Archive of Our Own

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There were many people here. 

Gathered around for the festival the chief of the city had announced. Crowded, hot, and inevitably chaotic.

The glare of the sun made it even more difficult to move without sweating. As those of the nobles and higher ranks, or those that has money had even hired people to constantly fan them. To reduce the incredible heat. To help in keeping them sane and alive at such day.

Those that were unable to were left burning under the sun.

The festival itself was for the son of the chief. Inviting people from all around the southwest, and even those coming from the west.

It was because it was rumoured his son had spoken to a heavenly official.

Be it a god or a middle court, all weren't sure. However, they were certain his son had conversed with an official from above. The conversation topic remains a mystery.

The concealed god could not help but scoff.

To have created such big event for something that wasn't even proven. Acting so boastful and irrational they forget to give evidence for something so holy and unbelievable.

However, he wasn't here to join in the nonsense. Wasn't here to linger longer than necessary.

A desperate boy had prayed to his name. And although he doesn't really heed those that prayed outside of his temple and usually pushes it off for further problems, he had realized it was a much more serious matter.

He's only an eleven years god, it was best to keep gaining more and more worshippers as early as he could get.

The chief of the city has two children. One, the boy that presumably conversed with a heavenly official and was seen to ascend as a middle court. And two, a much less seen son. An adopted son, not a child from the chief's blood.

And while adopting children wasn't uncommon, and seen even as a kind gesture - the chief had taken it differently. And seen the adoption as repulsive, and irresponsible for those that birthed it and did not take good care of it. Therefore, it is the child that is to blame.

And by adopting a child, he basically bought a punching bag. A toy and a tool all the same.

He maneuvers through the halls of the chief's manor. Humming, and unperturbed. He is concealed, not to be seen from anyone, there was nothing to worry about.

Regardless, the sooner he gets to his poor worshipper, the sooner he gets to ascend back to heaven and continue filling and answering prayers alone once more.

He hears murmurs, along with faint cries and what seemed to be a plank slapping fabric.

Poking his head through the wall, he arches a brow upon seeing the wife of the chief hissing quietly at a boy not far from seventeen years old, as a younger boy - what seemed to be atleast ten - sat in the corner. Relaxed and grinning as though he had won something.

The god quickly does not like that younger boy.

"I told you not to talk to your brother like that, didn't I?!" The woman slaps his back with the small, thick wooden plank with each word. "If you disrespect him again, what more could he do to you once he become a heavenly official?! He's to ascend as a middle court under a famous, and wealthy god! Much more under Xuan Zhen Jianjun himself!"

"I-I didn't even talk to him!" The boy, pale with brown locks, cries. "I didn't even look at hi-" 

"Your brother does not lie!" The god, tired of this woman's bullshit, enters the room. And with one snap of his fingers, he had disguised himself as a cultivator. Revealing his presence to the three that looked at him in utter surprise. "Who are you?! How did you enter here?!" 

"If that boy-" He points at the younger lad. "Was to ascend as a middle court official, there's a higher chance the god he's under would get banished. Not for the god's mortal life but the bad luck he recieved for taking in such despicable boy."

The woman was expectedly not pleased with his words. "Who are you?! How dare you speak to my child like that-!"

"You could be put to jail for abuse, fraud and neglecting your own child. Adopted or not." The god continues boredly. Stepping closer towards the brown haired teen. "You are a prestigious family. High reputation, and a good family image. One word coming from me and you're entire ancestry will be ruined and stained within a day."

"Are you threatening me-"

"Yes." The god interjects. "Yes, I am." 

"What do you want?" The woman, seemingly already understanding the man he was facing was a cultivator of an unknown age, asks begrudingly. "Money? Fortune? What is it?!" 

"I want you, and your husband and that ugly child of yours, out of this city." The god steps infront of the abused boy. Sneering as he glares at the woman. "If you don't want to have more problems with me, I suggest you go find your husband now and leave the second you can."

"You - you ca-"

"Oh, but I can." He smiles, cunning and cold as he asserts more dominance with his appearance alone. "I can, and I will make you leave if that's the last thing I do."

The woman along with the now crying child runs. Leaving the two of them alone in that room.

The god glances back at the terrified teen behind him as he proceeds to make a distance shortening array by the wall.

"W-who are you?" The teen asks, still, the god does not respond and beckons him to enter the array instead. "But my family-" 

"Do you want to leave or not?" The divine being asks impatiently. "Do you want to stay and suffer along with them after what they had made of you, or start a new life?"

The boy hesitates. Glancing at the door where the mother and son had left before returning his gaze to the array.

He enters the array just before the god

Landing in the forest where the god had directly descended on, the boy was evidently confused, nervous, and afraid. Though, the god could not fault him for it.

"What do you know? What can you do?" He asks, clasping his hands behind him in abandon.

The boy nibbles the inside of his cheek, and although he was still perplexed, he spoke, "I can learn fast... I know poetry, I know calligraphy. I have learned basic sword fights. My memory... according to my younger brother's advisers, is good as I can remember details vividly. I... I don't know anymore."

"Are your reflexes fast?"

"Yes."

"What's your name?" The god arches a brow, as they began to walk with no direct direction. Solely just for something to do rather than stand.

"Fu Yao." The boy responds quietly. "It's what my real mother gave me before she passed away."

The god inconspicuously falters in his steps. "I see. Well, Fu Yao..." His figure began to distort, blurring until it becomes clear once more.

Now revealing his true, divine form.

"Would you like to be my first subordinate?"

━━━━

There were flames everywhere.

Weapons. Swords. Arrows. Metal against metal clanging loudly in the air. Arrow heads piercing skin and bones. Blades rending flesh into two, some even beheading some. Screams of agony and yells of encouragement flying around the area.

Bodies of fallen warriors littered around the battle court. Blood staining the land, the foul stench of death illuminating around the plain valleys.

It was not difficult to see who was at the advantage.

What, with having a divine god by their side? A god of war. A god made to bring forth victory in any battle they enter. A martial god helping the mortals' civil war.

Still, the latter side has no means fear. Dedication and determination to win a battle they never could was evident in their features. As clear as day despite it being night

It was a pity.

To see them falling down only for the others to forcefully bring them back up. To see them running to fight with a missing leg, a missing arm, a missing limb. Some even has lost their eye, and yet, they still strike.

Determined to take what was never theirs in the first place.

"How long are you going to keep this war up? It's been two days. A god like you could end this nonsense in not even half a day."

The man in question rounds a finger on the rim of the golden chalice he held. Had been emptied for so long, it was merely for something he could fiddle with his fingers.

"Have they surrendered?" 

"Mortals..." The man roams his eyes around the tent. "Are as stubborn as one can be. Even in death, they will continue."

The god couldn't help but sigh.

He's only a hundred years old god, yet he had already gone tired of occurrences like these.

"Then so be it." The god, sitting lackadaisically on the chair, facing directly the entrance of his tent where he could watch the people fight for their lives, replies just as coldly.

"Let them fight to their graves." 

━━━━

Alas, the end of the war wasn't that far gone.

By the third day of the battle, the latter had surrendered. With only five warriors alive on their side, there was nothing more they could do but to give up what they have and let the former do what they want with them.

The land they fought for, the very land they fought on, was finally theirs.

Many quickly lit up thousands of incenses. Hundreds of people began to pray their thanks, to pray their victory with the help of the divine god. To pray that they will make sure even their descendants will burn more incense for the god.

The said god stood in his own altar. Arms crossed, eyes closed. Focusing on the prayers flying through his head and the merits he's receiving just from those alone.

He gives them fortune. Gives them goodluck on the journey they take after the bloody mess that had occured not even a day ago.

Then he leaves.

He could hear prayers regardless if he's in the temple or not. There was no use in having to stay there when he could help plenty more as he roams throughout the mortal's realm.

His footsteps quickly halts. Glancing back at his temple that wasn't far away, his eyes rove around the area where he had heard a faint cry of a pained child. He follows the sound. Brows etched in confusion and worry for the well-being of someone he doesn't even know.

He finds himself standing in the midst of ruins. The smell of blood still lingering in the air as he pushes planks, woods, and other robbles away until he had found a small body of a boy. Cowering behind a large rock, clothes stained with red, and not wearing any shoes. His black hair in a disastrous mess.

Looking around for any unwanted eyes, he reveals himself. Disguising himself as a lone cultivator traveling around the world, and slowly approaches.

The child was injured. A large gash on his leg that was still profusely bleeding.

"Hey there, little guy." He crouches down, the boy breaking into a more louder mess as he reaches a hand. Retracting it with a frown once the child had winced and further pushed himself on the rock. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're wounded, I can heal you."

The child shook his head, trembling and clearly in utter pain the god could easily remove without breaking a sweat. "Let me help you." He forms a ball of spiritual power above his palm, enough for it to not be overwhelming. "See? This... thing can heal your wound." 

Sniffing, and blinking his eyes repeatedly, the child stares at the spiritual power in awe. Slowly, and hesitantly, he maneuvers closer. Showing the injured leg to the older with an aggressive wince.

It was a more deeper wound than he thought, as he places the palm that held the qi on top of the rended flesh. The bone that had snapped healing quicker as though it had never been fractured. His spiritual energy was quick to heal the entire wound. Giving relief for the child, as the pained expression immediately turned into more akin comfortable.

The god decides he likes this child.

"What's your name?" He asks, blinking back at the child that merely blinked at him in confusion. "You don't have a name?." 

The boy shakes his head.

Picking him up as gently as he could, heedless of his robes getting dirty within a second, he couldn't help but smile.

"I'll call you... Nan Feng." 

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To say that seeing a child cling to the southeastern god was a surprise was an understatement.

In those one hundred years of constantly away from the heavens. Always roaming about in the mortal's realm and rare to see above it, only to ascend back in heaven with a child in his arms. Cradling it as though it was a fragile gem ready to break at any given moment.

It was a sight to behold.

Now, Nan Yang gets reprimanded once more as to why he prefers to linger with the mortals as the new talk in the heavens was him and the child he kept.

He avoids the eyes and mouths. The gazes and words he recieves and hears.

Nan Yang's presence in the heavens was rare itself. And those times his footsteps hitting the golden street were heard, disaster always comes trailing right behind him as Xuan Zhen and him has no good interactions.

Always ending with devastations and ruins.

Thus, as the god of the southeast rounds a corner. The area where the god that rules the southwest usually takes place, the officials began dispersing. Began avoiding that area in hopes they wouldn't be included in whatever ruckus the two would create.

And baffling as it is when the southeastern god doesn't even look at the southwest ruler.

His attention was on the dirty child in his hands, entering his usually empty palace without so much of a word or insult thrown towards the expecting silverette.

"Is that his son?" 

"Nonsense, he fears women!"

"Long lost son?"

"That child does not look above ten. Nan Yang Jiangjun has been a god for a hundred of years, he's known not to get involved with females."

"Adopted. Look at him, he's all stained with blood and dirt and the god himself came from a bloody war, he probably found him amidst the mess."

Still, as the murmurs grew louder and louder, Xuan Zhen scowls. Scowls and sneers at those who dares to try and converse with him

He enters his own palace with an indecipherable glare.

"Fu Yao." 

"Yes, general?" The teen he had taken under him, now grown up as a fine, young man. Pale, his brown hair tied into a neat pony tail, adorned in blue robes. Xuan Zhen had trained him well, for not even a second and he's already standing infront of him. Head lowered and ready to heed any orders.

The silverette purses his lips, crossing his arms as he glanced by the window. The palace of Nan Yang clearly seen as it wasn't too far from his own.

In sheer curiosity, he looks at his head subordinate once more. "The child Nan Yang had brought from the mortal realm, find out his whereabouts."

"Child you say, general?" Fu Yao asks politely, brows shooting up in surprise and confusion. Perhaps he hadn't been made aware of the new gossip roaming about in the heavens. "This one would not disappoint." 

Xuan Zhen watches as the subordinate disappears from within sight once more. Leaving him alone as he couldn't help but move back and forth in frustration.

Who was that child?

Fu Yao lands quietly infront of a window. Crouching down as he conceals himself. Though, he knew that no amount of concealing could ever hide from a well-experienced god that could track down heavenly officials just by the faintest of their spiritual energy.

It was best to keep distance just in case.

The child himself was quiet. Even as Nan Yang had placed him down on one of the divans before swiftly leaving. Presumably to grab wet cloths and new clothes.

Fu Yao takes that chance to enter. Crawling down the wall stealthily as he steps mutely on the ground. Eyes flickering between the door and the child repeatedly as he narrows his gaze.

The child tilts his head curiously at him.

Fu Yao arches a brow, the child does the same.

"Who are you?" He asks, feeling stupid as to why he hadn't even went to the civil goddess to ask for some kind of information and outright barged inside the palace of Nan Yang to ask a child where he came from. "Name?" 

"Nan...-" The child began slowly. Shy and nervous. "Nan F-Feng." 

"Where are you from?" Fu Yao asks again, beginning to get nervous as well as his eyes stuck to the door. Ears perking up for some kind of movements outside the room. "Speak." 

Nan Feng blinks up at him in perplexity. "Have... Have mama die in... in fight? G-good man brought me here."

Piecing the words together, Fu Yao nods in a tad bit of understanding. "No other families?" 

Nan Feng shakes his head. "Gege."

"You have a big brother?" 

The child shakes his head again, then lifts a hand. Making grabby hands with his little fists towards the older. "Gege." 

Fu Yao blinks.

"Nan Feng?" Nan Yang opens the door, small clothes and a towel hanging on his arm. "Who are you talking to?" 

Nan Feng merely giggles as he gets picked up. Nan Yang smiles, though he was confused, atleast the child had a reaction other than nonchalance.

Fu Yao was left staring at them from the window in an utter daze.

━━━━

"The bigger rumours are quite true. His name is Nan Feng. Nan Yang Jiangjun had seen him after the war, bleeding and injured." Fu Yao clears his throat. He had taken the time to investigate further. Asking questions in the area where the battle had taken place, and even going as far as asking Ling Wen herself.

Xuan Zhen rounds a finger on the rim of the glass cup he held. Frowning deeply to himself. "What do you think Nan Yang will do with him now?"

"Well..." Fu Yao hesitates momentarily. "Nan Yang Jiangjun hadn't bothered to take a subordinate under him even after a hundred years. Perhaps Nan Feng would be the first."

He watches the god sit on his chair. Silent and gaze heavy on the stalk of papers on his table.

Fu Yao had knew well his general and the southeastern god of war wasn't on good terms. That just a mention of their names in their presence ignites a flame inside them that fuels up their anger.

He wasn't fairly aware of their past. All he knew was they grew up together in a prosperous kingdom, then became middle court officials themselves. Under the flower crown martial god that was yet to be seen alive or dead.

Then a war had occured, leading them back to poverty and nothing. Until the two ascended as gods, without the flower crown martial god.

But as to why Xuan Zhen seemed to be bothered with the new appearance of that child, Fu Yao wasn't entirely sure.

"It's... It's not his child." 

"I know it's not his damn child, idiot." Xuan Zhen snaps quickly as Fu Yao inconspicuously steps back. "Keep an eye on Nan Feng." 

Fu Yao almost complains. "Keeping an eye" meant basically babysitting just from afar.

He did not become the head subordinate of the palace of Xuan Zhen to look after some damn child that emerged out of nowhere.

A silent sigh, he nods. Inclining his head in respect.

"Yes, general

━━━━

It wasn't hard to stay low and not act like a creep.

As Nan Yang had a reason to stay more in the heavens than usual. Teaching and training Nan Feng about all the things that happens in the three realms.

Fu Yao himself had been running around. Returning scrolls, giving scrolls, reporting missions, giving missions to the other subordinates, all while observing every inch of the child's movements. What he eats, what he does, what he wears.

He had practically memorized his routine already.

Nan Feng would have a walk around the heavens with Nan Yang, sometimes even alone at exactly the middle of the day. Gods and middle court officials would often give him a treat, sometimes small flowers. Putting it on his hair, or merely handing it to him. He'd usually have a little sword dangling by his waist, short enough for his height and light weight.

He would visit the heavenly garden by noon. Offering help to the female goddesses that tends to the flowers by passing the bucket of waters, handing seeds, or cutting those flowers that dried too much.

By night, he'd go back to the palace of Nan Yang with his hands filled with a bouquet of flowers. As the door opens to reveal the god himself, he'd hand it to him with a happy grin as the god takes it with a smile of his own.

By morning, Fu Yao doesn't see Nan Feng that much. There are times where he sees him running around in the back of the palace with a familiar robe in hand, laughing as the southeastern god chases him. Purposely slowing down his steps.

Nan Feng likes plums. It's the fruit that Fu Yao often sees him eating be it inside the palace or playing about the street. Fu Yao would not be surprised if the child would love plum wine as well.

At rare times Nan Yang brings him back down in the mortals realm, they don't take long. Although Nan Yang himself appears injured and bruised with bloody robes and skin, Nan Feng would always be clean. Even have brand new clothes in a bag.

There's an unsurprising reason as to why the heavens had remained quiet even as both the southern gods occasionally pass by each other. Now that the southeastern god spends as much time in heaven as he did in the middle realm, others had expected the heavenly bell to be constantly ringing.

They don't expect Nan Yang himself to obviously avoid Xuan Zhen.

Fu Yao himself had seen first hand the confusion and frustration in his general's face upon entering his office after another day of no fighting. Not even arguments that they usually have.

That went on for months.

Of silently avoiding the silverette, the archer had began teaching Nan Feng sword fights and even archery. Beginning with a small bow, and a safety arrow.

With Nan Yang being a great teacher, even Fu Yao had learned a bit about aiming and shooting even as he was just listening from a distance.

Still, accidentally getting too close or bumping into the child unexpectedly was inevitable.

Just as this current time.

"I'm sorry!" The child was polite as well, contrary to who raised him. Bowing his head as the scrolls the latter held scattered about.

Although, Fu Yao cannot deny Nan Yang knows his manners too.

Fu Yao doesn't say anything, merely crouching down to pick up the scrolls and get as far away as possible as he usually is from this child. Nan Feng does the same, grabbing the ones further away and handing it quietly to him.

They were quickly the center of attention.

Seeing the head disciple of Xuan Zhen with the child from Nan Yang's palace interacting in broad day light with the rivalry happening between their palaces, it was a sight to behold.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, gege." Nan Feng repeats once they both stood. His height had already reached Fu Yao's waist. It was no doubt he would be as tall as him once he grows old, or be a centimeter taller. "I'm sorry." 

"Stop apologizing." Fu Yao hisses quietly. Sighing once he hears the whispers erupt around them.

"Even to a child, they don't make exemptions? Xuan Zhen officials are truly resentful."

"Look at the head of Xuan Zhen's subordinates, treating a child badly already?"

Fu Yao would've face palmed if he could. He opted in rolling his eyes instead and balances all the scrolls in one arm.

He pats Nan Feng's lowered head. "Watch where you're going next time." He pats him again, as Nan Feng lifts his head in surprise. Eyes wet as though he was close to tears.

Fu Yao awkwardly nods, before he resumes walking towards the palace of Ling Wen to return the scrolls

Completely unexpecting the child to run back beside him. "I can help you with-" 

"No." Fu Yao interjects. "Go back to what you were going to do before you crashed into me."

"But... But I've been looking for you." Nan Feng spoke quietly, almost shyly as he blinks up at the latter. "I was looking for you everywhere, gege." 

Halting in his steps, the head disciple sighs heavily as he turns towards the child that now stood stiffly infront of him. "First, stop looking for me. Second, stop calling me gege for fuck's sake-"

"Shixiong?" Nan Feng asks. "Can I call you shix-"

"No. You are not my shidi. We're not even student teacher - goodness! Just... Just stay away from me." Fu Yao scowls, walking farther away only for the child to follow him up until they reached the entrance of the palace.

Fu Yao glances down at Nan Feng. Nan Feng blinks up at him innocently.

He sighs, "The least you could do is stay here." 

The child obediently nods, seemingly intimidated by the mountains of scrolls inside the palace as Fu Yao makes his way towards the head subordinate of the goddess

"Here to return and borrow another batch of scrolls, Fu Yao?" Li Zhiang smiles, taking the scroll as she calls a different disciple. "General Xuan Zhen had been reading many scrolls nowadays."

"He's been reading it ever since. There's no difference now." Fu Yao replies, blank and cold as he gives the list of titles he needed to borrow for the mean time. Li Zhiang takes it with no complaint, though, she kept her gaze towards the young man. Not once had she averted her eyes.

It was no secret the head disciple of Ling Wen fancied that of Xuan Zhen. Especially as they had conversed almost everyday with the constant appearance of Fu Yao inside the palace for scrolls or papers.

Even Xuan Zhen himself noticed the slight change of the subordinate not under him.

While it doesn't bother Fu Yao, as they had already spoken that Li Zhiang can like him - that just doesn't mean Fu Yao has to like her back. As he has no interests in any romantic relationships.

Atleast not yet.

"Here are the scrolls." Li Zhiang smiles wider, as though she was excited to say something. "And, um, Fu Yao?." 

The man in question takes the scrolls. Reading the titles and the paper in his hand in case they had missed something he wasn't aware. "What is it?" He asks, unbothered to even take his eyes off the words.

"There's a small gathering happening at uh, in the mortals."

"Nan Feng?" Fu Yao arches a brow, eyes falling on the small arms wrapping around his waist. The child himself burying his face in his robes, small sniffles could be heard as Fu Yao looks at him then at the entrance to see a couple of subordinates from random gods running away. "Oi. What happened?" 

"Nan Feng? As in..." Li Zhiang crouches down to look at the child clearly. "As in the Nan Feng from Nan Yang Jiangjun? Why - hey, his cheek is turning red-"

Fu Yao drops the scrolls in abandon. Quickly kneeling down to pry off the hands that attempted to hide his face. Eyes quickly landing on the swollen cheek as though someone had hit him with a thick book. "What happened? Who did this to you?" 

"Gege..." Nan Feng cries, his arms encircling around the latter's neck. "G-gege told me to stay there, and... and I did and - and those people came and th-they kept saying mean words about gege and I - I told them off and they slapped me and-"

"Who did?" Fu Yao gently presses a palm on his cheek, channeling his spiritual energy towards the swollen skin as he furrows his brows. "Who did, Nan Feng?" 

"I don't know who they are, gege. I'm s-sorry-"

Fu Yao gingerly picks him up. His cheek has healed, turning back to its wheat colour as he glances back at the other head subordinate. "May I ask a favour, Zhiang? Can you bring these scrolls back to Xuan Zhen Jiangjun? And if he asks where I am just... just say that I'm doing a mission."

"You want me to lie to general Xuan Zhen?" Li Zhiang looks righteously terrified. "That god can look at me dead in the eye and I would say my whole ancestry's secret, I cannot lie to a man like him."

"Please." Technically, it wasn't a lie. As Xuan Zhen did ask Fu Yao to keep an eye on Nan Feng, just not this close. "Just this once, Zhiang." 

Li Zhiang reluctantly looks at the civil goddess, sighing before she nods.

Fu Yao nods at her. "Thank you." He doesn't waste any time, and sprints out of the palace. Careful as not to bother Nan Feng in his arms as he narrows his eyes. He spots the group in not even a few distance from the palace itself.

"Is that them?" He asks, the child nods. Slowly wiping his cheeks as Fu Yao places him back down on the ground. "Stay here." 

"Gege, what are you going to do?" Nan Feng clutches his sleeve, frowning at the group of subordinates before pouting up at the other. "You're going to hurt them?" 

"Do you not want me to hurt them?"

Nan Feng's hesitancy was all Fu Yao needed as an answer. He pats his head once more

"Then stay here and watch." 

━━༻••༺━━

"What is this I am hearing that a fight between the subordinates occured in the middle of the street?" Nan Yang's irritated, and no doubt worried voice booms in the great martial hall. "And Nan Feng was included no less?" 

"Nan Feng wasn't specifically in the fight, Nan Yang Jiangjun." Ming Guang clarifies. As to why he was here, six of his own subordinates had been dragged in the mess as well despite not being involved in the reason and cause. "He was a bystander that almost got pulled."

Nan Yang's golden, piercing eyes roams about the lined up subordinates. Five, he noticed was under the western god's care. Eight comes from the eastern god. Three coming from a civil god. Atleast fifteen coming from other different martial gods.

One, despite being alone, looks less injured. With a bloody lip, bloody nose, a bleeding temple with his bruised knuckles - those were fine compared to the broken limbs most of them have.

Nan Yang realized it was Fu Yao. The head, and first disciple of his own rival, Xuan Zhen.

Behind him, was a familiar child. Grasping the blue robes in his fists tightly as though he was afraid to let go. Relief washes over him immediately upon seeing Nan Feng was alright.

"Who started it?" Xuan Zhen spoke up loudly, the silverette already looking annoyed with this whole ordeal. "Who started the fight?" 

Naturally, no one replies immediately. As hesitant lips quivered as though they were uncertain if they should speak up, or keep their lips sealed.

However, eyes were quick to draw towards the only Xuan Zhen disciple. The man himself gluing his eyes to the ground, and never lifting them up.

Xuan Zhen arches a brow in surprise. "Fu Yao?" 

"General." The subordinate says quietly. "This one is apo-" 

"I'm not asking for apologies and you know that." Xuan Zhen snaps, the southwestern deity scowling deeply as he stares down at his subordinate. "Tell me exactly why you are involved in this fight."

Fu Yao inconspicuously clenches his fists. Biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted iron as he takes a deep breath. "I started the fight, general." 

Though, before any of the upper court could even say a word in, a younger voice quickly spoke. "No, he did not!" Nan Feng exclaims, frowning angrily as he points at the five disciples of three different gods. "They did!" 

"Nan Feng." Nan Yang calls, stepping forward. "It's best-" 

"Why should my gege take the blame?!" Nan Feng tugs at Fu Yao's sleeve. Unmindful of the bloodbath occurring in the head disciple's mind. "I was waiting for my gege infront of - of a place, and then they came and started calling my gege awful names! So I told them to stop and they hit my face!"

Nan Yang furrows his brows, shooting a glare at the said subordinates that quickly stepped back.

"Then my gege hit them back for me!" The child refuses to quiet down. Even pulling Fu Yao's sleeve infront of all the lined up subordinates and sprawling his little arms. "And then they all started hitting my gege!"

Ming Guang points at his own. "Even them?" 

Nan Feng furiously nods. "All of them!" 

This child... Fu Yao shuts his eyes momentarily in complete exasperation.

"They ganged up on my fucking disciple." Xuan Zhen lets out a haughty snort. "And still ended up with a broken arm, pathetic."

"Nan Feng." Nan Yang crouches down to be eye level with the child. "It's bad to lie." 

"I'm not lying!" Nan Feng argues stubbornly. "Not lying! Gege is not at fault! He's the one right!"

"Children doesn't lie when it comes to people they care for." Ming Guang walks over to his own subordinates. Smiling at them blankly as he began pushing them towards the exit. "You're to be punished with a hundred missions and no rest. Beginning now."

The group does not take a second to leave.

"As for those who had started the fight itself, and hit a goddamn child that is not even half their fucking age." Nan Yang stands up once more, having the one to give punishment to the five as they attacked a straight official from his palace. "You would be suspended from the heavens for a decade."

A few disciples of the martial god of the three realms quickly came forth with cursed shackles. Shackling those that had been punished as they guide them off the palace.

Nan Yang beckons for Nan Feng to come closer. As the child did so whilst the others choose a proper punishment for the rest of the subordinates. "Are you alright?" He asks. "Nothing hurts?"

"Nah-uh. Gege healed it for me." Nan Feng grins widely, even looking at the man in question in awe. "He healed my cheek." 

"Nan Feng." The god purses his lips. "Why do you call him gege? Did he do anything to you?"

"Bold of you to even assume Fu Yao would do anything to a damn child." Xuan Zhen sneers, glaring daggers at the southeastern deity. "You just heard him that Fu Yao had healed and even avenged him, and that is how you thank my disciple?"

"We could've avoided this fight if your disciple haven't blindly asked for a fucking fight in broad daylight-"

"And let Nan Feng live on with the fact that they could've fought back but chose not to because his father decided violence wasn't an answer?" Xuan Zhen scoffs. "Ironic coming from a man like you." 

"What is your problem?" Nan Yang asks furiously. As though ready to demolish the emperor's palace in a blink if ever the silverette crosses the line again. "I have avoided you, and refused to fight back because I know it will just end up like this -"

"Like what, Feng Xin?" Xuan Zhen yellz. "Like what?!"

"Like everything I say is fucking wrong! You're always the one starting a damn fight - there's a child here for fuck's sake!"

"Oh, just because you have a child now from an unknown mother, suddenly you have a golden heart?!"

"What the fuck that wasn't what I meant!" 

"Generals." Ming Guang stands infront the southern deities. "Let us not fight after the middle court. It's best if we handle the current situation first-"

"Fu Yao is my disciple, I handle whatever punishment given to him. Should that child be lying, he should be punished as well." There was no more words to say as Xuan Zhen turns and leaves. Fu Yao trailing quietly behind him as Nan Feng stares at him worriedly.

"He's injured." He says quietly. "Will gege be fine?"

"Yes." Nan Yang grabs his hand. Cradling it on his own. "He will heal." 

"But..." He looks down once more.

"Don't talk to him ever again." 

━━━━

Three years and Nan Feng definitely haven't stopped talking to Fu Yao.

Fu Yao had given his best in getting rid of him, really. To return back to the usual observation from a distant and nothing had worked. The child was persistent.

Thus, he had given up.

The thirteen years old disciple, now able to handle minor missions such as those ghosts in the lowest ranks. Or merely helping out the mortals in small problems.

He had managed to learn how to use his own core and spiritual energy without having to ask. Nan Feng was a smart boy, though, he was often perceived to the contrary as he doesn't act smart enough for the heavens.

As akin to who had raised him, Nan Feng acts before he thinks. Thinks that whatever he sees was right, was right. It had always needed to be corrected lest he grows up with the tendency to yell at someone who tries to correct him.

But as Nan Yang is, Nan Feng is also stubbornly loyal. Awfully loyal some had even spread a rumour that if ever Nan Yang himself creates a fraud in the heavens, he would still back him up with no evidence to provide.

It wasn't uncommon to see Nan Feng with the head official of the palace of Xuan Zhen either.

Where Fu Yao would be, it'd be expected to see a shorter man eagerly trailing behind him.

Alas, Nan Yang had grown hopeless and silently just watched them from afar. He's only surprised Xuan Zhen would let his own subordinate so close with his own.

The gods were even baffled the odd relationship between the two did not rise up another oil to fuel the anger already thundering between the southern deities.

In fact, even Jun Wu was surprised to hear the heavens had been quiet for three years. No destructions to be seen, no palaces to be rebuilt for rubbish reasons, no pavilions demolished, and no blood was spilled.

Though, there were the inevitable loud arguments.

Thus, as the heavens shook with yet another god's palace getting leveled down with both an arrow and a saber, the gods could not help but sigh and be glad they had a moment's of peace before the vicious fights resumed.

Blood coming from the two gods themselves had already splattered on different parts of the heavens.

So did Ling Wen's distress of counting yet another amount of merit's lost and needed merits to pay for all the destructions.

It was the first actual fight after Nan Feng had been brought to heavens. Hence, as the teenager sits quietly on one of the divans in his own chambers. Knees pressed against his chest with confusion, worry and a hint of fear on his features - the gods could not help but be curious as to what is happening to him now.

It was only a matter of seconds before a knock on his window was heard amidst all the robbles hitting the golden street. Nan Feng was skeptical, but as he soon remembers the only person that would weirdly enter through the window, he was all too eager to open it and let the man in.

Wrapping his arms around Fu Yao before he could even stand up from landing on the ground, Nan Feng murmurs, "I'm scared." He tightens his hold, feeling himself get pulled onto a lap as he hides his face in the crook of the latter's neck.

Fu Yao encircles an arm around his waist, another slowly patting his head like one would a dog if they ever acknowledge the animal. "It's alright. It's alright. You're going to be safe. Nan Yang Jiangjun - as I assume, had set up an array around this palace to keep you safe. My general won't attack this place knowing you're here too."

Xuan Zhen wasn't entirely of an asshole to demolish a palace with a thirteen years old boy inside it.

"They're fighting..." Nan Feng trails off softly, "Aren't you mad at me?" 

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"My general is hurting your own general, shouldn't you be... not liking me because they fight?" Another trembling and Nan Feng hugs the older even tighter.

Fu Yao purses his lips. "Xuan Zhen Jiangjun and Nan Yang Jiangjun has... a bad past. They are known in the heavens to have incredibly terrible fights that would end up both of them very, very bruised. They fight because they have their misunderstandings, and that's okay."

Nan Feng frowns, "Why would it be okay if they get hurt because they couldn't understand each other?"

"It's because they couldn't understand each other."

"Why can't they just talk and understand each other?"

Fu Yao's eyes slowly sweeps over the chambers he was horrifying getting familiar with. "Verbal communication..." He began, "Is not both of our general's good traits. They are not good with words, so they rather choose to communicate with their fists and weapons."

"That's bad." Nan Feng frowns deeper, lifting his head up to look at the other's gaze. "They should learn." 

"Oh trust me-" 

"I do."

"... They're both a hundred years old god." Fu Yao pats his head again. "They fought more vicious and more destructive than this before and I don't think it will change any sooner. It's not easy to get used to it, but it's not impossible either."

"Do you think we'll end up like them?" Nan Feng's eyes were filled with fear. A different kind of fear as Fu Yao held him close.

The head subordinates shakes his head, inconspicuously pulling him even closer to his chest as though he truly feared for the outcome of their general's rage.

"No." 

━━━━

"General." Fu Yao held the container containing the herbs and oil. Along with a towel, and a set of new robes as the man himself sat on his table, slowly and surely bandaging the newly acquired wounds from the recent fight.

Fu Yao would've worried if this was the first he had seen Xuan Zhen in this state.

But as time flew, and he got used to the gruesome battles, Fu Yao had soon learnt Xuan Zhen was not in pain, nor was he suffering.

Xuan Zhen just seemed pleased. Satisfied even that he had a good fight with his rival.

Fu Yao doesn't understand.

He kept quiet. Placing the things on the table mutely as he inclines his head in respect. "Anything else, general?" He watches blood drip from an arrow wound on his chest that the god has yet to pay attention to. Truly, Fu Yao oughts to have a pain tolerance just like him.

"No." Xuan Zhen finishes bandaging up his knuckles, moves on to removing his armor and outer layers as he applies oil on his face as the purple-ish hues does not leave a disgusting black spot. "How's Nan Feng?" 

The candle flickers slowly. Fu Yao relocates his gaze towards it. "He's... fine. He trusts me now, just as you said he should."

"Good." Xuan Zhen's right shoulder was a bit dislocated, angled at an angle that shouldn't be even human as the subordinate quickly realizes the arrow wound was accompanied with a large gash starting from the dislocated shoulder, down to his lower chest. A gash that could have led to the general being cut in complete half. "Double the trust. Make sure he'd rather choose you than Feng Xin."

"I don't think that's po-"

"Make it possible." Xuan Zhen interjects coldly. Voice and gaze both sharp as though threatening and Fu Yao quickly lowers his head. "Nan Feng is already similar to Feng Xin even from a young age - and like Feng Xin, Nan Feng would eventually leave him for you."

Fu Yao clenches his fists behind him. "Nan Feng... Nan Feng is a bit different-"

"I don't care, Fu Yao. Just make it possible." Xuan Zhen throws the now red cloth on the bucket filled with blood rather water. "Feng Xin is dumb, Nan Feng is dumb." 

Fu Yao knew better than to argue. Lest Xuan Zhen takes the matter in his own hands and make something even more horrible than backstabbing Nan Feng.

So he nods graciously, then leaves the god to attend to his own needs.

━━━━

"General, are you okay?" A small head peaks out from the door. A frowning face already directed at the man in question as the boy enters slowly. "You're bleeding." 

Nan Yang could only smile. Reassuring the child as he beckons him closer with his good hand, the other, almost fractured. His dominant hand had been twisted at an inhumane angle, his appearance filled with ripped armors and clothes and large, open wounds could be clearly seen from beneath it.

Nan Feng steps close. Closer and closer until he had reached infront of him. "You're hurt." 

"Did he come again?" Nan Yang asks instead, applying the oil he keeps inside his chambers. "Fu Yao?" 

"Yes." Nan Feng sits down on the floor and Nan Yang frowns, glancing at the divan just right beside the child. "He came again, and told me that you fight with his general quite often. It had become a constant in the heavens."

"It did." The god could not help but snort. Whilst he would take anything other than mindlessly fighting, having the silverette's attention was good enough. "Were you scared?" 

"I was." Nan Feng smiles softly up at the older. "I wasn't scared you would die-" 

"Gee, thanks."

"Xuan Zhen Jiangjun wouldn't kill you." 

Nan Yang's smile falters for a moment. He checks his body once more and couldn't help but laugh helplessly. "Aren't these injuries proof enough?" 

"He could kill you, as you can with him. You're holding back with him as he is with you." Nan Feng plays with the cap of the oil bottle. Mindlessly speaking to the older god with no attention to what he may cause. "I can't think of anything else why you both are alive now."

He looks down at the bow. The middle bloody, and fingerprints evident. The string itself had been snapped, red instead of the usual white.

"It's because you both don't want to actually kill each other, don't you?"

Nan Yang smiles once more, although this time, it was of a different kind of pain.

He pats his head, akin to what he had seen the subordinate do constantly if they ever see him together.

"Don't give me hopes, child." 

━━༻••༺━━

"What's that?"

"Those are called... candied fruits." Fu Yao takes one from the table, then slightly bends down as he hovers it above Nan Feng's lips. "It's sweet, crunchy and juicy at the same time. Try it."

"Candied fruit?" Nan Feng opens his mouth to bite down, one hand holding the other's to balance it as he chews. Eyes widening in surprise and delight. "It's sweet!" 

"As I have just said." Fu Yao gives him the rest of the stick. "There's plum here too, you love plum don't you?"

"Mh-hm." Nan Feng responds enthusiastically, taking the stick of plum from the other then frowns. "How do you know I love plums? I never mentioned it to you before."

"Oh." Fu Yao quickly comes up with a lie. "I saw how you ate the plums so fast and happily infront of Nan Yang's palace one day, and just... guessed."

"Oh? Were you checking me out, gege?" Nan Feng tilts his head teasingly. The sixteen years old head disciple of Nan Yang inching closer as Fu Yao rolls his eyes. "I won't annoy you about it." 

"I'm still annoyed with you either way." Fu Yao shoves him away, scowling as he had paid for the candied fruits they bought before stomping away from the stall. "If you were just here to disturb me, why bother coming with me in the first place?"

"I've learned many things from you." The younger wasn't far from him, a few feet of distance behind as Fu Yao reminds himself he was here in the mortal's realm for a mission and not to slack off. "Many, many things. I wanted to learn more!"

"Learn from your general. He teaches you, doesn't he?"

"Ai, Nan Yang Jiangjun is quite busy these days. I'm not sure why. Even his majesty was uncertain what's going on with him."

"You asked the emperor?"

"The old man? No."

Fu Yao rolls his eyes again. Although he had been used to having this younger trail behind him over the course of the six years, it was always easy to get annoyed by an unwanted companion.

"What ghost are we going to handle today, gege?" Nan Feng catches up to him easily, hands clasped behind him as he tilts his body to smile at the older. He was still a few inches shorter, if he ever reaches the age of adult, they would be the same height. "I assume it's low rank again, yes? I don't think Xuan Zhen Jiangjun gives you the wrath ranks."

"Most wraths are deadly, and are much better given to the gods himself. As is to the rank above it." The brunette arches a brow at him. "Haven't you been taught that?" 

"You told me before." Nan Feng says sheepishly. "I forgot. I'm sorry, gege." 

Fu Yao could only sigh. He's spent years teaching this boy only to have a respond later on that he had forgotten even the most simplest of knowledge. Nan Feng could never forget sword skills, and even archery, but he would forget how to make a cure for the mose basic poison that could result in a mortal's death.

He is the head subordinate of Nan Yang, how is he so careless with his memories?

"Gege, are you mad?" Nan Feng frowns, running infront and walking backwards as Fu Yao walks forth relentlessly. "I'm sorry, gege. I'll do much better next time. I won't forget anymore."

"How many times have you said that?"

"... More than once."

"Exactly."

The younger smiles then, out of the blue. "I'm sorry, please punish this lowly one. I have not been able to be competent enough as I lack the capability to memorize everything this good gege have taught me. I have failed to treasure his teachings. Will you forgive me?"

Fu Yao smacks his forehead with a scowl. "Your punishment is to shut up unless spoken to, don't be a distraction. And no, I do not forgive you."

Nan Feng pouts, but keeps his mouth sealed. Fortunately for Fu Yao as they resume the journey towards the designated area of where the ghost should be.

Upon reaching the end of the open field, just by the entrance of a dark forest, they could already smell a slight scent of iron. A familiar smell as Fu Yao's steps began to hasten in case they have been a bit too late.

A cave was what they stumbled upon. A small cave, the smell of blood lingering in the air as Fu Yao snaps his fingers, igniting a flicker of flame above it. He slowly trudges inside, immediately seeing splatters of blood all over the stone walls, above them, more evidently on the floor as though someone had dragged a bleeding animal inside this place with force.

He draws his sword, hearing his companion do the same as they both realize how long this cave was despite it being small on the outside.

Fu Yao stops momentarily. Tilting his head to the side, he narrows his eyes. "If I say you run, you run. It doesn't matter what you or what I am doing, you run."

Nan Feng hesitates. "... Even without you?" 

"Even without me." Fu Yao says sternly, glaring in warning as Nan Feng stays quiet. Mutely nodding as a response as they continue the walk.

Then they hear chewing. Bones cracking, and sounding as though it's getting crumpled between teeth.

A beast, Fu Yao was certain. What else would be eating bones of an animal if not of a human?

"WHO DARES TO FUCKING DISTURB THIS FUCKING ANCESTOR'S MEAL?!"

They halt. Eyes widening in surprise and confusion as their eyes quickly find the source of voice.

"YOU FUCKIN' COME IN HERE AND DISTURB THIS ANCESTOR'S PEACE - YOU BOTH SHOULD BE FUCKING PUNISHED! FUCKING SHIT-EATERS!"

Fu Yao doubles the power of the flame above his palm. The light able to brighten up the entire place that now they realized was filled with limbs of humans. Cut into different parts, and a few had already been shamelessly bitten into.

An arm was currently held by the ghost's hands. Mouth bloody, green clothes stained in complete red.

Fu Yao wrinkles his nose, and as if almost in instinct, stands infront of the younger. "You call us shit-eaters when you're the one eating bloody meat?"

"And you still question this fucking ancestor?! I should kill you right the fuck now!" The ghost throws the arm towards them, standing up and Fu Yao lifts his wielded hand in alert. "SLAVES! HURRY THE FUCK UP AND KILL THESE SONS OF AN ASSHOLE!"

The cave shook momentarily, emerging from the dark could easily be recognized as empty vessels from what seemed to be the humans that had laid dead around them. There are about a hundred already, and the head subordinate of the southwestern ruler does not want to know how many was still able to appear after this wave.

"Use your bow." Fu Yao commands, bracing himself for the upcoming attacks. The only advantage here was they were faster. It was obvious the vessels moved as fast as an incredibly old man. "Shoot them, it's quicker." 

Nan Feng does as he's told. Creating a bow and arrow with his spiritual energy as Fu Yao takes his sword. Stretching his neck and shoulders.

The ghost scoffs, picking a new body part and began munching on it once more.

The heavenly officials attack first. Further making the cave tremble beneath and above them as they shoot and slice. Nan Feng, taught by the great archer himself, was careful not to shoot the older infront and even shoots those that were too near.

Fu Yao focuses on those nearer to the ghost himself. As each vessel he strikes, was an inch closer to the ghost. He wasn't certain what rank he was, he only knew was below wrath.

"Son of a bitch!" The ghost screams once Fu Yao had managed to hit the limb he was eating. "Fucking bitch still fucking stubborn!" 

"You curse too much." Fu Yao rolls his eyes.

A new wave of vessels began. And before Fu Yao could hit the ghost himself, a few vessels had started to approach him quicker than the previous wave.

"They move faster!" Fu Yao exclaims, jumping slightly as the height was a bit too limited. Landing just infront of Nan Feng once more. "Be careful -" He hisses, not being able to dodge the hand that scratched his arm as more and more vessels emerge until they were completely surrounded. The ghost no longer in view.

Fu Yao drops one of the swords he held, as two arrows whistles from behind. Passing by both sides of his head and hitting the vessels right infront of him.

Nan Feng still does not speak. The punishment taken more seriously than intended.

It takes a few minutes of continuous attacks for Fu Yao to get scratched again. This time, on his cheek by a much taller, and much bigger vessel that he quickly slices in half with his sword and ignites a new flicker of flame to burn them.

And another few seconds to realize there were no more arrows flying in the cave.

"Nan Feng - Nan Feng?!" His mind blurs, uncertain what he should do upon seeing the younger getting strangled by the same ghost with a bloody cloth. His feet above the ground and face already turning a bit blue. "What the fuck - What the fuck, what the fuck-"

The ghost snickers. "Dumb! DUMB! DUMB FUCKER! YOU FUCKER! I'LL KILL YOU ONCE I'M DONE WITH THIS ONE!" And as if on cue, more vessels went up to stand in between them.

Fu Yao's blood runs cold upon realizing the situation. They were at a disadvantage. The force on Nan Feng's neck did not lessen, in fact, it even shows as though it had been doubled and even as Fu Yao forces his way through the vessels - more will come.

"Nan Feng - Nan Feng. What the fuck. Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck." Fu Yao forms a ball of spiritual energy on his palm, unmindful of all the arms that began to scratch, claw, and slit at his body.

In his panic, he lifts his hand and shoots out a heavenly emergency signal. A signal of distress that gods usually heed, but not for those middle officials.

Fu Yao has half the mind Xuan Zhen would not care for him, in his own hopes, he wishes Nan Yang has enough care for his own disciple even if Nan Feng was no longer the only one.

In the meantime, he hacks at each vessel that would just stand infront of him. Not those that grabbed at him even as it hinders him from moving.

Nan Feng's face was beginning to darken.

Fu Yao was going to scream.

The cave they were in begins to tremble even harder. And in fear, Fu Yao's eyes darts around for more vessels that would emerge.

"G-ge-geg-ge-" Nan Feng chokes out, his wiggling of resistance slowly turning weaker. Tears running down his eyes as he gasps for air, the spiritual energy made bow beginning to disappear on the floor. "R-ru-ru-" 

"You have a punishment!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Fu Yao and the ghost yells in unison. One in anger and another in distress as the trembling doubles.

Fu Yao hears the familiar ring of the heavenly bell.

Then the sudden lifting of the stone ceilings from above as though someone had taken a knife and scraped it off.

The ghost immediately lets go of Nan Feng, Fu Yao does not even hesitate in pushing off the confused vessels and running towards him before he could collapse on the floor. All while calling for his name over and over, again and again. "Nan Feng. Nan Feng - Nan Feng, Nan Feng-."

Chanting it in panic, in fear, in distraught.

"Nan Feng. Nan Feng. Nan Feng." 

His voice becomes weak once he saw the latter's eyes were shut close. His breathing uneven. Sometimes harsh, sometimes normal, sometimes weak, sometimes faster than normal.

Each intake of Nan Feng's breath was another layer of panic for Fu Yao.

Two familiar figures lands just beside them. One holding a saber, and another a bow.

Fu Yao almost cries in relief.

"What in the fucking world-" Nan Yang's eyes land on his disciple, and almost immediately, he crouches down to check him up. Feeling for his heartbeat, the cloth imprinted around his neck, his face completely red.

And still, he held onto Fu Yao as though his life depended on it.

"Nan Feng?" Nan Yang calls, surging spiritual energy into him. Even shaking him a bit as Fu Yao forcefully lets him go for the god to pick him up. "He's in need of a healer. I'll just - I'll just go-."

"Please." Fu Yao couldn't help but beg. "He's been strangled almost to death - I don't know for how long. I didn't realize it sooner and I'm so sorry, general. I haven't been observing that well and-"

"Fu Yao." A hand places itself on his shoulder. Xuan Zhen purses his lips, gesturing for the other god to go as Nan Yang nods and ascends back to heaven on the spot. "Fu Yao." Strong hands held the subordinates' own and only did Fu Yao realize how it was shaking so vigorously.

"Stop panicking, Nan Feng will be fine." Xuan Zhen, just like the southeastern god did, channels his own spiritual energy into the latter to heal the visible wounds he saw. "I had only ordered you to make Nan Feng trust you, I did not say anything about caring for him."

"I couldn't - I could not help it. He's -" Fu Yao's words caught in his throat. Completely uncertain what more to say because what was Nan Feng to him? He was no longer just the brat that would follow him like a tail. No longer just the kid that would ask for a senior to teach him everything they could teach him.

He's already sixteen. He'd grown so much, Fu Yao could barely keep up.

So what was he to Fu Yao?

Fu Yao swallows down, lowering his head as Xuan Zhen watches him patiently.

"He's - he's a... he's a f-friend." 

━━༻••༺━━

Fu Yao began avoiding Nan Feng.

An odd thing to do after that near death experience.

It wasn't even Xuan Zhen that made him do it.

However, as things progress, time flies, and years go by, Fu Yao does not want anything to do with that man anymore.

He's already twenty years old, he could fend for himself.

Already the same height as Fu Yao, usually has two swords on his waist belt instead of one despite having archery as his specialty.

Regardless, he had taken upon himself to be the one to part away. Actually putting effort in hiding, and lying, and running away before one could blink if he ever senses even just his shadow nearby.

Even going as far as to ask Nan Yang to order Nan Feng to stop looking for him unless necessary.

Because the man was persistent.

Knocking on the palace of Xuan Zhen knowing damn well he'd only be greeted by the owner himself. Asking the civil goddess if ever there was a mission Fu Yao had attended to. Constantly, and stubbornly trying to get ahold of the head subordinate.

Fu Yao was just as persistent to avoid him.

Not even a glimpse of a shadow was shown, Nan Feng was growing helpless but not hopeless.

If one plan does not work, he'd think of another. If that one does not work, he would think of another again. An endless loop to get a formula to solve a simple problem.

The gods and middle court themselves had participated in this little game. Although they only had interest in the beginning, it was a tremendous help for Nan Feng.

A god would say Fu Yao should go to this place, only to end up meeting Nan Feng instead.

He ran.

A group of middle court officials would corner Fu Yao until Nan Feng arrives.

He attacked them.

Another god would bargain with Fu Yao to do this or that.

He resolutely refused.

Nan Feng was going mad.

To an extent he had sometimes directed his anger towards the other officials of Nan Yang's palace. Barking orders and would even do it himself if the officials were too slow for his liking.

He had taken most of the missions. So he's constantly in the mortal's realm much like the general himself. Fighting ghosts, helping mortals, killing beasts, hunting boars.

Thinking of Fu Yao if he ever sees a damn tanghulu.

Back in the heavens, the first thing he does everytime was to look for the other. And each time he tries, it was as though Fu Yao would just simply... disappear.

Nan Feng would've thought he had gotten banished if not for the fact the head disciple of Ling Wen would still gush and talk about him

It makes him feel icky everytime he hears her say Fu Yao had talked to me earlier, Fu Yao came back with sixteen more scrolls - I think he's just doing it to talk to me, Fu Yao.

Fu Yao Fu Yao Fu Yao Fu Yao-

Why wouldn't he talk to me too?

Nan Feng had backtracked multiple times. Had followed his previous footsteps in hopes he would be able to figure out what went wrong. What he did wrong. What mistake he had managed to do that led to this.

All he could find was the last conversation they had. With Nan Feng forgetting one of the important things Fu Yao had taught him that made the older mad.

Perhaps... Perhaps that's why Fu Yao had avoided him.

He was just... tired of him.

Nan Feng's hurting himself more and more than necessary. Maybe the head subordinate had just gotten busier, Xuan Zhen had removed a few officials from his palace after all. Another load of weight on his shoulders that he needed to remove in order to be able to converse with Nan Feng once more.

Still, it was evident Fu Yao does not want anything to do with him.

"You're here for a mission again?" 

"Yes, general."

Nan Yang frowns, looking around the open field they're both in. Coincidentally bumping into each other as they go their merry ways towards the specific mission they choose. "You haven't healed from your previous mission. It's not safe going on missions after missions."

"I have healed, general." He didn't. "Nothing hurts." His heart does. He lowers his head in respect, politely moving out of the way as he bows momentarily. "I'm needed in that area to handle a round of ghosts."

Nan Yang still looks skeptical. Though, he nods and disguises himself as a traveler. "Don't exert too much energy. I'm going to fire you if you work too much."

Nan Feng forces a laugh. In a way one does to impress their seniors as he nods once more. "I understand, general." 

The god nods again. His appearance slightly less intimidating as he fixes the sheathed sword on his belt. His bow disguised as a normal blade.

That's a cue for the middle official to leave. Clearing his throat awkwardly. Though, it doesn't take a few steps before the god spoke again.

"He hadn't come?" 

Nan Feng hesitantly turns to him. "... Who?" 

"Fu Yao." The god looks at him then, unbothered to hide the original colour of his eyes. Gold directly looking at the middle official. "He hadn't visited?" 

"No... No, it's been long since he visited, general." Nan Feng says sadly, the realization as painful as he remembers.

"I don't think he'll ever visit again." 

━━༻••༺━━

"You've been working especially hard. Don't you want to have a little bit of break? This place does not lack in officials."

"It's alright, general. There's no need. I won't be the head if I cannot handle this much."

"I made you head because of your skills, competence and determination." Xuan Zhen crosses his arms, leaning on the doorframe. "Not because of how you work yourself to death."

Fu Yao almost reprimands him. To say that he had inherited this kind of trait because of the god himself that would not even leave his office for a mere li unless necessary.

He opted in letting go of the scroll instead. Sighing, he shuts his eyes momentarily. "There's... There's nothing I could do but work, general. I'm sorry."

"Apologizing again. Ai." The god breaths out what seemed to be a tired sigh. In spite of always having a nonchalant and cold facade, Fu Yao had the luxury to see some of the layers beneath the thick mask. "What's the use of apologizing if you're going to do it again?"

Fu Yao was not able to think of a respond. A cue for Xuan Zhen to stride towards the window, peaking out from the curtains mindlessly.

"He's there again." He spoke, amused. "Standing, staring at your name on the spiritual plaque of my official's names. Out of all the missions I have given you, this is what you have failed?"

"He trusts me, Xuan Zhen Jiangjun." Fu Yao argues weakly. "That's what you had ordered me and - and he trusts me more than what I had intended... I did not fail this mission, general."

"Still, you failed to maintain the trust." Xuan Zhen drops the curtain once the subordinate of Nan Yang breaths out a defeated sigh before walking away. "Why avoid him?" 

"It's not good for us to be... well, be together."

"I thought you're friends."

"... Not anymore." Fu Yao bites his tongue. Remembering that he is still speaking with a god and not just anyone. Remembering to speak to him politely and not lash out. "We're not friends anymore. Nan Feng has grown up, he could find more companions out there if not from the officials of Nan Yang Jiangjun himself."

"I heard many ladies began to court him." Fu Yao's breathing stops. "Not to court him exactly, though, there are those that had confessed and asks to be loved back. Ridiculous, isn't?"

"Y-yes..." Fu Yao stammers tediously. "Did - have Nan Feng answered to anyone?" He couldn't help but ask. Curious as he even stands up as if standing could make him hear better.

Xuan Zhen sweeps a glance over him.

"I hear he had answered Yu Wuin." 

━━━━

Yu Wuin was honestly the typical good boy. He's kind to everyone, makes everyone fall in love with him with his charms. He has this typical, average looking face. Not ugly, not that handsome. His smile wasn't the perfect smile, it's crooked and gives this boyish vibe on him.

His viridian coloured hair was a mess most of the time. Not the kind that would push off females away, the kind that would even lure them in. He's smart, he even has good sword skills.

He is under the palace of Ming Guang. He's not the head, though, he's one of the oldest.

It is not a surprise Nan Feng was charmed as well.

Though, Fu Yao could say he was not pleased.

Of all the people Nan Feng would have liked, it was Yu Wuin. The ninety-eight years old middle court official that thinks everyone likes him.

He had once approached Fu Yao. It did not end well for his eye.

Now, as his eyes follow the green haired man talk to his Nan Feng, Fu Yao refuses the urge to just go up there and punch him away for whatever reason he could not name.

It's just a sudden urge. An icky, sticky urge that refuses to budge no matter how much he pry it off.

Alas, he results in hiding once more. Close enough to eavesdrop but not close enough for his spiritual energy to be noticed.

He had realized Nan Feng takes after Nan Yang's speciality of tracking someone by their qi.

"You again." Nan Feng acknowledges, one sheathed sword in hand and another on his belt as though he was in the middle of fixing the two swords together. "May I help you?" 

"I've been struggling with something. Can you come with me?" Yu Wuin smiles, "I couldn't pick which sword I should take for a mission."

"Oh." Nan Feng frowns. "You can ask your palace's specialist?" 

"He's quite busy with our head subordinate as of the moment. And I'm in a hurry." Yu Wuin scratches the back of his neck, his pony-tail a bit crooked in a not so bad way. "Is it alright with you?" 

Nan Feng honestly looks like he'd rather hunt boars for hours to no end. Begrudingly, he forces a smile and nods.

Fu Yao would have smacked his head for saying yes.

"Thank you!" The disciple even has the audacity to grab Nan Feng's hand. Enthusiastically pulling him towards the palace of Ming Guang, and the head subordinate of Xuan Zhen follows stealthily behind. Making sure he's well hidden in the shadows and avoids unwanted eyes.

Fu Yao icks to slice that hand off. That hand that held Nan Feng's tightly as though they have some kind of relationship.

"You look like a creep, Fu Yao. What are you doing?"

He places two fingers on his temple. Responding quietly as his eyes graze over towards the silverette standing on the front of his palace that they passed. "Observing Nan Feng, general. Just like what you said."

"I thought you stopped?"

"There's no harm in continuing... right, general?" Fu Yao almost trips down in his haste. Cursing inside his head as he sees the two entering the palace.

"Did you just curse at me?" 

"... Pardon, my lord?"

"You just said fucking bitch."

"..." Fu Yao cuts off the connection in a blink. Pushing off the fear of receiving a punishment and a shit ton of scolding to the back of his head as he jumps on top of the palace. Concealing himself, and quickly following the familiar voice he had memorized throughout the years.

"There are many swords here. I know Nan Yang Jiangjun isn't one to deal with swords as many as these - but I assume you're still good with them." Yu Wuin opens the weaponry of the palace, to a complete outsider with no regards of what it might cause. "Just pick one for me. The mission states I'll be fighting a bunch of low ranked ghost."

"Any sword should be fine." Nan Feng says first, respectfully not entering the weaponry entirely as he results in just moving his eyes around. "Infused with spiritual energy." 

"I know, but look at these!" Yu Wuin gleefully removes three swords from the wall. One with a dragon hilt and a jade blade, another with a black, rough hilt with a red tassle hanging off its edge, the last having a black blade, the hilt pure white and slightly glowing.

Fu Yao arches a brow.

Nan Feng just blinks at it in perplexity. "What's so special about these?" 

"This one can kill a god." He lifts the jade sword first. "This one is indestructible." He lifts the one with the black hilt. Then puts the two down before lifting up the third. "This one... This one is purely made for one, lone god. It is made specifically to counter every specialty of that god, and to immediately surge poison in his body."

"Which god? Why does Ming Guang Jiangjun have a sword like this?" Nan Feng steps back warily, refusing to even take the sword despite the other thrusting it forward toward him. "Yu Wuin-" 

"It's a sword rumoured to be created by Xuan Zhen Jiangjun." Fu Yao's ears perks up. "To specifically kill Nan Yang Jiangjun." 

"Fuck off - what the fuck. General Xuan Zhen wouldn't do such thing!" Fu Yao was exceptionally pleased. "It's just a rumour anyway!" 

"Why are you defending him? Aren't you supposed to be happy I'm even making you aware of it?!" Yu Wuin pushes the sword in the latter's hands. "Xuan Zhen Jiangjun should have never been a god in the first place! He only brings trouble! And now you're troubled because your Fu Yao is not talking to you anymore!"

Fu Yao almost chokes out a laugh.

"Don't bring Fu Yao into this! He's got nothing to do with what you're trying to show me! And what if Xuan Zhen Jiangjun had created this sword?! Why is it in Ming Guang JiangJun's weaponry?!"

Nan Feng scowls deeply, dropping the sword carelessly on the ground with a loud clang as he steps back. There were no disciples or even a living soul they passed when they walked around the halls. He was aware the northern god himself was down in the mortal's realm for a mission as is with his own general.

This was some kind of trap.

"Xuan Zhen Jiangjun had asked my general to keep this sword. And if it is not for my own research, I would have never learned what this is for. That god is a schemer, and I'm sure Fu Yao is as well. It's good he had avoided-"

"Why are you telling me this now?" Nan Feng interjects, not even having the energy to glance down at the sword. "You have something up your sleeves." 

"If you could bring me general Nan Yang's bo-"

"No."

"Bow-" Yu Wuin ignores him. "And touch it with this, it would react aggressively because it's sensing the spiritual energy of its only target! His bow! Or even just his blade!"

"No. What the fuck kind of sick-"

"Xuan Zhen Jiangjun would be banished for a murder attempt. That gives your general the whole southern domain. More prayers! More land! More worshippers!" The disciple looks even more excited than the other with the idea. "Don't you want that?!" 

"Xuan Zhen Jiangjun is not a scheming god. He is not cunning nor would he plan absurdity to cause his rival's downfall." Nan Feng spoke, stern and deep as he shakes his head. "General Xuan Zhen would never try to kill general Nan Yang!"

Yu Wuin scoffs, picking back up the sword with a scowl of his own. "You're too young to know anything, Nan Feng. Haven't Fu Yao taught you anything about the animosity between your palaces?"

"He had taught me anything I need to know. You're a middle official of the northern deity, what do you know about the southern officials?" Fu Yao feels a bit proud Nan Feng was defending both the southern gods. "You know nothing about the two, don't speak to me as though you know how their rivalry works!"

"Oh please! Everyone can see they both hate each other!"

"And not everyone can see the care behind the hatred!" Nan Feng exclaims back, amidst the yelling, he had noticed a third party not far away from them. "You don't know anything about them!" 

"Why did I even bother with you?! You're as dumb as your general! As stupid and as weak! I don't even know how both those stupid gods ascended before my general could!"

Fu Yao could clearly see the younger was holding back from punching the man into oblivion. His fists already clenched and the anger was radiating off of him and out in the open.

He thinks of how to approach them. If to unconceal and just jump between them or walk in the entrance and pretend he's looking for someone or something and no one responded so he had entered.

He wasn't able to think for too long.

Nan Feng had punched Yu Wuin before he could blink.

━━༻••༺━━

"I come back from a mission to the news you fought with Ming Guang's subordinates? What happened to you?"

Nan Yang's voice wasn't even loud as it usually is when he's mad. His voice was even - evidently tired and just filled with devastating disappointment that Nan Feng would have rather the god yell at him for the heavens to hear."

The subordinate keeps his head lowered in shame. His bruised cheek beginning to swell even more as his knuckles bled. "This one apologizes for his recklessness and causing a mess inside general Ming Guang's palace. I humbly ask these martial gods to punish me."

Fu Yao watches once more from afar, biting the inside of his cheek as he looks at the two gods tower over the younger. His own general just observing them from a corner.

It was a set up trap. The other subordinates of Ming Guang was waiting to strike from their hiding places and took Nan Feng's punch as the cue. All of them ganged up on the younger despite being alone and helplesss, all while Yu Wuin was bargaining with him that he'll let it pass if Nan Feng steals the southeastern god's spiritual weapon to have evidence the sword was truly created just to kill him.

Fu Yao wasn't able to help.

There was an array surrounding the palace. Specifically to keep outsiders out, and perhaps one official of Ming Guang had snitched and caused a hole in the array for the other gods to hear the ruckus inside the palace.

Nan Yang looks at him then. A frown etched into his face as he glances at the northern deity in question. "I have no right this time as he fought with your officials in your palace"

"Was there a reason why?" Ming Guang asks, knowing full well only an idiot would enter a martial god's palace and ask for a fight with all the officials. "Who attacked first?" 

"I did, general." Nan Feng admits in guilt. "I hit Yu Wuin in the face." 

"Why?" 

Nan Feng does not elaborate any further. Nor does the northern officials even open their mouths to speak.

A sigh, Ming Guang puts a hand on his hip. "Your punishment could be banishment. Nan Yang would not want you be banished after treating you like his own, best to say the truth."

Nan Feng bites his lip, shaking his head and even stepping back. "I have no witness. I have no evidence. The truth is harsh, I believe you would not trust me."

"Nan Feng." Nan Yang calls, armor gone as it was slashed by the beast he fought as his hands bled, his spiritual bow disguised as a small blade just by his waist. "I trust you. So long as you just say the truth. There is no reason to lie."

Still, the head subordinate refuses to speak.

He's afraid, Fu Yao noticed. Not afraid to get punished or banished. The younger is afraid of something he could not name.

Looking around, Fu Yao takes a deep breath. And another for good measure.

Then leaves the shadows and out in the open with a raised hand. "Yu Wuin had provoked Nan Feng." 

Xuan Zhen's expression was indecipherable.

"Yu Wuin accused my general of creating a sword specifically to kill Nan Yang Jiangjun. And tried to force Nan Feng to take Nan Yang Jiangjun's bow to further prove his point." His throat feels dry, Nan Feng's eyes were wide and aghast as though he had seen something he shouldn't have. "I am a witness." 

"Sword?" Nan Yang glances at Xuan Zhen that shot him a glare. "What... What sword? Describe it." 

"A black blade, with pure white for a hilt. Embedded with a couple of words I was not able to decipher." Fu Yao sucks in a breath inconspicuously. "It's... It's from the weaponry in the palace of Ming Guang."

"A black blade created to kill Nan Yang..." Ming Guang trails off in confusion. "Isn't it the sword you gave me was also a black blade?" He turns to the southeastern god. "Xuan Zhen did not give me any swords before."

"Because you don't use a sword." Xuan Zhen comments from the corner with a scoff. Rolling his eyes as Fu Yao takes that chance to look at Nan Feng in the eye.

Nan Feng was close to crying.

Fu Yao quickly averts his gaze.

"Yu Wuin." Ming Guang calls earnestly. "Go get the sword Fu Yao is talking about." He demands, as the middle official does not waste any time in running off the hall. He then turns to Nan Feng. "Why didn't you say anything?" 

"Were you..." Nan Yang brushes a hand through his face. The slit on his cheek had stopped bleeding and dried, fortunately not smearing more red on his face. "Were you afraid we wouldn't believe you? Because what? Because you didn't have evidence?"

"That's literally what he said earlier." 

"Will you shut up?!" The southeastern god scowls at the silverette. "You basically have no reason to be here in the first place!"

Xuan Zhen nudges his chin toward Fu Yao with a sadistic smile. "I do now." 

Nan Yang was not able to comment more, as Yu Wuin enters with the sword gripped tightly in one hand. Sheathed in a dragon's skin. Red, sparkling ruby on the centre just where the hilt and sheath itself meet.

Ming Guang arches a brow. "That is a sword born from a battle's bloodbath. Raised above the thousands of dead bodies where Nan Yang had stood proudly, and lifted that very blade."

"That is not anything that Xuan Zhen created to kill Nan Yang. Where did that saying come from?" He takes the blade, giving it to the southeastern god that seemed to not even want to touch the sword.

Yu Wuin flushed. Head lowered and almost as though he was ready to fall to his knees. "A r-rumour that I... that I heard, general."

"And you believed it."

"The southern god's hatred and anger was evident out in the open. It's a rumour none can argue with as Xuan Zhen is a scheming-"

"He is not a scheming god." Fu Yao interjects, stepping close. "You've said that many times to Nan Feng in my fucking presence - you've got enough luck I wasn't able to enter the damn palace or else your nose is not the only one broken in your stupid, demonic fucking face. You piece of-"

Yu Wuin turns to him with a glare. "You're only saying that because he is your general-"

"Nan Feng is under general Nan Yang. My general's supposed to be rival and yet, he had still defended Xuan Zhen Jiangjun. You are a fool to think I'm saying this just because I'm serving him!"

"That's enough!" Ming Guang holds out a hand between them. Looking stressed and tired. "I would understand this more if it is Nan Feng arguing with Fu Yao, but Yu Wuin? You are from the north. What matters are in south that you need to even plot a plan against Xuan Zhen?"

"Nan Feng is deceived." Yu Wuin mutters. "Deceived by a Xuan Zhen official. I'm only trying to help him."

"By trying to make everything worse." The northern deity sighs tediously. "I have trusted you." 

Yu Wuin's face quickly falls.

"I have trusted you, but if I don't take these matters in my own hands, the emperor will. You are to be suspended for a hundred years for attempting to drag down a god." Ming Guang presses his hands together, just as the two southern gods did with their own. Glowing with spiritual energy, a shackle forms on one of Yu Wuin's wrist along with the couple of officials that's been involved.

Then they disappear.

Fu Yao stood surprised and baffled at the sudden occurence of event.

"As for you two." Ming Guang's eyes lands on the two other middle court officials then at the two gods. "I'll let your own generals handle you. This god shall take his own leave, my palace is still in a mess."

Nan Yang nods, patting his shoulder as Ming Guang walks out of the door unhurried and haste all the same.

Nan Feng's stance was still the same. Lowered head, hands clasped obediently behind his back, and seemingly contemplating his life decisions. As his general strides closer to him with a look of something akin to fond and amused. "You've been lured, there's no reason to keep looking guilty."

"I had caused you a mess just after you came back from a mission and did not have time to heal." Nan Feng responds quietly. "This one asks for punishment as well." 

"Hm." Nan Yang takes the sword he held, pulls out the middle official's own and places it there. "This sword... While what Ming Guang was said true, he was wrong for one thing."

"... What is it?"

"I was not the one standing on top of those bodies." Nan Yang uses his other hand to pull the sword from its sheath. The characters faintly engraved on the blade becoming more evident. "It was that bastard right behind me." 

The silverette snorts sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"What." The two head subordinates asks in unison. Fu Yao blinks repeatedly. "Then why...? Why is it that general Ming Guang said it was given to him by you?"

The southeastern god fully unsheaths the sword. Revealing Silver Sun on the blade itself. The characters having wide spaces in between it had reached the tip. "Mu Qing gave this sword to me the day I found Nan Feng. Eleven years ago, Mu Qing had ascended back to heaven all bloody and bruised. His robes were dripping with whoever's blood was, and it just so happens I had ascended a few seconds after him." He snorts, telling the story as though he was a father story-telling to his children.

"He took one good look at me and at the child in my hands, before promptly giving me the sword without even telling me why or the origin." The beautiful white hilt glows brightly, a stark contrast to its black blade. The god waves it mindlessly around. "I had to learn about it through Ling Wen."

"Why did you give it to general Ming Guang?" Nan Feng eyes the dragon's skin sheath. Uncertain what he should feel about it.

"Because he thought it was something from the ghost realm - he didn't trust me." Xuan Zhen says blankly, crossing his arms. "And he was taking care of a child, he did not want a sword born from a war inside his palace. Ironic because he's a god of fucking war."

"I was only thinking of Nan Feng at that time. Give me some damn credit. Atleast I gave it to Ming Guang." Nan Yang sheaths back the sword. "Regardless, it's yours now." 

"Mine?" Nan Feng blinks in surprise. "But - it's... -" 

"It's a good sword. I am aware." Nan Yang stretches, yawning as he waves a hand. "Go back to the palace and reflect on your actions or whatever." He pushes the younger before he could protest, as Fu Yao stands unsure on his spot.

He could go back in avoiding him.

That seems to be a better option.

But if he were to avoid him again, and this time, won't be able to see something akin to what happened earlier, he wouldn't be able to save Nan Feng from suspension or banishment.

"Follow him if you must." Xuan Zhen waves a hand dismissively. "I'll scold you later for cursing at me earlier."

Fu Yao runs before the general could change his mind.

That leaves only the two southern gods standing in the hall. Quiet, awkward, and uncertain.

It was Nan Yang that broke the silence first. His voice weak as though he truly has no energy to lend. "It wasn't because I didn't trust you. The sword... The sword reeks of blood and resent - Nan Feng was but a child that time, I didn't want him to grow up with a sword like that in display."

"Yet you chose to give it to Ming Guang instead of giving it back to me." Xuan Zhen's steps were floaty and stealthy. Striding toward the exit with no intention to linger any longer inside the hall. "I don't want to hear anything about trust."

"Mu Qing-"

"Goodbye, Feng Xin."

━━━━

Fu Yao lands behind a pavilion. Eyes following the black haired man closely. He looks to be in a daze, the sword he held attracting many eyes. Mostly coming from minor martial gods, and even their underlings.

"Gege." Arms snakes around his waist. Pulling his back flush against a familiar chest as his eyes widen in surprise. Staring at Nan Feng infront of him dispersing into dust. "Gege, you're here... you're here-" 

"Let me go." Fu Yao squirms angrily. Angry that he had been easily fooled by a damn clone. "Let me go, Nan Feng!" 

"If I let you go will you not leave me?" He hears the pout in his voice alone. The tightening of the embrace making him frantically look everywhere if ever they were seen. "You won't... You won't avoid me again, gege?"

A defeated sigh left the older's lips. "I won't, I won't. Let me go so we can talk better."

Reluctantly, the arms slowly disappears. Letting Fu Yao breath momentarily for composure before he turns to meet the hopeful gaze of the other.

This close after five years again, Fu Yao couldn't honestly believe he didn't need to lower his head to look at the other. Straight ahead and he's already looking directly at his eyes.

Nan Feng had grown so much.

Though, as he lowers his gaze. Landing on the latter's neck, he sees no blue marks. Nor was his face turning a horrible purple hue.

Fu Yao relocates his eyes toward the trees.

"I'm not going to apologize." He says first. Firm and decided. "I am not going to offer an explanation either."

"It's okay." Nan Feng smiles faintly, the bruised cheek now well and healed. "Just having you again is fine with me." 

"You answered to Yu Wuin in his confession." Fu Yao crosses his arms, arching a brow. "And you act as though you're very delighted to see me - if he had never done what he did now, you wouldn't even care about my avoidance at all."

"What are you talking about, gege?" Nan Feng genuinely looked confused, even tilting his head in a way Fu Yao knew as a sign of curiosity. "I never answered to anyone." 

"But-" Xuan Zhen would never lie. Unless, it was a plan for Fu Yao to do something the god wants him to do.

However, to do something as falsifying words when Fu Yao would've done anything Xuan Zhen would say - it must've been for something more.

"Gege? Gege, what's wrong?" Fu Yao frowns, shaking his head as if to clear his mind. "I never answered to Yu Wuin, gege. I don't like him that way - I don't like him in any way!"

"It's not that, you idiot." Fu Yao sighs indignantly. There was nothing more to do. Yu Wuin and atleast half of Ming Guang's officials are suspended, there's no point in further getting mad. "You should go back... like what general Nan Yang told you."

"You're going to avoid me again."

"No." 

"..."

Fu Yao sighs again, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to avoid you, I'm just telling you this now because there's a high chance your general will be looking for you." He says, already turning to leave and not letting the other seize him again by concealing himself.

"I promise you, everything will go back as it was before that event."

━━༻••༺━━

Everything seemed to change and be the same simultaneously. As though Nan Feng had changed but also did not.

He became less clingy, that's what Fu Yao had noticed first. No longer always asking to hold his hand, no longer just tugging on his sleeve.

He did, however, became smarter. His reflexes fast, he acts quick and thinks quick.

Although it was most likely not Fu Yao that had taught him, he still couldn't help but feel proud he had managed to grow up worthy to be a head disciple of a martial god's palace.

Nan Feng doesn't ask questions that much anymore. In fact, sometimes Fu Yao would even be the one clueless of something Nan Feng was very knowledgeable about.

Most of the times those occured, he wasn't sure what to feel about it.

The child had grown up. Fu Yao also wasn't sure what to feel about it either.

Now, years had passed. The southern gods was asked for a challenge to fight with an arrogant ghost king.

They knew better. Alas, albeit it would taint their image as gods of war, they refused the challenge.

The thirty-three gods, fortunately, did not.

It was a dark night. Ten thousand temples burning down to their very graves, and the news of Crimson Rain Sought Flower easily defeating both civil and martial gods spread throughout the three realms within a blink.

They dare not to provoke the man.

The southwestern deity had recognized those thirty-three gods as the gods that toyed with the crown prince of Xianle with ease. Thus, he was satisfied those were gotten rid of without having to lift a finger.

Nan Yang seemed to have realized it as well upon further investigation as to why the supreme ghost king specifically asked for them.

"General Nan Yang's in the mortal's realm." Nan Feng slumps on the divan, careful not to disturb the other in his own work. "And he had not given me any missions lately, do you think it's because of that occurence?"

"I don't know, and I don't wish to know." Fu Yao answers simply, rolling up the scroll as Nan Feng seemed to take that as an opportunity to move closer. "Our generals denied, I don't see why we have to involve ourselves in that massacre."

"Nan Yang Jiangjun seems to be very curious about it." The disciple hums, maneuvering his position until his head had layed on the other's lap. Fu Yao has half the mind to smack his face - he results in stroking his hair instead. "Is it the same with your general?" 

"General Xuan Zhen is not the same. It seems he's not even interested in it as much as Nan Yang Jiangjun is."

"It's a shame. We could play as spies." 

"Aren't we already?" Fu Yao arches a brow. Eyes casted downwards where he takes the chance to stare at the other's face once Nan Feng closed his eyes. "Our palaces are still considered rivals, yet here we are together acting as though it is not and sharing what our generals are doing, isn't that considered spying?"

"I don't know, gege." Nan Feng says sloppily, as though he was going in and out of sleep. As though heavenly officials needed sleep. "But... But I would - would be glad to share... any informations of the Nan Yang palace to... to my gege...-" His voice cuts off, seemingly already lured into slumber as Fu Yao does not bother resisting a smile.

"I can't say I could do the same." He whispers, caressing his cheek as he cradles his body in his arms. "Take as much needed rest, A'Feng. You're still young."

And he doesn't understand what he's feeling now.

━━━━

"Gege, can you believe it?" 

"What?" 

"I'm two hundred years old." 

Fu Yao blinks.

And blinks again.

"Happy... birthday?" 

Nan Feng promptly sits on his lap, unmindful of the scroll and ink brush falling onto the floor as he hugs the other subordinate in glee. "Happy birthday to me, gege." 

Humming, Fu Yao pulls out a small box from under his desk. "I wasn't sure what to get you. I've been busy as well, if this isn't what you wanted - I'm not taking it back."

"It's okay!" Nan Feng gives him a wide grin, taking the box and takes his time in opening it. "I'll love every gift you give me. It's a wish come true every time!"

Upon opening the lid, there lies a red and black, simple bracelet. A black ribbon for a base, twirled around it were multiple red crystals on a string. The biggest one connecting it together. The fabric he had used was stretchable, as he wasn't entirely sure the measurement of Nan Feng's hand and wrist was.

Truly, learning stitching from his general was useful.

"I made it myself." He says quietly, watching the other wear it ever so gently as though it was something so so precious. "You don't have to l-" 

"I love it." Nan Feng interjects happily. Pulling the man back into his arms, shoulders shaking as though he was trying his best not to cry. "I love it so much - thank you." 

Fu Yao pulls him closer.

"Anytime." 

━━━━

Fu Yao was beginning to feel something odd whenever Nan Feng's attention wasn't on him.

Something he could not put a name of - something uncomfortable churning inside his stomach whenever he sees Nan Feng smiling and laughing along with someone that wasn't him.

Even worse was when the officials of Nan Yang wasn't an exemption - in fact, it was worse if Nan Feng's talking to the officials of Nan Yang.

As though his insides dislikes the idea of those officials being able to live in the same roof as Nan Feng, or even just being able to wake up along with Nan Feng.

The fact those officials can see Nan Feng's bed hair, Fu Yao was disgusted.

Fu Yao wasn't sure if this was healthy. He had avoided this feeling, ignored it, and even pushed it to the back of his mind and never paying it any attention.

It's just that it's so uncomfortable it aches.

As though he had both a stomach and head ache stomping at his body whenever they're apart and Fu Yao sees him with someone else.

Though, most of the times, it was easy to forget about it. As Nan Feng is with him almost every minute of the day, there were just a few they needed to part for their own duties or just the days Nan Feng seems to like not being around him for a few li and cling to him like a koala the next.

A strange satisfaction always settles in his stomach whenever Nan Feng focuses his attention on him, and only him.

"Gege, can you help me with these?" 

Fu Yao happily takes the scrolls, nodding mutely as he resists the urge to release a sly grin. As Nan Feng sits infront of him, heedless of any people around them eyes stuck to the subordinate of Xuan Zhen.

And Fu Yao secretly enjoys it.

"Of course." 

━━༻••༺━━

"What are you sulking in the corner for now."

"I've... I've - I have... I have - No I haven't, atleast not yet and that's what I'm afraid of-"

"What exactly is that?"

Fu Yao shakes his head, resolute in facing the wall as he hugs his knees closer to his chest. Rocking back and forth as though it would comfort him from those horrible thoughts.

Those thoughts. Those awful feelings as if he owns Nan Feng. As if Nan Feng was his possession.

He'd been sitting quietly with Nan Feng in the mortal's realm on the sand. Just enjoying nature, enjoying the view, enjoying the sun with the ocean just in clear view.

And then he suddenly thought of kissing Nan Feng right there and then and he leaps back to heaven without any warning.

He began feeling sick of himself. Sick for thinking such repulsive things that he shouldn't. That he shouldn't even think of someone younger than him like that, much less Nan Feng out of all people

Sick for feeling and thinking that Nan Feng should only pay attention to him.

Xuan Zhen sighs, sitting on the divan just behind where the other cowers. "Fu Yao, is it something with Nan Feng again?

"No! General, why - why would you think that?" Fu Yao even lets out an awkward laugh, a futile attempt of disregarding his entire being. "It's not about Nan Feng, it's not about him at all!"

"You've been like this for only two times since you became my subordinate the last five hundred years." Xuan Zhen lolls his head back lazily, staring at the ceiling. "First, was the second day of Nan Feng being in heaven, you sat in the darkest part of this palace only for me to find out from my own observation that it was because Nan Feng addressed you as his gege."

Fu Yao hugs his knees tighter.

"The second, you buried yourself in work and papers that I should have been handling and won't leave this room unless necessary - that happened just after Nan Feng was almost strangled to death by the Green ghost Qi Rong. And avoided him for three years until that event with Yu Wuin." Xuan Zhen hums, glancing momentarily at his silent disciple. "I'm not one to assume, you avoided him because you thought it was your fault, huh?"

When he recieves no answer, Xuan Zhen snorts, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not going to say anything about that, seems like you've grown out of that guilt anyway."

Fu Yao almost says he didn't.

"Every time you sulk, it's always because of Nan Feng. Though, as you two are very close again now and no disaster happened - why is it that you're doing it again?"

Fu Yao would have just left if it wasn't disrespectful to the god. He resorts in sniffing instead, wiping his face with his palm to clear his mind before he turns and faces the other. Legs sprawled defeatedly as Xuan Zhen looks at him with the patience of a father.

"We were down in the mortal's realm." He explains first, voice frail and broken. "And... And Nan Feng held my hand..." He bites his lips, uncertain if he should continue as he began thinking of where to dig his grave.

"Then I... I thought of kissing him and it's awful, general! Awful I tell you! I don't know what possessed me to think of such ridiculous thing!" He cries helplessly, fisting his hair and tugging on it as though it could help. "I ascended in case I was poisoned or even cursed! But it just won't stop and I don't know anymore!"

Xuan Zhen had arched his brow at the first half of the middle official's explanation, and rolls his eyes in amusement at the other half. "So, you're sulking because you wanted to kiss him."

"I don't want to kiss him! I just thought about it, general." Fu Yao pulls his knees to his chest again, burying his face on it as he re-thinks his life decisions.

He was doing so well when Nan Feng wasn't even born yet.

Now, now he's having an internal crisis.

"He's young... He's still young, he's still four hundred years old." He says then. Never has he felt this helplessly confused and frustrated before.

"I shouldn't be thinking of him like this."

━━༻••༺━━

They were sitting on each corner of the room. One table on the right side, another on the left.

After the devastation the white calamity had caused, the southern officials were forced to share a palace for the meantime.

Atleast until half of the heavens was done, as they only managed to do the other half.

The head officials of both palaces managed to get their own office chambers together. Of course the gods themselves have separate everything - study rooms, bed chambers and literally everything.

The other officials had to share rooms, limited space for about a thousand of subordinates.

Still, even after all those events. All those chaos, Fu Yao couldn't help but think someone must've really put a curse on him.

A very, very bad curse now as he stares at the other head subordinate having trouble with the papers stacked on his table.

His own table was empty. As Xuan Zhen had already counted and memorized the merits and accounts, there was not much for him to do except for the handling and filtering out prayers.

"Nan Feng, do you need help?" 

He doesn't get a response. As Nan Feng lifts his hand to press two fingers on his temple, speaking with someone so casually and so open.

Fu Yao's eye twitches.

"Nan Feng." He calls again, much louder as eyes glance toward him in question.

"What is it, gege?" 

Standing up, he walks over to the man. Striding slow and calm, steps unhurried as Nan Feng blinks at him in confusion. "Need help? I could lend a hand or two." 

"Are you sure?" Nan Feng sweeps his gaze around the papers once more. "I don't want to trouble my gege." 

"You're not. It's a yes or no answer." 

"Yes, please."

Fu Yao walks behind the other to reach the other end of the table connected to the wall. It was wide, he'd have to bend and he doesn't feel like stretching his sore muscles yet.

Nan Feng resumes talking to someone in the array. Mumbling yes and no, saying maybe occasionally but already sseemingly like he'd rather cut off the array.

He wants to kiss him so bad.

So he does.

Instead of reaching forward to the table, he reaches for Nan Feng. Hooking a finger under his chin and tilting his head to face him.

A confused gaze quickly greets his own as Nan Feng slowly lowers his hand with a perplexed frown. "... Gege?" 

Fu Yao lowers his head. Leaning downwards until his lips lands on soft ones that although had reacted late, still has the time to move closer as if to deepen the kiss.

He pulls apart.

Clearing his throat as his hazy mind picks up half the stack of papers and strides back to his table casually with no words to spare or explain.

Nan Feng stares at him in surprise.

Nan Feng doesn't say anything.

━━━━

"Please punish this lowly one." 

"What did you eat now."

"I have done a grave mistake - a despicable sin. Please, I humbly ask this god to punish this one."

Mu Qing rubs his temples in distress. "What did you do? Stop kneeling on the damn floor. Get up." He commands, Fu Yao doesn't budge on his spot infront of his table. Head lowered down to the ground. "Fu Yao, speak." 

"I have comitted a sin."

"What sin?" 

"..."

Mu Qing sighs. "How am I supposed to know if I'm going to punish you or not?"

"Please." Fu Yao pleads quietly. "I ask of you to punish me. Banishment, suspension, cleaning or fixing the whole heavens, carrying something and standing in the center of this palace - anything."

"The weight of your punishment depends on how heavy the sin you committed was." Mu Qing leans on his chair, crossing his arms with yet another sigh. "Declare your sin or else get out of my damn office."

"I've..." Fu Yao hesitates. "I have done an obscene action to the head subordinate of Nan Yang."

"... You raped hi-"

"No! Goodness, no general!"

"Then what the fuck is it?!"

"I kissed him! I - I kissed him without consent and I..." Fu Yao almost cries on his spot. "I kissed Nan Feng, general" 

Mu Qing doesn't know whether to get mad or cry. "Shouldn't you be asking for a punishment from him? He's the one you kissed?"

"It's a sin. It's a mistake. Nan Feng is young." Fu Yao responds with a grim tone. Glaring at the floor as though it was its fault. "I'm... I'm a predator-" 

"Oh for fuck's sake he's seven hundred years old!"

"And I'm eight hundred!"

"He's centuries old-!"

"What's happening?"

Fu Yao's head snaps up, and as though he was relieved to see who it was, he maneuvers his position until he was kneeling for the southeastern god. Forehead pressed against the floor. "Forgive me, general Nan Yang!" 

Startled, Feng Xin arches a brow in question. "For what? What's happening?" 

His eyes softens upon seeing the entry of the god, Mu Qing clicks his tongue. "Fu Yao kissed Nan Feng and suddenly thought he's a predator."

Feng Xin furrows his brows. "A predator? Nan Feng is seven hundred years old - he's not a child?" Then his eyes widen. "They kissed?"

"Exactly." The silverette breaths out a sigh of exasperation, ignoring the third question. "He refuses to believe it." 

"I have practically raised him myself, generals." Fu Yao shuts his eyes. "He have clung to me ever since he's ten, and I fail to remove that idea of him in my mind."

"Ai, that's normal. You like him, it's fine." Feng Xin leans on the silverette's table, crossing his arms as well as Fu Yao straightens up on the floor. "I don't know how to help you get rid of such idea other than to say it's fine. Kissing and even having sex with him is fine-"

"He does not like me." Fu Yao interjects weakly. "I don't even know if I like him that way

"Why'd you kiss him?" 

"... I just - I just felt like doing it." 

Feng Xin glances at Mu Qing with a knowing look, earning a roll of eyes, the southeastern god returns his focus on the subordinate. "You just felt like kissing him. Okay, what else were you feeling? That's somehow connected to Nan Feng?"

Fu Yao thinks hard. Hard enough that the uncomfortable churn of his stomach says hello once more.

He sighs, sitting on his feet as his hands lays flat on his lap. "I... I feel something odd whenever Nan Feng is not with me." He says first, hesitant and scraping his mind for words. "I feel uncomfortable and mad whenever I see him with someone else, much more if he's enjoying their company."

"Oh, Fu Yao." Feng Xin shakes his head amusingly. Even smiling in a cheeky way as though he's trying his best not to laugh. "That's called being jealous. In fact, we're both very very knowledgeable about being jealous."

Mu Qing smacks the back of his neck with a scroll.

"How can I be jealous?" Fu Yao does not understand. Almost everything Nan Feng has, he already owns.

"Not that kind of jealous." Mu Qing spoke up with a snort. "It's more of the you wanting Nan Feng all for yourself."

"He's not..."

"Precisely."

Fu Yao blinks, even taking in a breath to process the information until it finally dawns on him.

He does not like Nan Feng.

He fucking loves him.

"This is bad." He says, horrified. "If Nan Feng finds out... he'll ignore me, avoid me even and... and-"

"Fu Yao, why do you think he's with you so often?" Feng Xin asks softly. "Hell, I don't even see that boy once a week before."

"Because I teach him?"

"No, you bumbling idiot. Because he likes you too." Mu Qing, already exhausted from having to fix his feelings and relationship with the god infront of him, gets even more exhausted from trying to fix his subordinate's. "Nan Feng probably had liked you since he was young. Just developed throughout the years."

There wasn't much to think about now. Fu Yao could honestly piece the puzzle together and the answer would still be the same. It makes sense now, everything, even the way Nan Feng would often look at him in a way he could put a name of now.

In a way Fu Yao probably does too.

"Should I tell him?" He asks, uncertain why the question was directed towards the god and not to himself. "Tell him I like him?" 

"You should." The gods say in understanding unison. "Don't... Don't wait any longer than necessary when you can tell him now. You don't know what's going to happen tomorrow."

Truly, the gods have spoken for themselves. They've experienced many disasters as gods, they never know what's happening and what's going to happen.

One of the reasons that pushed them to confess after Mt. Tonglu.

They'll never know if they suddenly lose each other the next day.

"Okay." Fu Yao says, finality in his tone as he nods more to himself. "I'll... I'll confess-" 

"Okay, good. He's a bad liar anyway." Feng Xin stretches his neck. "Nan Feng, you can come in now."

Fu Yao feels his heart beat uncontrollably.

"Gege, I love you too!" The door slams open, Fu Yao gets tackled to the ground. Sliding on it until his head barely avoids hitting the wall as Nan Feng cries on top of him. "I love you I love you I love you-!" 

"Let me go - wait-" Fu Yao blinks, trying to adjust to the sudden weight as Nan Feng's tears drop relentlessly on his face. "Stop crying, why are you crying? Stop being a child, goodness A'Feng!"

"I'm s-sorry, gege. I'm just so happy-" Nan Feng sits up, sniffing and sobbing as he lets Fu Yao finally take a breather. "I'm sorry - I'm sorry I love you I love you I'm sorry-"

"You're rambling." Fu Yao pulls him onto his lap, carrying the man as though he was once again a child and cradles his face. Smiling so widely even the soreness of his cheeks did not hinder him. "I love you too. I'm sorry I only realized about it now."

"It's okay." Nan Feng breaths, breath fast and slowly calming down as he hugs him tighter. "It's okay. I still love you. I'd wait longer until you're ready if you did not realize it now."

Relief, was what Fu Yao had felt first. Loved the second, and the feeling of having Nan Feng by himself.

He would deny he's quite possessive to his grave.

"I love you too." He smiles, as Nan Feng presses their foreheads together. "I love you." 

"Can I kiss you, gege?" Nan Feng traces a finger by his lower lip and Fu Yao nods too eagerly.

"NO KISSING IN MY DAMN OFFICE!" 

"WE WERE GETTING TO THE GOOD PART!" 

"NO!"

The middle officials chuckle, Nan Feng lowers his head to rest on his shoulder instead.

"Let's kiss later." 

━━༻••༺━━

"I've fallen to a trap!" Nan Feng screams in horror. Trying to get away from the grasp. "Trap! I'm trapped!" 

The blankets around them further prevented him from moving. The arms around his waist making it difficult to even leave the bed as a low mumble was heard from the covers. "Mine." Fu Yao says.

Nan Feng shivers, gripping the sheets to pull himself off only to get pinned down harder. "Yes! I know I'm yours, gege, but-" 

"Mine." 

The head subordinate was not able to do anything but to sit on the bed. Resolutely refusing to pay any attention on how both of them were stark naked and he almost cries. "I asked for one kiss and this! This is what I get! I'm CAGED!"

Fu Yao laughs. Low and bright as he places a tender kiss on his shoulder..

Finally, "Mine."