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"It's an ambush!"
Di Feisheng glanced sideways at Li Xiangyi as the cry went up amongst the host of Sigu Sect and Tianji Manor disciples. They were sitting crosslegged in a carriage, the palms of both hands pressed flush, the contact a conduit for their pooled internal energies to circulate between them.
"Your Sigu scouts sure are shit."
Li Xiangyi shrugged. "Blame Xiao Zijin, not me."
"If this attack ruins our plans, I will tear him to pieces."
"Ah, but you would never let that happen, would you?" said Li Xiangyi with a sardonic grin.
Di Feisheng smirked back at him, as if he needed to be baited into battle, into protecting the little strike force they had hastily assembled to rescue Princess Zhaoling and Minister Fang. He felt the same itch that Li Xiangyi did now that the entirety of Shan Gudao's plans had been laid bare. Di Feisheng couldn't care less about dynasty, but what he did care about was what Shan Gudao had destroyed—the truce between Sigu and Jinyuan, and everything else that should have been. Shan Gudao had turned them against each other, stolen the years that Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi could have spent building a better, more equitable Jianghu together, could have spent sparring, trysting, and loving each other.
Di Feisheng would never resent Li Xiangyi for his wrath at the Eastern Sea. He was glad that their relationship was now mended, but there was too much that Shan Gudao had to answer for. Di Feisheng abhorred betrayal, and Shan Gudao's manipulation of the both of them through Sigu Sect and Jinyuan Alliance was the deepest treachery, worse even than the misplaced, twisted treasons of Jiao Liqiao. Shan Gudao deserved more than death, and he was about to receive the kind of retribution that only Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng—united in mind, spirit and purpose—could wreak.
Li Xiangyi withdrew his energies, but not before Di Feisheng sent a wave of Bitterwind Poplar across. Their hands pulled apart, and they each had to quell their qi as the rebound of their sudden separation sent ripples through their energies.
"A-Fei," Li Xiangyi admonished with a frown. "You're freshly healed from your injuries. You don't have to give me so much."
"How I use my internal energy is my own business," Di Feisheng replied coolly.
"Ay, if I don't get a say in how my newly wedded husband uses his qi, then when will I?" lamented Li Xiangyi theatrically.
"We'll argue about it when I find the Wangchuan Flower for you," Di Feisheng promised.
Li Xiangyi snorted.
The commotion outside—the clash of metal and heated cries—grew louder. It took but a look between them to agree what to do. They grabbed their swords and burst out of the carriage with such force that a handful of the Wansheng vanguard who had broken through the line of Sigu and Tianji defenders went flying. Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi landed lightly on their feet, side by side.
"Took you two long enough!" The shout came from Fang Duobing, who was at the rear of their caravan, fighting off enemies and trying to rally Tianji Manor for a counterattack.
They were surrounded by an overwhelming force of the Wansheng Clan—Di Feisheng guessed they were outnumbered by more than five to one. The disciples wielding swords were backed up by a row of archers, and led by a grizzled commander who looked like he had more years under his belt than Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi combined.
"Thunderbolt Mace Han Shiguan," Di Feisheng murmured, the man’s name bubbling up from the depths of his memory.
「霹靂錘翰時關」
Li Xiangyi’s brows knit. "That name sounds familiar."
"I sentenced him to death twelve years ago for human trafficking."
"Ah, now I remember,” said Li Xiangyi. “He looks pretty alive to me, though. Seems like your Jinyuan Alliance needs to find better executioners."
"I should have done the job myself," Di Feisheng said darkly, irate that the enemy commander was living proof of how much Shan Gudao had meddled in the internal affairs of Jinyuan Alliance, even back then.
He met Han Shiguan's gaze through the rows of Wansheng infantry standing between them. The man sneered in return, as if to say that he would enjoy massacring his master's enemies. Han Shiguan raised his weapon, a massive spiked mace as wide as the length of a man’s arm, mounted on the end of a polearm. The nearest Wansheng Clan disciples gave a shout, and charged toward them, while the archers behind them notched their arrows.
"He's mine," Di Feisheng said, glaring balefully at the Thunderbolt Mace.
"He's ours," Li Xiangyi corrected.
"Then let's see who gets to him first."
They drew their swords and leapt, Di Feisheng forward and Li Xiangyi to the side, arrows whistling to the ground where they had stood just moments before. Two swords thrust toward Di Feisheng, their points glinting in the sun. He parried them easily, sending his energies through the inside edge of his dao and snapping both blades. He finished them off with a single slash that cut deep into their throats, and whirled to face the next assailant.
Bitterwind Poplar sang within him as he fought, a gale screaming for release, flooding his meridians with the power of a squall. He sent a wave of it out before him, and it knocked the five men charging toward him off their feet. They flew back some distance before landing on their backs, bones cracked, internal organs crushed.
Di Feisheng's Bitterwind Poplar gathered once more, its strength fed from an endless and indomitable sea of qi within him—a sea that was named Yangzhouman. Li Xiangyi had given him a little of it and taught him four lines of its mantra in their wedding chamber. When his Bitterwind Poplar had struggled and failed to repair his meridians he should have died, but the warmth of Li Xiangyi’s Yangzhouman had filled him instead. It was a swell as powerful as an ocean tide, smoothing in the jagged and sharp edges of Bitterwind Poplar that made it such a dangerous and difficult energy to control. Yangzhouman had pushed Bitterwind Poplar to its eighth and final level, had made it stronger and more enduring, had tempered its wild and rebellious spirit, and in doing so had also become its source. The two energies were now linked inextricably within him, intertwined in balanced harmony, piercing ferocity and unyielding persistence melded into one glorious whole.
He heard the sharp, keening vibrations of a sword behind him, and turned just in time to see the Shaoshi Jian pierce the throat of a foe attempting to sneak up on him. For a moment, he was left breathless—there was a color in his husband's cheeks and a fire in his eyes that Di Feisheng had not seen for years. Li Xiangyi was here, fighting beside him, facing their enemy together.
Li Xiangyi was suffused with Yangzhouman, and beneath that steady, majestic energy there lurked danger and fury, Bitterwind Poplar filling the void where Li Xiangyi's inner energies had shrunk due to the insidious Bicha poison. Di Feisheng had given him a portion of his internal energy, but there was also a breath of Li Xiangyi's own Bitterwind Poplar there. He had begun to teach it to Li Xiangyi too, they had been cultivating it together when they'd come under attack.
Di Feisheng spared an extra second to regard his husband—the grim set of his jaw, his eyes glittering with unwavering determination. He was radiant, with Yangzhouman and Bitterwind Poplar pulsing within him, with blood dripping down the Shaoshi Jian in his hand. Di Feisheng ached to cross swords with him, to grab him by the waist and kiss him, but he could do neither when they were hemmed in like this. There would be ample time for both in the future, he promised himself.
He shot Li Xiangyi a short smile, one of thanks, but also one that pledged to repay the favor tenfold. Li Xiangyi returned it, gaze bright, softening only when their eyes met. Facing down overwhelming odds, there was no other place Di Feisheng would rather be than at Li Xiangyi's side, their swords drawn, their internal energies ringing, the marriage of Bitterwind Poplar and Yangzhouman joining them closer than any other union could.
No words were necessary between them as they advanced, never more than a few steps apart, jian and dao slashing, thrusting, sweeping around them, felling whichever enemies were brave or foolish enough to throw themselves in their path. Di Feisheng knew all of Li Xiangyi's weaknesses, knew where and when his attacks left him exposed. He stayed close, light in his feet, pivoting his weight easily when he spotted the flash of a blade that found an opening in Li Xiangyi's defenses. Di Feisheng turned it aside, exchanging a couple of quick blows before his dao opened the enemy's belly.
A nod from Li Xiangyi was all the acknowledgement he received, but it was enough. Li Xiangyi knew his fighting style too, knew when to cover his back, when to drop low with a slice across the knees when Di Feisheng released a burst of Bitterwind Poplar. The Shaoshi Jian moved so quickly it hummed, as Li Xiangyi's footwork helped them carve their way through the enemy assault.
There was a momentary lull after they had dispatched the first wave of enemies. A circle of carnage was arrayed around them, fallen Wansheng disciples littering the ground. The distant shouts filtrering through the trees meant the battle was still raging elsewhere, the rest of Tianji Manor and Sigu Sect behind them still putting up a fight. They'd brought only a handful of forces with them—they couldn't afford to lose too many.
The second wave of Wansheng disciples hesitated, trembling as they saw the quick work that had been made of their comrades. Their faces were tense and pale, but they had been well trained and held their ground despite their fear. Di Feisheng ignored them for the moment, taking the opportunity to turn to his husband.
"You're not hurt?" he asked. He swung his dao downward, the motion sweeping the blood off his blade.
"I'm not, thanks to you."
"Don't thank me so fast, I want that rematch of ours even more now."
Li Xiangyi rolled his eyes, but his fond smile didn't fade. They silently agreed to drop the issue for now, and turned back to face their enemy.
Han Shiguan was still standing behind two lines of his men, blazing rage as he glowered fearsomely at them. He was a tall man, broad shouldered, and still well muscled for his age. His beard was thick and rich, falling halfway down his chest, more white than black. He was outfitted in armor as if he were geared for war, and not just leading a small Jianghu skirmish between sects. Dressed like that and with these numbers, Di Feisheng gathered that Shan Gudao had sent Han Shiguan to wipe them out, to ensure that none in their company reached the capital.
"Sigu Sect Leader Li Xiangyi! Jinyuan Alliance Chief Di Feisheng!" Han Shiguan bellowed, his voice powerful and resonant, carried to their ears across the distance between them by a deep well of internal energy. "The rumors are true that you both yet live, and I see you have formed an alliance."
"Word seems to get around fast," Li Xiangyi called back, with an insouciant shrug.
"It is a pity that you will die here."
"Shan Gudao has gravely overestimated your abilities if he thinks you can match even one of us," said Li Xiangyi.
"Unlike you, I haven't spent the last ten years idle," Han Shiguan boomed. "Come and try me, both of you."
Di Feisheng took a step forward.
"A-Fei."
Di Feisheng paused. He turned, shooting Li Xiangyi a glance that said he'd better have a good reason for stopping him.
"He's baiting us. If we fight him together, the rest of the Wansheng Clan will attack our forces."
Di Feisheng's frown deepened. He knew that.
"You engage him," Li Xiangyi continued. "You two have an old score to settle. I'll take care of the rest, make sure we don't take further losses."
Di Feisheng counted about twenty enemies that Li Xiangyi would have to handle himself. They were older disciples too, stronger, smarter, wiser than the ones they'd just felled, and amongst them there were a few archers left too. In the old days, those numbers wouldn't have fazed Li Xiangyi and his Xiangyi Taijian, but his internal energies were no longer what they once had been—Di Feisheng knew that better than anyone. He knew what immense power the Xiangyi Taijian took. Li Xiangyi would have to focus his qi, force its circulation to at least thrice its usual speed in order to move so quickly. Di Feisheng didn't want to leave him, didn't want to think about what would happen if the Xiangyi Taijian burned through his energy reserves too quickly, what it would end up consuming instead. On top of that, Li Xiangyi needed to save his strength for the confrontation with Shan Gudao.
"A-Fei," Li Xiangyi said quietly, but firmly, as Di Feisheng continued to hesitate. "Trust me."
Di Feisheng shot him a warning glare. If you die here, I will kill you.
One corner of Li Xiangyi's mouth quirked upward. I know.
"Finish them off quickly and then join me," Di Feisheng said aloud.
He turned back to Han Shiguan, standing behind enemy lines, and kicked off the ground, one leap taking him over the heads of the Wansheng. Li Xiangyi moved at the same time he did, the Shaoshi Jian a blur in his hands as he struck deep into enemy ranks. The archers taking aim at Di Feisheng scattered like leaves before a tempest, and that let him land unimpeded in front of the Thunderbolt Mace.
He struck first with a focused wave of Bitterwind Poplar from his palm that cracked through the air like a whip. Han Shiguan blocked the blow with his weapon, the force sending him sliding backward quite some distance before he was able to regain his balance by thrusting the butt of his polearm into the ground.
"Impressive power, for a man whose martial arts were destroyed so recently."
Di Feisheng smirked coldly. If Han Shiguan's jibe was meant to provoke him, it wasn't going to work. He was already furious.
Twelve years ago, Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi, on their month of travels, had run across Han Shiguan's human trafficking operation. Whilst sheltering from a rainstorm inside an abandoned temple, the two of them had overheard Han Shiguan's henchmen discuss their enterprise—snatching children from peasant villages, selling the girls to brothels and the boys to Di Fortress. Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi had slain the three henchmen on the spot, but not before Di Feisheng had forced their master's name from their lips. Only then had he discovered that they were a part of Jinyuan Alliance. Han Shiguan's subordinates had been transporting five children, so Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi had personally escorted them back home into the arms of their weeping parents. After that incident, they'd been forced to part ways.
There hadn't been a day during his ten year seclusion that Di Feisheng hadn't thought of his time traveling side by side with Li Xiangyi, wishing that that the weeks they'd spent together—dueling every day to see who was the stronger, sharing adventures and weathering hardships in equal measure—hadn't had to end. He'd often wondered if things would have turned out differently if they'd stayed together longer, if he hadn't had to go back to Jinyuan Alliance and pull out Han Shiguan's nascent operation by the roots. What Han Shiguan had done, what he'd planned to do, went against everything that Jinyuan Alliance stood for, was everything that Di Feisheng personally loathed. He didn't regret having to leave Li Xiangyi to end it, but now he did have regrets not seeing through its final closure himself.
Han Shiguan grinned, hefting his mace in both hands. "Would it please you to know that after I was rescued by Leader Shan, I continued—"
Di Feisheng didn't let him finish speaking. He unleashed both Yangzhouman and Bitterwind Poplar as he rushed toward Han Shiguan. He turned on one foot, rotating his body, his dao whirling downward toward the Thunderbolt Mace's head. His blow was deflected by the polearm, which seemed to be made of a hard alloy that was barely damaged despite Di Feisheng's power. He turned the dao back around for another slash. It was blocked once more, but forced Han Shiguan to retreat two steps. Di Feisheng followed up with a focused palm strike, but Han Shiguan sidestepped, and the fury of Bitterwind Poplar sailed through the air, snapping the trunks of several of the nearest trees where Han Shiguan had been a moment before.
Out of the corner of his eye, Di Feisheng spotted the glint of the mace head, and he slid out of the way at the very last moment. Han Shiguan's weapon crashed into the ground, half of its spikes buried in the dirt. The weight of that weapon and the force of that blow would have hewn an ordinary man in two, but it gave Di Feisheng the opening he needed. He summoned his energies, Yangzhouman giving him speed, Bitterwind Poplar giving him power. Han Shiguan saw him move and let go of his mace, bringing his palm up, his own qi blazing, to meet Di Feisheng's strike.
Their palms met with the force of a thunderclap, the ensuing shockwave large enough it shook the trees and seemed to rumble the very earth. Han Shiguan staggered back another few steps, while Di Feisheng managed to hold his ground. Bitterwind Poplar and Yangzhouman howled within him, the contact with Han Shiguan's qi reverberating with strange dissonance throughout his own energies.
Di Feisheng's eyes widened as he recognized the qi that Han Shiguan met him with. Di Feisheng had some of it himself—it was Yangzhouman, corrupted by hatred and vengeance, but Yangzhouman all the same. Shan Gudao must have taught it to him.
Li Xiangyi would be incensed. Shan Gudao had no right to pass it onwards, and not to someone as base and despicable as the Thunderbolt Mace. That was why he was so much stronger than Di Feisheng had remembered, years of cultivating and practicing Yangzhouman.
"I told you, Di-mengzhu,” Han Shiguan sneered. “I haven't been idle these past ten years,".
"You just gave Li Xiangyi a reason to kill you too," said Di Feisheng calmly. "Even if you think you can beat one of us, there's no way you believe you can beat us both."
"A dying man on his last legs and one who spent weeks imprisoned in a woman's bedroom?" Han Shiguan scoffed. "There is nothing to fear about either of you!"
Rather than waste further words, Di Feisheng dashed in again for the attack. Unencumbered by the weight of the mace, Han Shiguan matched his speed, striking out with another palm attack. They met in a flurry. Han Shiguan dodged a vicious sweep of his dao, and shoved his palm forward, targeting Di Feisheng's side where he was open. Malevolent energies emanated from his hand, and Di Feisheng had to take two steps to the side to avoid it. He brought his dao up to block another of Han Shiguan's strikes, this a fist. Di Feisheng had to summon his own Yangzhouman to reinforce his sword as the Thunderbolt Mace's knuckles made contact with the flat of his blade. The blast of qi reverberated along its length and into its hilt, sending a jolt through Di Feisheng's newly reconnected tendons and rattling the bones in his arm as he took a step back.
He tightened his grip on his dao, shoving aside the pain, still moving through it, unable to afford a moment's rest as Han Shiguan pressed his advantage. He struck with a low feint, a kick to the shins Di Feisheng had to take a step to avoid, while his other hand came out of the corner of Di Feisheng's eye, the edge of his palm coming into sharp focus. Di Feisheng leaned back, the tips of Han Shiguan's fingers passing so close they stirred strands of his hair. He had no choice but to meet Han Shiguan's next strike head on, palm against palm.
They met again, the air splitting in a peal of thunder, this time a contest of energies to see who was the strongest. Their hands remained pressed together, Bitterwind Poplar surging forward, whipping up a whirlwind, fed by the rough seas of Yangzhouman. The Thunderbolt Mace's power rushed forward too, his energies a black oppressive cloud, heavy and smothering, like thick smoke spewing from a blazing inferno.
Ancient pines atop craggy peaks
Weather wind, rain, and fire
Root deep into earth and stone
Reach past clouds to clear blue
Di Feisheng heard his husband's voice in his ear, Li Xiangyi using his qi to project his words. It took him a second to parse the meaning of the words—it was more of Yangzhouman, another method of circulation. If he spread it through his Yinyang Qiaowei meridians, he could ground it, and in turn it would serve as an anchor for Bitterwind Poplar, let it strike out with even more force. Di Feisheng did exactly as instructed, and found that Bitterwind Poplar suddenly transformed, a cracking whip morphing into a crashing tide. Han Shiguan sprang away just before Di Feisheng overwhelmed him, taking the opportunity to retrieve his mace.
He had to raise it in a block immediately, as a flurry of lightly dyed robes came spinning at him. The point of the Shaoshi Jian met the head of Han Shiguan's mace, with a clang of metal on metal. They were suspended for a moment before Li Xiangyi's explosive power jettisoned him backward.
Li Xiangyi landed gracefully on the rebound, whirling until he came to a stop beside Di Feisheng.
"I didn't think this guy was going to be a problem for you," remarked Li Xiangyi.
Di Feisheng's expression darkened. "He's gotten much stronger," he admitted grumpily. He tossed a look back toward the commotion behind them. "What about the rest of the ambush?"
"Fang Duobing has taken charge, so it should be over soon."
Di Feisheng was about to make a sarcastic remark about how they ought to be worried if a child had been left in command of both Sigu Sect and Tianji Manor, but he held his tongue. Li Xiangyi and Fang Duobing did not have the usual master-disciple bond, but the young man had learned and grown admirably in the course of their adventures. Fang Duobing would rival them in power someday, and that day was coming soon. Di Feisheng decided he would let his husband be proud of the good disciple he had taken under his wing.
"We can't let Fang Duobing finish his battle before we finish ours," he said instead.
"No," Li Xiangyi agreed. "Can't let that kid catch up to us quite yet."
Di Feisheng's heart hammered with the anticipation of joining the battle once more with Li Xiangyi beside him. At the edge of the trees, a short distance away, Han Shiguan was hauling himself to his feet.
"He knows Yangzhouman," Di Feisheng warned. "Shan Gudao must have taught him."
The smile on Li Xiangyi's face faded, and his expression turned grave. "I know. I felt it." He fell silent, his fists tightening, his jaw clenching. Shan Gudao's betrayal, the depth of his hatred, the unnecessary and tragic deaths on his hands, all wounded Li Xiangyi deeply.
Di Feisheng took a step closer to his husband. If they'd been alone, he would have reached out, given some reassurance, but the enemy was nearby and he had to be on his guard. Han Shiguan was raising his mace, he would launch a renewed attack soon.
It took a few more seconds before Li Xiangyi relaxed enough to manage a deep breath. "A-Fei." When he spoke, his voice was steely and determined. "Let's end this quickly."
"Fine by me."
"Xiangyi Taijian's final form requires a partner. Do you remember it?"
Of course Di Feisheng remembered. "I'm the one who came up with the idea."
The need for a partner to complete the Xiangyi Taijian had grown from their many sparring matches. Di Feisheng had become familiar with its movements and the many variations and improvisations Li Xiangyi was prone to adding. He had spotted a weakness in the Xiangyi Taijian—it was particularly susceptible to attacks from above—and had told Li Xiangyi this, as well as what he could do to reinforce his form, but it was difficult to fully execute without the aid of another. They'd practiced it a few times, but had spent more time fooling around and sparring than seriously applying themselves. After all, there had been no one else in the wide martial world who had successfully countered the Xiangyi Taijian, save for Di Feisheng. So they'd never perfected the final form, maybe because they'd always thought they would get around to it later, or maybe because Li Xiangyi had been too foolish and thick back then to understand what Di Feisheng's suggestion had really meant to symbolize.
Di Feisheng turned to regard his husband, and Li Xiangyi looked right back at him. It had taken more than ten years, but Li Xiangyi had finally understood. They each knew what they needed to do and how to do it.
A shadow fell over them, Han Shiguan leaping across the distance, weapon raised above his head for a colossal strike. Li Xiangyi and Di Feisheng sprang out to opposite sides, just in time for Han Shiguan's mace to sail through thin air. The ground exploded where it fell, clods of earth and chunks of stone flung high and wide from the power that Han Shiguan had put into his swing. Di Feisheng twisted as he landed, several quick cuts with his dao deflecting the debris which had been hurled in his direction. He shot a concerned glance to where Li Xiangyi had landed, but the swift scintillation of the Shaoshi Jian had already warded off the attack. Li Xiangyi was a blur, closing in Han Shiguan for a counterattack, unleashing the full force of Xiangyi Taijian, the Bitterwind Poplar that he had learned lending his attacks an unbridled ferocity that Di Feisheng admired.
He followed a few steps behind. Bitterwind Poplar was not made for speed, but there was enough of Di Feisheng's own Yangzhouman that he could keep up with the Xiangyi Taijian, mirroring Li Xiangyi's movements on Han Shiguan's opposite side. They clashed with Han Shiguan in a flurry of metal, striking once and then changing direction to hit from somewhere new, always keeping his attention divided, moving quickly enough he must feel as if surrounded, their attacks unrelenting, coming from all sides.
Some strikes glanced off Han Shiguan's mace, some off his armor, but others found their purchase in the joints between. The weapon whirled with alarming alacrity for something so heavy, but Di Feisheng noticed that it was slowing, their barrage taking its intended toll. Han Shiguan swung around once more, the mace arcing across their swords, his energies gathering at the same time.
Di Feisheng and Li Xiangyi jumped back, their retreat buying them a moment to regroup. Di Feisheng braced his dao across his body, and Li Xiangyi understood what he was supposed to do with just a glance. He sprang up, and kicked off from the flat of Di Feisheng's blade. Di Feisheng gave his husband a push, and Li Xiangyi flew forward, the point of the Shaoshi Jian aimed for Han Shiguan. Di Feisheng followed, summoning the vast well of his inner energies.
The point of the Shaoshi Jian met Han Shiguan's mace once more, and this time the mace shattered under the onslaught, exploding into a constellation of shards. The Shaoshi Jian's trajectory continued, the force behind Li Xiangyi's leap still carrying him forward as his strike split Han Shiguan's armor and pierced his chest. The Thunderbolt Mace slid backward, wrapping his hands around the blade buried in him, but unable to remove it as Li Xiangyi pressed with all his might.
They stopped abruptly as Han Shiguan's back hit the trunk of a tree, and the Shaoshi Jian sunk in deeper. Blood exploded from Han Shiguan's mouth, his lungs pierced, but he struck out with a palm, unwilling to go down without taking at least one of them with him. Li Xiangyi twisted out of the way, and then there was nothing left standing between Di Feisheng and Han Shiguan. Di Feisheng pushed easily past the blast of inner energy that the Thunderbolt Mace released, his act of final defiance, his loyalty to Shan Gudao a pitiful resistance against the combined wrath of Bitterwind Poplar and Yangzhouman.
Di Feisheng's palm made contact with Han Shiguan's for but a moment, discharging a blast of inner energy so powerful it forced its way through his body unimpeded, disintegrating meridians, destroying internal organs. Di Feisheng sidestepped as another wave of blood bubbled out of Han Shiguan's mouth.
"Shan Gudao…will never… let you…"
Di Feisheng turned away and sheathed his dao, the man's final words a meaningless threat he didn't care to hear the rest of. He strode to his husband's side, but Li Xiangyi lifted a preemptive hand.
"I'm all right."
Di Feisheng grabbed his wrist anyway, placing firm fingers over Li Xiangyi's pulse. His husband had lost some internal energy, but not as much as he had feared. Bitterwind Poplar was encircling Yangzhouman, protecting it, keeping it from being drained too quickly. Li Xiangyi had been telling the truth, he was all right, for now.
"You're such a worrier, A-Fei," Li Xiangyi said, his tone fond, his smile returning now that their enemy had been defeated.
"And you're reckless and prone to pushing yourself beyond your limits."
"As if you're not."
"I'm not the poisoned one," Di Feisheng retorted. "If you want me to stop pestering you, then promise you'll take the Wangchuan Flower when I find it and restore your energies."
Li Xiangyi groaned. "The more you harp on about the Wangchuan Flower the less I want it, you know."
Di Feisheng growled in frustration. Li Xiangyi smirked in response, seemingly enjoying how easy it was to tease him. Di Feisheng's frown deepened until Li Xiangyi took the opportunity to press a short kiss to his lips.
Before Di Feisheng could reel him in, Li Xiangyi stepped away. His cheeks were still flush with color from their exertions. He looked for all the world like he wasn't on the brink of death, like there might be some hope after all, if not for his restoration, then for time, for the many decades of it that Di Feisheng selfishly wanted for himself, for them. Together.
"Come," Li Xiangyi slipped his fingers into Di Feisheng's hand, as easily as if it were something he'd always done, and gave him a tug. "Let us see how the rest of them have been getting along."
The sounds of battle had died down amongst their forces, and off in the distance, Di Feisheng could see a handful of Wansheng survivors fleeing into the woods. He didn't like to leave business unfinished, but they were pressed for time and didn't have the luxury of pursuit. The Wansheng Clan had just wasted the majority of their men here, the attempt to stop them from reaching the capital an utter failure. Their little strike force would arrive tomorrow, and the fight would begin in earnest.
Di Feisheng let Li Xiangyi lead him back to everyone else, never more than a few steps away. Even when Li Xiangyi's hand slipped from his, Di Feisheng found he didn't mind the way that everyone's expressions brightened when they spotted him in his husband's wake.