Work Text:
At first, Mu Qing does not realize that something is wrong.
He’s just finished dealing with a Savage level ghost that’s been terrorizing the worshippers in his territory, his saber heavy in his hand. There are a few drops of sweat trailing down his face—shameful, really, considering he’s taken care of similar problems thousands of times before.
A strand of hair is sticking to his forehead and partly obscuring his vision. Annoyed, he uses his free hand to tuck it behind his ear. Mu Qing’s hair is something he cares about deeply—his ponytail must always be impeccable. He carefully brushes and ties it every morning, making sure every single strand is in the right place.
It’s surprising that he only notices the issue at hand now.
Mu Qing’s hair is no longer tied into his signature ponytail, instead cascading freely down his back.
It must’ve come undone sometime during his battle with the ghost, and he was so occupied with the rhythm of the attacks and defenses that he didn’t even notice.
Normally, this wouldn’t be much of a problem. He can put his hair back up within a few seconds, even if there’s no mirror nearby, and it’ll still look perfect.
But a certain realization dawns on Mu Qing, causing dread and horror to wash over him. If his hair is loose, that means the very thing which had been holding his ponytail together is gone—the silver ribbon he’s recently received from Feng Xin, to match his own golden one.
Feng Xin had described it as a special gift, a testament to his love for Mu Qing. He had hoped Mu Qing would be proud to wear it, and that it could be a sign of their feelings for each other for those perceptive enough to notice the similarity of their ribbons.
Mu Qing had tried his best not to cry in that moment, promising himself to only let the tears fall in the safety of his private chamber.
Gold for Feng Xin, silver for Mu Qing. The sun and the moon, the day and the night.
He had constantly been afraid that Feng Xin would get tired of him and stop their relationship from developing even further, but the gift had helped his anxiety lessen a bit—if Feng Xin was willing to wear matching ribbons, surely he at least liked Mu Qing? Surely he wanted to continue being with Mu Qing?
At this point Mu Qing feels incomplete without the silver ribbon in his hair, the same way he doesn’t quite feel right without Feng Xin by his side. He only ever allows Feng Xin to take it off for him when one of their make out sessions spirals out of control.
What is he supposed to do without the ribbon now?
He starts frantically searching for it, hoping that he’ll be able to spot it somewhere on the ground. But no matter how hard he tries and how carefully he looks, he can’t even find a single trace of the ribbon. It’s absolutely, terribly, undeniably gone.
Will Feng Xin’s love for Mu Qing be gone as well once he finds out?
Mu Qing’s heart skips a beat at the thought. He shuts his eyes tightly for a few seconds, quietly begging for the overwhelming fear to go away.
It’s not a big deal, he tells himself.
He knows it’s a lie.
Feng Xin had had that ribbon specifically made for Mu Qing by an artisan from the Mortal Realm, using the finest, most expensive threads. It can’t just be easily replaced.
Besides, how would Feng Xin react if he found out about this? Mu Qing is absolutely sure that he would be disappointed and upset, to say the least. He would probably yell at Mu Qing for his carelessness, for being stupid enough to lose a precious gift.
Feng Xin can’t find out, ever.
If it means Mu Qing has to start avoiding him from now on so that Feng Xin doesn’t notice something is amiss, then so be it. It will hurt him to do that, to fake indifference, but it would hurt even more to see an angry or pained expression on Feng Xin’s face.
He walks around the area a few more times in a desperate attempt to find the missing ribbon, but to no avail. Finally, when it starts getting dark, he decides there’s no point in continuing the search—the ribbon is gone, and Mu Qing is a fool.
He was hated by Feng Xin before, and he will be hated by him again. Perhaps it has always been his fate, cruel and unjust, but deserved.
It feels so wrong for his hair to be unbound that it almost makes him want to cry. How utterly pathetic.
Upon returning to the Heavenly Realm he almost runs to the Palace of Xuan Zhen, afraid that Feng Xin will spot him in public if he doesn’t hurry.
What would he even say if he met Feng Xin? Hey, I was fighting a ghost and somehow lost the ribbon like some Junior Deputy? Perhaps the ghost stole it from me before perishing? Feng Xin would laugh in his face.
Mu Qing breathes a deep sigh of relief once he’s back in his private chamber.
Nothing can ever be easy for him, right? He just had to gain Feng Xin’s love and trust only to do something unforgivable now, right?
Avoiding Feng Xin will definitely prove to be difficult, but he has to at least try. He’ll sit far away during any Heavenly Officials meetings, and he’ll leave as soon as a meeting’s over. He’ll decline any joint missions requests from Feng Xin, and he won’t answer any attempts at communicating through their private array. Or perhaps he will, just to say that he’s not feeling great, so he can’t meet Feng Xin face to face.
Maybe he should just descend to the Mortal Realm and never return. That’s definitely a very rational solution to his conundrum.
He could also find another, similar silver ribbon and pretend it’s the same one that Feng Xin had given him. Perhaps Feng Xin wouldn’t actually spot the difference, but Mu Qing would know, and the guilt would keep eating at him until it’d become unbearable.
No, simply avoiding Feng Xin is the best option.
It hurts to think about his life becoming dull and monotonous again without the sweet kisses and hugs from Feng Xin, without the time spent together. He has somehow managed to get used to being cherished—something he should never take for granted, because it can so easily be taken away.
He supposes this is the kind of punishment he deserves.
No more love from Feng Xin, then. Mu Qing will just have to go back to quietly yearning for affection and trying to convince himself that he doesn’t actually need it. Because he doesn’t.
Of course, Feng Xin tries contacting Mu Qing several times.
First, he enters their private Communication Array asking whether Mu Qing’s latest mission was a success and how he’s feeling. Mu Qing doesn't have the heart to ignore him completely, so he replies in a few sentences, telling Feng Xin that he’s still a bit tired and overworked. Feng Xin says he understands, and he leaves Mu Qing to his own devices for some time.
Mu Qing tries his best not to scream or lose his mind from the emotional turmoil he’s going through.
Later, Feng Xin comes to the Palace of Xuan Zhen, asking one of the deputies to let him see Mu Qing.
Mu Qing pretends he isn’t there, and Feng Xin leaves without seeing even a glimpse of him.
Only training makes it possible for Mu Qing to destress a little and forget about Feng Xin, if only for a short while. He spends more time than ever perfecting new attacks and techniques—something that will definitely prove useful on the battlefield, even if it’s just a distraction from his broken heart.
Mu Qing will never let anyone take something that is his again.
He barely leaves his palace anymore, only ever stepping outside for important meetings. Every day spent in the safety of his chambers is a day without seeing Feng Xin—and without Feng Xin noticing the lack of a certain silver ribbon wrapped around Mu Qing’s ponytail.
Sometimes he sheds a few tears when he’s certain no one will be able to hear him. He wraps his trembling arms around himself, pretending it’s really Feng Xin who’s hugging him. He knows how pathetic the behavior is, and yet he cannot stop it—his need for Feng Xin’s love proves to be stronger than his shame.
If only he hadn’t lost the ribbon. If only he hadn’t been so careless.
It’s almost funny how centuries have passed, but Mu Qing is stuck in the exact same scenario that he found himself in at the beginning of his godhood: nervous and aloof, trying to ignore everyone—especially Feng Xin—and just complete his tasks in peace. Feeling like an unlovable fool who will never form a deeper connection with anybody.
He supposes he should just get used to it again.
When a strange sound comes from Mu Qing’s study in the middle of the night, he stupidly ignores it at first.
There’s a few seconds of silence, followed by a thud. It’s strangely similar to the sound of someone—or something—falling down. Mu Qing automatically thinks it’s one of his cats being mischievous and causing havoc again, but then he remembers that after a few incidents they’re no longer allowed in his study.
It can’t be his deputies, either, since they never enter that specific chamber. Besides, most of them are resting now, with only a few individuals on night duty.
Mu Qing raises an eyebrow when another sound can be heard. This time, he finally decides to investigate the noise.
He quickly picks up the sword he always keeps in his bed chamber and starts walking slowly towards the study, making sure his steps are airy and impossibly quiet. Whoever is snooping around in his palace cannot realize that Mu Qing is coming to deal with them.
His hold on the weapon tightens as he gets closer to the chamber. If the person decides to walk out into the corridor now, they’ll be met with the sharpened tip of Mu Qing’s sword, and the consequences of their choices definitely won’t be pleasant.
Mu Qing fully focuses on the noises coming from all over the palace, his excellent hearing making it possible for him to pick up on even the quietest sounds, but nothing extraordinary can be heard from his study anymore. Perhaps the intruder has already realized that Mu Qing is coming for them…
Just a few more steps until Mu Qing reaches the door and finds out who had the audacity to break into his palace.
Three, two, one…
He prepares his weapon for a direct attack before soundlessly entering the chamber.
It’s fully dark inside, so it takes a short while for Mu Qing to get used to the darkness. Nobody tries to attack him, which is probably a good—though confusing—sign.
Mu Qing doesn’t know what exactly he’s expecting to see, but it’s most certainly not a golden ribbon, or a familiar pair of amber eyes.
Feng Xin stares at Mu Qing, wide-eyed. Mu Qing stares at Feng Xin.
He thinks he must be dreaming.
“What…” he starts, but before he can even finish the question, Feng Xin cuts him off.
“I can explain, I swear! Just lower your sword!”
Mu Qing looks down at the weapon he’s still clutching in his hand. Should he lower it? Does Feng Xin not deserve punishment for breaking into the Palace of Xuan Zhen in the middle of the night?
Reluctantly, Mu Qing puts the sword down, trying to ignore how much his hands have begun to tremble. He crosses his arms over his chest to stop Feng Xin from noticing, too.
Then, he raises an eyebrow at his… boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?
“So? What do you think you’re doing, General?”
This is fine, Mu Qing tells himself. Everything is fine. His plan to avoid Feng Xin for all eternity has definitely not backfired terribly.
Feng Xin gives Mu Qing a look that can roughly be interpreted as I’m afraid you’re going to kill me the moment I open my mouth.
To be honest, Mu Qing is considering it.
“I… uh…” Feng Xin begins, evidently too nervous to come up with a coherent sentence. It only makes Mu Qing even more angry and confused, because Feng Xin clearly had enough guts to break into his palace, but now he decides to be nervous? Now he can’t find the right words to explain himself? Just how did he think Mu Qing would react? Was Mu Qing supposed to run into Feng Xin’s open arms with a smile?
“Just spit it out already,” Mu Qing snarls.
Feng Xin takes a deep breath. “I… I just missed you, because you’ve been avoiding me and I don’t know why. You didn’t want to speak with me, or even see me, so I decided to come here and ask you for an explanation.”
Mu Qing furrows his eyebrows. Feng Xin wants an explanation from him? That probably isn’t a strange request, considering the circumstances, but it’s the middle of the night and Feng Xin’s just broken into his palace like some robber, so Mu Qing’s already pretty frustrated. The thought of having to explain his recent behavior only makes more ire rise in his chest, and it’s beginning to feel like he’s going to choke on it.
He doesn’t want to be angry at Feng Xin, but he also doesn’t want to admit the truth about the ribbon.
On the other hand, Feng Xin’s probably already noticed the lack of the silver ribbon in Mu Qing’s hair—and if he hasn’t due to stress, he’ll most definitely notice soon, and then Mu Qing will really have to explain everything.
“And you just had to break into my palace at the dead of night? Because that’s just what every normal Martial God does, obviously?” he asks snidely.
A trace of irritation crosses Feng Xin’s face. “What else was I supposed to do?! You refused to contact me! I only decided to come at night because I know there’s less deputies around your palace, making it easier to stay unnoticed.”
Mu Qing has to admit that does make sense. Still, it doesn’t make Feng Xin’s transgression less appalling.
“Can’t you just take the hint? If I wanted to see you, I would.”
Mu Qing realizes he’s just being mean as soon as the words leave his mouth. It’s true that he’s been ignoring Feng Xin for a concerning amount of time, offering no explanation besides the usual “I’m busy” or “I’m tired”. If he were in Feng Xin’s place, he would be puzzled too.
All of this is his fault after all. He’s the one who’s lost the precious gift, and the one who had the wonderful idea of avoiding his partner.
Mu Qing can’t stand to see the sadness in Feng Xin’s gaze.
His body begins to tremble even more.
He truly is a fool and an idiot.
Before Feng Xin can say anything, Mu Qing begins speaking again. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet; he tries his best to stop it from wavering.
“I… I didn’t mean to hurt you, or make you feel like you have to break into my palace just to talk to me,” he sits down in his chair, eyes trained on the floor just to avoid looking at Feng Xin. “Something happened during my latest mission, and it’s the reason why I’ve been avoiding you.”
“Something happened?” worry seeps into Feng Xin’s tone.
He may be concerned now, but he’s absolutely going to hate Mu Qing for what he’s about to say.
Well, better get it over with quickly. There’s no escaping the truth now.
“I was fighting a Savage rank ghost, and after I finished it off I just… I realized my ribbon was gone. It probably fell off during the fight, but I couldn’t find it anywhere, and I had to return to the Heavenly Realm without it.”
The sad, bitter truth, laid out in front of Feng Xin. He can do whatever he wishes with it now.
“Your ribbon…?” Feng Xin asks, evidently confused, which only makes Mu Qing confused as well in return.
What is Feng Xin not getting here? Did Mu Qing not explain the situation clearly enough?
“I’m saying I’ve lost the silver ribbon from you. The one you gave me as a gift, to match your golden one.”
Silence fills the chamber for a while.
“Oh,” Feng Xin says finally.
Oh? Seriously? Does he not want to add anything else, or chastise Mu Qing for being so careless?
“So.. I don’t have the ribbon anymore,” Mu Qing whispers. “It’s probably somewhere in the Mortal Realm, or maybe it’s disintegrated and it doesn't exist at all anymore. It was stupid and unprofessional of me to be so reckless with it.”
Tears begin to blur his vision. He blinks a few times, desperate not to cry in front of Feng Xin. It would just seem like him trying to guilt Feng Xin into forgiving him.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all this time?” Feng Xin asks incredulously.
Mu Qing nods, ashamed. “I didn’t want you to see me without the ribbon, because then you would find out the truth. But I guess now you know anyway, so my efforts were in vain,” he says bitterly.
“But… why? You could’ve just explained what happened.”
How does Mu Qing articulate his thought process to Feng Xin without sounding like he’s gone mad?
“I thought you would hate me for it,” he admits quietly, his voice barely audible. He still doesn’t understand why Feng Xin isn’t yelling at him, or why his voice doesn’t even seem particularly angry.
He should be mad. He should be disappointed.
“Why would I hate you for losing something by accident? Is that really how you think I would react?”
Mu Qing can feel his cheeks burning. How embarrassing it is, sitting here and opening himself up to Feng Xin.
“I lost the gift from you that I was supposed to keep forever. Why aren’t you angry?”
Feng Xin sighs. “I’m just glad that you got out of that fight unscathed. Honestly, you could’ve just come to me and said what happened. It’s only a ribbon from the Mortal Realm, so it’s not like it can’t be replaced.”
A single tear trails down Mu Qing’s cheek. He feels like the biggest fool in the world now, like he has overreacted for no reason.
Feng Xin must notice, because he takes a few steps towards Mu Qing.
“Mu Qing, look at me.”
He stubbornly keeps his eyes trained on the floor.
Feng Xin crouches in front of the chair Mu Qing is sitting in and takes Mu Qing’s hand in his. “I’m not angry with you and I’m not going to be, okay? I don’t know why such a thought has even crossed your mind.”
It takes everything in Mu Qing not to snatch his hand away. He doesn’t deserve this understanding and kindness from Feng Xin.
“You used to always be angry with me over the smallest things,” he mumbles.
“But that was before we admitted our feelings for each other, right? Back when we still acted like rivals, when we would fight constantly? You know none of that matters now.”
Yet Mu Qing cannot just forget about it, cannot ignore the terrifying thought that everything he has can be taken away from him in an instant.
He swallows down the lump that’s formed in his throat. “It matters to me. I… I don’t want to disappoint you, or to make you realize that you don’t actually want to be with me.”
Mu Qing feels like he’s going to faint or throw up. Or both. He has never been this honest with Feng Xin before—save for the time when they confessed their feelings. He’s not… used to this, and it’s definitely not easy for him. It’s like the words are being dragged from his chest.
Feng Xin laces their fingers together. Mu Qing’s eyes focus on their hands now, on the way Feng Xin is slowly trailing his thumb over Mu Qing’s skin in an attempt to comfort him.
“We’ve been together for, like, a hundred years, and we’ve known each other for almost a thousand. I’ve seen you both at your best and your worst, and there’s nothing you could do that would make me hate you. I swear it.”
Every word is spoken with an unmistakable determination, so sincere that Mu Qing cannot help but believe them, despite all the doubts and fears in his mind.
Mu Qing sniffles quietly; he uses his free hand to wipe the tears away from his eyes.
“So you’re not mad at me?” he asks, just to be completely sure.
“I’m not. It only saddens me that you thought you had to avoid me.”
“I’m sorry,” Mu Qing says quickly. The words barely make it past his lips.
Feng Xin sighs again. “Don’t be. I’m just glad you finally explained everything.”
Mu Qing won’t admit this out loud, but he’s glad, too. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders—the ghost that’s been following him around is finally gone, the anxiety no longer poisoning his every thought.
The world is still spinning, and Feng Xin doesn’t want to break up with him. Everything is… okay. He genuinely did not think that things would end up this well.
He gets up from the chair; Feng Xin stands up as well and lets go of Mu Qing’s hand to pull him into a hug instead. He wraps his arms around Mu Qing’s trembling body tightly, beginning to draw soothing patterns on Mu Qing’s back.
The gesture only makes Mu Qing want to cry harder. He lets out a quiet sob and immediately hides his face in the crook of Feng Xin’s neck out of sheer embarrassment.
How is it even possible that he’s gone from constantly bickering with Feng Xin to being this vulnerable in front of him?
Mu Qing is beyond grateful for the possibility to truly be himself in Feng Xin’s presence, the comfort and solace that Feng Xin provides.
“I will buy you another ribbon,” Feng Xin says after a while. “And another, and another, however many you need. Just… don’t worry anymore if you lose it.”
Telling Mu Qing to stop worrying is like telling a cat to stop meowing, but still, Mu Qing promises himself that he will at least try. Feng Xin wasn’t angry or disappointed like Mu Qing had expected him to be, so maybe it’s okay for him to simply relax a little and stop believing that Feng Xin will break up with him over an honest mistake or a misunderstanding.
“Thank you,” he whispers into Feng Xin’s neck, his voice wavering a little.
Even when the tears stop flowing and his body stops trembling, Mu Qing stays in Feng Xin’s embrace, just wanting to be held.
With Feng Xin’s warm body pressing against his own, Mu Qing cannot imagine not being loved by Feng Xin; he cannot imagine—cannot even comprehend—a future in which Feng Xin and him avoid each other, as if they were never anything more than enemies.
He pulls away a little to stare into Feng Xin’s mesmerizing golden eyes before connecting their lips in a kiss. He hopes it can show Feng Xin everything he doesn’t have the courage to say—that he loves Feng Xin, that he’s so happy to be with him, that he can’t believe he’s so lucky.
Mu Qing realizes at last that it doesn’t really matter if he has a physical reminder of Feng Xin’s love such as the damned silver ribbon, because Feng Xin’s actual feelings for him are much more resilient than a silly item—they can withstand any trials or difficulties. Even if the ribbon is lost, Feng Xin’s adoration isn’t.
It suddenly feels silly to have worried so much over losing the ribbon. Did avoiding Feng Xin not only make everything worse? Did it not cause Mu Qing to be even more stressed out and miserable?
Feng Xin breaks off their kiss, eliciting a small whine from Mu Qing.
The corners of his lips curl up into a smile. “Actually,” he starts. “Perhaps you deserve some punishment.”
Mu Qing raises an eyebrow, amused. “Punishment?”
Feng Xin nods. “You were not being very careful, after all. Maybe… a daily limit of kisses is in order. A kiss a day for General Xuan Zhen, and another one if he behaves well?”
Mu Qing smirks. “Is that really what you want, Nan Yang? Don’t you already miss kissing me after the time we spent apart?”
He knows very well that Feng Xin has missed him tremendously, the same way Mu Qing has missed Feng Xin’s affectionate words and touches.
Feng Xin wraps his arms around Mu Qing’s waist and pulls him a bit closer again. “You think you know me so well, huh?” he whispers before connecting their lips in yet another kiss, passionate and fervent.
Mu Qing lets his fingers tangle in Feng Xin’s hair and pull at his bun until it comes undone, the strands spilling loose down his back. He catches the golden ribbon before it falls to the floor and holds onto it tightly.
He has always preferred silver, but perhaps wearing gold isn’t so bad if it’s Feng Xin’s signature ribbon.
When one of the Xuan Zhen deputies knocks on Mu Qing’s door to inform him that General Nan Yang is waiting outside of the palace, Mu Qing isn’t surprised at all.
He quickly smooths out his robes and makes sure his ponytail is impeccable before ordering the deputy to let Feng Xin in.
Another knock can be heard soon after. Feng Xin could just walk right in and Mu Qing would let him, but he still thinks it’s nice that Feng Xin asks for permission before entering.
“Come in,” he says.
He’s greeted with a bright smile from Feng Xin, one that makes the corners of Mu Qing’s lips unwittingly curl up, too.
“So I take it you’ve decided not to break into my palace anymore?” he asks jokingly, thinking back to that memorable night.
Feng Xin lets out a soft laugh. “Would you rather I entered through the window in your study again? Let me just go and do that right now.”
Mu Qing rolls his eyes, fighting back a grin. “Just come here and kiss me, you idiot.”
Only when Feng Xin strides over does Mu Qing notice the box he’s holding. It’s wooden and intricately painted, suiting Mu Qing’s taste perfectly.
He doesn’t have time to ask about it, though, because Feng Xin is already pressing a sweet kiss to his lips, and suddenly Mu Qing feels like he’s going to melt.
He will never, ever get tired of this, and he will never be able to live without this.
Feng Xin breaks off the kiss—much too quickly, in Mu Qing’s humble opinion—to show Mu Qing the box he’s holding.
“I brought you a gift,” he announces, excitement clear in his voice.
Mu Qing knows exactly what it is before Feng Xin even says it.
Still, he tries to act genuinely surprised as he takes the box and slowly opens it, revealing a silver ribbon inside.
He can tell straight away that it’s made from the finest material, just like the original.
Feng Xin really didn’t have to do this. It almost makes Mu Qing want to sob again that he’s gone through all this effort just to replace the lost ribbon, knowing how much it meant to Mu Qing.
He delicately takes it out and sets the box aside. It’s exactly the same to the touch as the previous one—almost like he had never lost the ribbon to begin with.
“Can I…?” Feng Xin asks, reaching to take the ribbon from Mu Qing’s hands.
Mu Qing gives him a puzzled look before realizing that Feng Xin probably wants to tie it into his hair.
He lets Feng Xin take the ribbon and turns around, giving Feng Xin the silent permission to do whatever he wants.
Normally, he would never allow his ponytail to be anything other than perfect, but he can tolerate a few flaws if it’s Feng Xin who’s tying his hair up.
He hums as Feng Xin carefully undoes his hair and runs his fingers through the long strands. Feng Xin knows just how much Mu Qing loves having his hair played with or his scalp massaged, and he’s always willing to give Mu Qing these moments of pure bliss and pleasure.
Mu Qing’s eyes are closed as Feng Xin works on the ponytail, gathering all of Mu Qing’s hair into his hand and lifting it up.
When Feng Xin is satisfied with how the ponytail looks, he finally wraps the ribbon around it, securing it in place.
“I’m done,” he announces at last.
Mu Qing turns around and gives Feng Xin a small smile before pressing his lips to Feng Xin’s—a reward for his effort.
“Thank you,” he says after pulling away.
Thank you for the ribbon is probably what Feng Xin understands. Thank you for loving me and being kind to me is what Mu Qing means, as well.
He touches the ponytail, admiring how neat it is, how every strand is in the right place, held together with the silver ribbon. It seems Feng Xin has finally practiced enough to get Mu Qing’s signature hairstyle exactly right, and the realization makes Mu Qing’s heart skip a beat.
Finally, the ribbon is back where it’s supposed to be—a symbol of Feng Xin’s devotion, worn by Mu Qing every single day for everyone to see.
He promises himself that this time he will make sure not to lose it.