coming?

How could I let my guard down like that?

How could I be so stupid?

Looking back at his times with Nan Feng, it was obvious he had been Feng Xin. They had the same hair color, same eye color, same mannerisms, and same everything. It all made perfect sense since they were the same person. In hindsight, everything was clearer.

Yet Mu Qing knew he would’ve never put the pieces together. It was in the difference in the way each treated him—one with courtesy, and the other with antagonism. The discrepancy between their attitudes towards him threw him off.

His memory of Nan Feng was so different from his memory of Feng Xin. When he thought of Nan Feng, he thought of stolen glances, competitive dances, and a brightness that overrode the dullness of his life. When he thought of Feng Xin, he thought of petty arguments, inconsistent emotions, and a lifelong rivalry that challenged him to the fullest degree. Now that he knew they were the same, he didn’t know what to think.

He wasn’t quite sure if his perception of Nan Feng was ruined or if his perception of Feng Xin was. Perhaps it was both.

His thoughts were at crossroads—that much was not up for debate. However, his emotions kept moving on a straight path despite the circumstances.

No matter his thoughts about either version of him, his heart beat to the same rhythm. He still felt heart racing emotions for him, though Mu Qing didn’t know if it was hatred or affection or both. Either way, this emotion made him feel alive. And it was a damn good feeling if he said so himself.

Due to these revelations—if you could call it that, since Mu Qing didn’t truly realize anything—he had been avoiding Feng Xin. Since he knew his working schedule, Mu Qing had to switch it up to make sure he couldn’t find him. Mu Qing had to throw his dignity away and bribe the other servants to not share his location away. Even so, Feng Xin managed to find him again and again.

And every time he saw Feng Xin approaching, he’d run away. He was not ready to confront him despite the other’s obvious persistence. Thankfully, he knew every nook and cranny of the palace, which gave Mu Qing great knowledge of where the best hiding spots were. When Feng Xin would spot him, he would bolt, and head towards the nearest hidey-hole to conceal himself.

Mu Qing knew he couldn’t avoid Feng Xin forever, especially with Xie Lian as their mutual friend.

Which is exactly why four days into evading Feng Xin, he gave up.

Or, in other words, he faced the situation head-on. He supposed that if he was going to do this eventually, he may as well do them on his own terms.

So when Feng Xin cornered him in one of the many palace guest rooms, Mu Qing didn’t flee. Nor did he hide. He was going to confront the situation, even if it shattered his heart in the process. The dynamic he built with Feng Xin, as himself and as Nan Feng, would likely break as well, but Mu Qing was ready. As ready as anyone could be for something like that, at least.

Mu Qing sighed as Feng Xin stood in front of him with an unreadable expression on his face. Deciding to take the initiative in the conversation, he said, “What do you want?”

“Are you going to run away?” Feng Xin pressed. The unspoken “again” hung in the air.

“No.”

Feng Xin took a step closer. He wasn’t absurdly close to Mu Qing, he was probably around two feet away, but it made Mu Qing’s heartbeat quicken anyway.

Mu Qing expected Feng Xin to speak, but he didn’t. He stared at Mu Qing’s face, analyzing him or trying to detect something. Mu Qing made sure his expression didn’t betray any emotion or anything that Feng Xin could use against him.

A mere few seconds passed before Feng Xin broke the short-lived silence.

“Please react. Say something. Don’t pretend like I’m nothing to you,” he pleaded.

While Mu Qing was intent on not showing emotion, Feng Xin was the opposite. Emotions seemed to spill out of his every word and action. He seemed desperate, like one touch and he’d break down.

“What am I supposed to say, Feng Xin? What do you want me to say after that?” Mu Qing bit back, using anger as a defense.

Feng Xin threw his hands up in exasperation. “After that? What do you mean by that?”

“You know what!”

“What do I know?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“I’m not playing dumb!” Feng Xin protested.

Mu Qing pinched his nose bridge in frustration. “You played with my feelings by pretending you liked me! All this time and you were stringing me along for some sick joke. I was about to kiss you, only for you to slip up and call me by my real name. Was it fun for you? I trusted you—both versions—and you managed to fuck that up. You’re an asshole,” Mu Qing said, laying himself out in the open.

“But I didn’t know “Fu Yao” was you at that time!” Feng Xin argued.

“Oh yeah? Then why did you call me Mu Qing?” Mu Qing countered.

“Because I love you, you fucking idiot!” Feng Xin yelled back.

Mu Qing reeled back, shocked by the words that left Feng Xin’s mouth. Feng Xin snapped his mouth shut, mutually shocked by his words. Mu Qing’s blood rushed to his ears for the second time that month. The only thing Mu Qing could hear was his heartbeat, which was beating at a rapid-fire pace.

“What?” Mu Qing said over the resounding beat of his heart. After gaining some more auditory clarity, Mu Qing demanded, “Is this another joke? I won’t fall for this shit again!”

“Fuck, Mu Qing! I’m not fucking lying! I said your name because I was thinking of you before I was going to kiss you as “Fu Yao”!” Feng Xin shouted.

Feng Xin took a deep breath before continuing. “I was thinking of you because I wanted to be kissing you instead. Don’t get me wrong, I like Fu Yao—err… you as Fu Yao—but I… love you. I fell in love with your idiotic self, and now I’ve got to deal with you not believing me when I’m telling you this. Is it so hard to believe?”

“Yes! Yes, it is. Why would you like me? You hate me!” Mu Qing said.

…Right?

“I don’t hate you, Mu Qing.”

Feng Xin said that as if it didn’t shatter Mu Qing’s whole world.

“You’re a hotheaded, irrational, smartass, stupidly pretty jerk, but I don’t hate you. You get on my fucking nerves, but you also challenge me and help me when I need it. Like when you sew my torn robes, or when you make me morning tea, and you act like it wasn’t you.”

“It’s my job,” Mu Qing defended.

“It’s your job to take care of His Highness, not me,” Feng Xin pointed out. “Anyway, the point is I care for you, as more than a friend or enemy or whatever you think the fuck we are. You don’t have to feel the same way, but please don’t avoid me.”

Mu Qing was stunned to say the least.

Feng Xin loved him.

Feng Xin loved him.

Mu Qing could barely imagine it, much less picture it in reality.

It was surreal. The almost nonexistent possibility of Feng Xin returning Mu Qing’s complicated feelings came true.

Mu Qing didn’t know where to go from there. But he certainly wanted it to go somewhere.

“Mu Qing?” Feng Xin said, voice filling the silence. He stepped forward again, the proximity between him and Mu Qing shrinking.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Mu Qing blurted. He internally cursed himself for saying something so stupid. True, but stupid.

Feng Xin took Mu Qing’s statement the wrong way. His eyes were downcast and his posture drooped. He looked disappointed. Worst of all, he started to shift away.

Mu Qing could not let that happen. He couldn’t let this chance slip through his fingers. He couldn’t leave Feng Xin without telling him the truth.

So, with a burst of courage, Mu Qing put his hand on Feng Xin’s wrist, a plea to not leave. A single word fell out of Mu Qing’s mouth: “Wait.”

Feng Xin stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to go on.

Words continued to spill out of Mu Qing with no filter. “You’re an aggravating asshole who can’t put together context clues for the life of him, and you annoy me more than anyone else in the world. But… you can also be kind and sweet and make me smile. And I might l-l-love you back,” Mu Qing said, cheeks aflame.

At this, Feng Xin smiled. The wonderful, bright smile that felt like a summer breeze and a warm hug. Despite the insults in Mu Qing’s impromptu speech, Feng Xin was able to read past that and into what Mu Qing was truly trying to say.

Feng Xin moved closer again. “I’m kind and sweet and make you smile, huh?” he said teasingly.

“Only sometimes,” Mu Qing rebutted, trying to save what little face he had left.

“Then let’s make this one of the times, yeah?”

Feng Xin lifted his hand to Mu Qing’s face in the same way he had before. His hand cupped Mu Qing’s jaw before sliding to hold his chin. He inched closer to Mu Qing. And ever so lightly, he placed his lips on the other’s.

Mu Qing relished in the warm pressure on his lips, savoring the way Feng Xin tasted. Feng Xin took hold of his waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Mu Qing cupped Feng Xin’s jaw, kissing back with passion.

With Feng Xin’s soft lips caressing his own, Mu Qing felt like he was floating. Though Mu Qing denied it for the sake of his pride, he’d thought about Feng Xin’s lips on his far too often to be casual. Now that it was happening, Mu Qing was pleasantly surprised at how much better it felt in real life than in his mind.

The floating feeling Mu Qing felt in his head only continued when Feng Xin backed him into the nearby wall. A groan escaped his lips as his backside collided with the wall. In the slight second Mu Qing’s mouth parted, Feng Xin slipped his tongue in, earning a gasp in return.

Closer and closer, their bodies wanted. Their chests compressed together, giving each the ability to feel the other’s heartbeat. And each of their hearts raced, pulsing erratically and skipping beats.

When their current position wasn’t enough, Feng Xin slid his hands from Mu Qing’s waist to his thighs. Breaking their kiss for a split second, he lifted Mu Qing effortlessly, his legs encircling Feng Xin’s hips. Mu Qing immediately pulled Feng Xin back, lips crashing into each other’s, as Feng Xin pushed Mu Qing against the wall again.

Mu Qing responded by moving his hands from Feng Xin’s jaw to his hair. He tugged lightly on the string holding up his bun, letting his hair fall. Feng Xin answered by biting Mu Qing’s bottom lip, resulting in him releasing an embarrassing sound from his mouth. He felt Feng Xin smirk.

Asshole.

The thought had barely formed in Mu Qing’s mind before he decided to slide his tongue into Feng Xin’s mouth, transforming his smirk into a sharp intake of breath. In his arms, he felt Feng Xin shiver. The action only made Mu Qing press their bodies closer, once again trying to be as close as possible to Feng Xin.

When they finally had to part, both were panting, cheeks flushed and hair askew. Their breaths mingled between them, like warm wind on a summer day. It was a blissful feeling. His heart pounded in the musical rhythm of want and love.

Mu Qing felt Feng Xin’s thumb swipe his kiss-swollen bottom lip. He looked up and caught his gaze—a loving gaze that made Mu Qing feel flushed all over. When Mu Qing detangled his hand from Feng Xin’s hair, he pressed it over his heart, feeling his heartbeat. Just like before, it was pulsing in tandem with Mu Qing’s.

Making his decision, Mu Qing wet his lips before meeting Feng Xin in the middle for another round.

----------

“How’d it go with that masquerade person?” Xie Lian asked the morning after, having called Mu Qing to his room.

“Hm?” Mu Qing sounded in an automatic response, watering Xie Lian’s plant by the window sill.

“You know, the person you met at the masquerade years ago. How’d it go with them?” Xie Lian said, flopping on his bed.

Mu Qing set the watering can down and turned around to look at Xie Lian’s expectant face.

“It was good,” Mu Qing replied simply, turning back around to avoid elaborating.

He looked through the window, surveying the courtyard outside. His eyes caught onto a familiar fountain, water glistening in the broad daylight. He let himself smile, his mind flooded with the memories accumulated over the years.

It was really good.